There were two reasons I wanted Iskander and Jace in the battle tomorrow. The first was that they knew how the Enemy would fight, and their capabilities, and could temper and motivate the troops. The second reason was a more selfish one, more close to my heart. I wanted them to stay at Florencia’s side, and to keep her safe and protected. I didn’t want to worry about her during the fight.

I had a knowing that I would be far from the front lines, deep among the enemy instead. Florencia could not follow me there.

I went and searched for Iskander and Jaxine.

They sat on their woolen blankets, their backs resting against the stone foundation of the manor house, and watching the night sky. A great many stars were visible, and Iskander again pointed out the many constellations that he knew to her. Jaxine yawned, her eyes glossed over, and utterly not interested, but seemingly taking comfort by simply sitting close to Iskander.

As I approached, I noticed that both of them seemed to be more at peace, and less grief-stricken than before. I took that as a good sign.

“How are you?” I asked.

“It’s not too cold, and it’s quiet. I can’t complain,” said Iskander. “You seem calm, Jonas. The others seemed nervous and jumpy.”

“They’re afraid about tomorrow.”

“They should be. Before I forget, the marshall’s aide-de-camp came and told us that we are expected to the armorer first thing in the morning.”

“So you’re coming?”

Iskander looked at me like I’d gone insane.

“Why shouldn’t I? Look, I’m not a patriot. I won’t fight to save your country, but from what I’ve seen, your rulers take the demonic threat seriously, unlike in Szell. I’m not going to fight to save the Crown but for myself. I have this…” Iskander looked up and around him, and then down to his trembling hands, “anger I need to get rid of. I think a good fight will do me good.”

“It’s more than a fight,” I said.

“Even better. That means more for me to kill. Hopefully, I won’t die tomorrow, but you never know. Maybe Vranik is there, and as powerful as you think he is. Maybe we’re all going to die, wouldn’t that be a turn of events? I think he will be there and that you will challenge him with your maul, and you’ll kill him. And when you’ve done that, I’ll spit on his body, and that’s done.”

“You’re holding up better than I thought you’d be,” I told him.

“I can handle myself very well. Just because I haven’t learned in Cappesand, doesn’t mean I don’t know all your mind-techniques.”

I kneeled and turned to Jaxine. “And what about you?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a soldier or fighter. Sure, I know a thing or two about how to use my dagger, and I’m quicker than I look, Jonas, but I also know what skills and talents I have, and they’re not for fighting or beating people’s heads in with a sword or hammer. Besides, I’m short, I know that. I’ll be buried under everyone there.”

“And I forbid you to go,” said Iskander casually.

“And Is forbids me to go, so I won’t. I’ll stay here instead. Someone needs to guard our horses and gear. There’s always those scoundrels who take advantage of situations like this. And when you come back bloody and broken, I’ll be there to find some medicine and bandages, or whatever the healers use to fix you up. That I can do much better than swing a stupid sword around.”

“Swinging a sword isn’t stupid,” I said and for the first time, Jaxine smiled at me. Of course, it disappeared the moment she caught herself. “I’m happy that you’re staying behind. We do need someone to guard our possessions.”

“Well, there you go, you’re welcome. And who knows, maybe I find some interesting trinket that someone misplaced.”

“No stealing!” warned Iskander.

“It’s not stealing if it’s lost,” said Jaxine and smirked, feeling rather content for a moment. Then a realization seemed to dawn on her face, and she looked at Iskander with worry.

After a moment of silence, Iskander spoke up.

“Look at all these boys, all prettied up in those fancy armor and with their shiny swords. But Jonas, both of us know that the first moment they see those monsters, they’ll piss themselves.”

“You can fight just as well covered in piss.”

Iskander burst into laughter and Jaxine rolled her eyes.

“That’s why it’s good to have you there,” I told Iskander.

“I won’t be bothering with babysitting anyone.”

“Have you fought in any wars?” I asked Iskander.

