A squire pours Armand a glass of wine before leaving the commandment tent. He motions them to approach the table laid in the center, illuminated by a hanging lantern.

"You required our presence, Lieutenant," Althea says. The way she said it doesn't feel right to her, too respectful.

Leofric enters after her, his frame almost too big and large for the tent. He steps past Armand to observe the maps placed on the tables. Garrick slips in silently to place himself on the edge, leaning back on a thick wooden pole. When Julia enters last, she purposely brightens her clothes, shining the light of their sigils on the tent's furniture.

"The scouts lost half of their members," Armand reveals.

"What?!" Garrick bursts, lifting himself from his relaxed posture.

"There wasn't a fight," Armand says. "The soldiers they lost vanished without a trace. They stopped answering signals, and when their teammates went to check on them, they found nothing, not even tracks."

The tension in the tent rises as the knights exchange glances. Garrick is the first to break the silence. "A predator able to snatch trained scouts without a trace? That sounds like Obscurants."

The guess doesn't feel right to Althea, who hunted one of the shadowy beasts before. "No, they live alone. It wouldn't have taken ten people; it should be one every three to four days at most."

Leofric scoffs, leaning against the table to observe the map. "There are deep tunnels in the nearby mountain. What about a bunch of Shadowtresses?"

Julia clicks her tongue. "Absurd. All the recent sightings are in Caeloria. If we had a pack of them here, the nearby villages would have been attacked for being in their territory."

Althea's mind rushes through dozens of memories; a lot of monsters could snatch someone without a trace.

"Can I finish?" Armand asks.

They turn towards him as he swirls his remaining wine. "One of the scouts saw something. A humanoid sneaking away from them, a large staff on its back."

"And they didn't catch him?" Julia asks.

"They tried, but it lost them," Armand answers.

"Cultists," Leofric sights. "At least this will be expedited with your forces. But still, ten men? And this far remote?"

"I'll go find them," Garrick says. "They won't escape me."

Armand finishes and lowers his glass. "I recalled every squad to the camp. Tomorrow, we will investigate the villages. But we won't take the risk to lose someone else tonight; it seems to advantage them."

"With all due respect," Julia begins, meaning none. "We are not your underlings. If my husband dimmed best to handle the situation himself, it is his right."

"We know almost nothing of our opponent. There is no guarantee that they will be your lesser," Armand says. "It's the complacency, the arrogance of safety, which will be your downfall."

The four knights glance at each other, stunned by the lieutenant's use of their codes.

Armand sighs. "I know you do not respect me, my authority, or my decisions. But I trust you will abide by your own teachings, for all our sakes. If not, I'd rather see you relieved from your duties."

Garrick leans against the tent's structure, giving up on arguing. It must hurt him to see the codes used against him, he who follows them adamantly.

"Very well," Julia says, glancing at her husband. She turns around, her dress floating around her. "If this is everything, we'll take our leave until tomorrow morning. Good night, lieutenant."

"Good night, lady Sildane," Armand says as she leaves with Garrick in tow. He turns to Leofric and whispers, "Dealing with her is exhausting."

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"I can hear you," Althea says.

"Do you think otherwise? Lad… Baroness Drevoss," Armand asks. The way he spoke her title and name was infinitely more respectful than for Julia.

"No," she admits. In truth, she cannot stand Julia's remarks and ego. "But still, you shouldn't speak ill of someone behind their back."

Armand smiles. "You are right, it's not distinguished, is it? Anyway, once we secured the villages, I count I can trust you to heal the villagers you can. Maintaining a good image is beneficial for the army, the knights, and your church."

"Yes, sir," Althea says. Once again, she regrets the reverence in her tone. Something annoys her; it should be the task of the priests accompanying the army. "If I may ask, do you know why there are no priests among us?"

"When I requested them, I was told the Citadel of Light was dealing with an internal matter necessitating all their attention." Armand leans back on his map table, crossing his arms. "I thought you would know more than me on that matter."