“I’ve done my fair share of fighting for some petty lord of lady, or for the safety of a village, but those were skirmishes, not a war. But it can’t be much different than a large skirmish, I’d think.” Iskander groaned and got up. “It’s getting late. If the fight is tomorrow, I’d like to have some sleep. Jaxine, come. Jonas, don’t forget about the armorer in the morning. Even you have to wear at least a helmet and some armor.”

“I’ll be there, don’t worry,” I told him.

Things had gone remarkably better with Iskander than with Jace, and I decided to take a walk to clear my thoughts. This was probably the last peaceful moment before the impending battle, and I needed to test my idea about my armor.

The fields surrounding the Vaecca estate were strangely quiet now, with the thousands of soldiers all trying to have a wink of sleep before the next day. The silence was occasionally disrupted by a faint whisper here and there. As the night wore on, even more soldiers and knights kept arriving in small numbers—ten here, a dozen there. All of them were put under the command of the baron of Bersia.

When I reached a clearing atop the ridge, overlooking the Poscale River, the whole surreal situation finally set in. Only two days ago we had been in Castan, investigating the disappearance of an entire village and garrison. Now, I sat on the eve of my first battle.

I was glad my will didn’t break.

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To regain a semblance of balance in my mind, I sat down cross-legged on the ridge and fell into a meditative state rather quickly. I slowly closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall into a deep pit of darkness. This mental transition had become almost effortless for me, requiring little exertion. I willed myself back into that cavern, where searing heat enveloped me and the mournful whistling of the wind echoed in the background. There, in front of me, stood the Armor, surrounded by the circle of protective runes.

This was a sight I had witnessed many times before, and on every occasion, I had been unable to progress beyond this point. As far as I knew, the protective spell was impenetrable. I had racked my mind and attempted many techniques and methods to breach the spell, yet all had proven futile.

But, the words of Goxhandar, upon our arrival in Lottie, and Iskander’s from the previous day had planted a seed of an idea within me. It only now finally bloomed. What if the spell could be circumvented instead? What if I simply envisioned myself already wearing the suit of armor?

Initially, this mental exercise proved challenging, demanding a level of concentration and effort I’d never had to use before, almost as if the protective spells were interfering with me. I persisted, though, and almost without me noticing anything different, a whistling of wind enveloped the silent hill around me, and extinguished the torches nearby. I felt a swelling of strength within me, and my thoughts became quicker, sharper, and more clear. I felt as if I had become a conduit to the forces of the empyrean currents, and I had to stop.

I forced myself back into the mundane, and the wind died down. The sudden gale had left some soldiers around me grumbling and complaining. Inwardly, I rejoiced. After all that time, I had finally done it. The Armor was mine again, but I was not going to summon it just yet. I was going to wait until the battle.

Despite the rush of joy, I had to calm down and get some rest before the morning.

“Well done, Master,” said Goxhandar, awaking from a half slumber. “I would have helped you but you did not tell me the rituals with which you secured the Armor, and bound it to your old home.”

“It’s alright. I have it now, and tomorrow we will try it out. I almost cannot wait.”

“I find it difficult to wait for the battle as well, Master. And I know you will find your Armor most agreeable.”

I knew Goxhandar was right, and began my walk back towards the stables. My feet were stiff, and a cold wind had come from the northern mountains of Castalmand. The air had a sharp chill now, and I hurried back inside.

When I got back to the stables, I saw Iskander and Jaxine sleeping, cocooned in their blankets. I turned and looked at where Jace was supposed to sleep, and saw his cot was empty and unused. He was probably still wandering around the encampment, struggling with his fears.

I went and lay down beside Florencia. She had not been sleeping and was awake as I settled beside her. We draped both of our blankets over ourselves to shield us from the cold night and spent the precious few hours that we had left resting. Neither of us managed to sleep much.

The morning was eerily quiet, even though outside was a cacophony of activity. Jace’s bedroll was still vacant and undisturbed, and I thought whether he simply had left, but that didn’t make any sense. We had a meager breakfast of hardbread and some wine wash and dressed in the long underwear that we would wear under the suits of armor. I chose to put on my long black pajamas I’d been wearing for many nights, and put the woolen blanket around me before we exited the stables.