As Althea is both a member of the church and a knight, she would only be called unless absolutely necessary. "It must not be a dire matter; otherwise, I would have been informed."

"Let's hope so," Armand says. "You're dismissed. Take care tonight; I can only recommend ensuring your tents are guarded. They could have followed the scouts to the camp."

"Will do," Leofric says as he exits the commandment tent. Althea follows as the lieutenant returns to his maps.

On her way back, she notices that griffins in the messengers' enclosure are still restless. Their wings twitch as they sniff the air and emit low, throaty growls. She brushes it off as nerves for the intelligence she just obtained.

A cold sweat jolts Althea awake. Her heart pounds in her chest as she sits up in her bed. She clenches her jaw, trying to shake off the useless panic. She sits at the edge of the bed and checks that her sword is still under it.

A gust of wind lifts the edge of her tent, engulfing cold air into it. Her nightgown offers little protection against the chill, but her body itself suffices. Her breath fogs as she resets the uprooted stake. The camp seems quiet, save for the crackling of the fires and the rustling of guards making their rounds.

A quick, disjointed conversation happens outside her tent. She tries to decipher the gibberish, but her mental fog stops her. It seemed urgent nonetheless, and she slips out of her tent.

The two sentries notice her presence, their eyes widening slightly at the sight of the knight in her nightwear. She blushes, and they straighten, aiming their gaze to a far point.

"What's happening?" she asks, covering herself with her arms. She didn't think of her state before exiting the tent and regrets it now.

"We have nothing to report, sir," one of the sentries says.

"What were you talking about? It sounded urgent," she presses.

"We haven't spoken for like… an hour," the second sentry says.

Althea re-enters her tent and grabs her sword. She moves to the side and lifts the fabric, opening the tent where the stake was uprooted. She finds bushes behind her tent but sees nothing… no one hiding among them.

She moves back inside and checks her entire gear. She finds everything – her armor, weapons, shield, potions, and satchels. She stops on the satchel holding her personal letters, finding it worryingly light. She opens it and finds nothing inside – all her letters gone.

"Sound the alarm," she commands the sentries outside. "There are enemies in our camp!"

Armand paces in front of Althea's tent as she finishes dressing up. "Are you sure you didn't misplace them?" he asks through the fabric.

"I stored a letter inside tonight," Althea answers, fastening the clasps of her gauntlets. In armor, she exits the tent to find the lieutenant surrounded by an entire squad.

A squire runs towards him to report. "Sergeants Mudrick and Hayward are missing documents, both personal and official."

"Enemies in our own camp," Armand sighs. "Reinforce the troops at the gates. Find them! But do not step outside our fortifications; no one is allowed to leave."

All but one of the soldiers scamper around. Armand stares at him with a questioning expression.

"I thought you wanted us to guard you, sir," the soldier says.

Armand motions towards Althea. "I think an ascended knight will be more than enough. Search the camp."

"Garrick is probably outside already," Althea says as the soldier leaves.

"I saw him first," Armand says. "He's on the observation platform."

Althea sight bursts with light. She's taken to a vision, one of the near future, seeing as she finds herself standing beside Armand. His head explodes, a high-speed spell striking him from behind. She returns to her senses and spins to place her shield behind Armand. Nothing happens.

"You just had a vision; what's happening?" Armand asks, drawing his sword.

"Someone killed you," Althea says. She places herself to encompass Armand between her armor and her shield.

"Guards!" Armand calls. Five men arrive in an instant, their blades raised towards the direction Althea stares at.

Garrick darts on top of the palisades, landing before them to scan the camp. In a minute, the section is overrun with soldiers, but they find no one.

'What kind of Mage can prowl like that?' Althea asks herself.

Armand frees himself from her and orders, "Wake up everybody! We're on high alert for the night! No one leaves, no one enters."

"You shouldn't stay outside," Garrick says as he approaches them.

"I won't cower when assassins roam my camp," Armand hisses. He steps towards his commandment tent. "Once I put on my armor, we'll check that everyone who pretends to be a soldier is indeed one of us."