Outside, many of the army soldiers had already been awake for some hours, as most already were wearing their war gear. Wearing grim and determined faces, they marched with discipline into formation and awaited orders. We went to find the armorer’s tent instead.

As we were walking, a firm hand grabbed my shoulder. I jumped back, my mind still sleepy and dull. I turned around.

It was Jace and his face seemed brighter and more alive. And he was already wearing a suit of old chain mail, and holding a metal skullcap with padded flaps under his arm.

“I’m sorry to despair, Jonas,” said Jace, his heart lighter and his face painted with a faint smile. “I don’t know what overcame me last night. It was like a shadow of melancholy or some sort of cowardly spell that I was under! I can’t even remember half of what I said to you, but it is humorous that I remember your words very clearly. You can count on me, Jonas. I’ll be there, beside you and Florencia, and I will fight with the fire that is burning in my heart. I will show these heathens how the truly faithful wage war. My will shall not be broken!”

His words emboldened even my own heart.

“I’m glad,” I told him. “I secretly hoped you would change your mind, and I know you will fight hard and good. I can sense the fire that is burning within you. Let everyone else witness it, as well.”

“All shall witness it,” said Jace. “And because I couldn’t sleep, I went and talked to the armorers during the night. They have some suits of armor ready for you. Come on.”

Jace led us through the encampment with a long stride and confident steps. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and the soldiers were now loudly boasting about the upcoming battle. One could cut the tension with a knife.

We passed a large tent that was being set up, from old red linen cloth. This would serve as the gathering place for healers and apothecaries, who were already preparing for the chaos and madness that might follow before nightfall. Women, young and old, had crates and cases of bandages, chests of oils, tinctures, and ointments. Beside them walked priestesses, in their elegant silk robes, and blessing everyone around them. Incense was burning, and icons of the deities were hung from the posts. In a quiet corner, I saw two elderly women kneeling before the icon of Hanuos, their voices in a low chant.

Adjacent to the apothecary tent was a sturdy and thick granary, its foundation made from huge earthen stones, and its walls from thick boards of wood. Here, the armorer and his team had toiled throughout the night. All around were soldiers, seeking last-minute adjustments and repairs to their gear. One knight in particular had a strap on his cuirsass break during the night, and could not fight before it was fixed. He offered ten silver coins to get first in line.

Iskander and Florencia were both given thick, but aged gambesons, and a thin coat of chainmail to go over it. Helmets were in short supply, unfortunately, and they had to settle for padded hoods and a skullcap. This left most of their face and ears unprotected and left a sour taste in my mouth. But nothing could be done, even though I asked to buy a helmet from some awaiting soldiers.

“It’s fine, Jonas,” said Florencia. “Let it be. A hood and skullcap are better than nothing. Besides, I’ve never fought with a full-faced helmet, so it’s better like this.”

“And what about you?” asked Iskander. “They had a coat of mail for you, too.”

I replied with a barely suppressed smirk. “I have my own.”

“Did you succeed?” asked Florencia, her padded hood slipping almost to her eyebrows. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she managed to look almost adorable in that war gear.

“In what?” asked Jace but his question was cut short.

A rallying cry was heard, and then loud trumpets sounded from the Poscale field. Runners came and delivered orders. The enemy war host was spotted that very morning and was advancing directly to confront us.

All forces were ordered to assemble.

“Well, this is it,” said Iskander, and his demeanor shifted abruptly. He tightened the straps of his hood under his chin and flung his greatsword over his shoulder. He and Jaxine embraced goodbye, and while she had been brave the previous night, now she was almost beside herself—her eyes welled with tears, and her lower lip trembled.

“We should’ve woken up earlier,” said Florencia, suddenly anxious. “I’m not prepared. I still need to—”

Instead of saying anything, I took her hand and held it.

We marched into battle, along with the rest of the soldiers. Jaxine waved goodbye, suppressing her tears admirably.

There were hundreds of men-at-arms who marched along with us, and heading into the left flank of the army. All were part of the Lienor volunteer regiment, commanded by the baron of Bersia. But I never saw him, though, as my eyes were taken by the impressive display of gleaming armors, intricate chainmail, and surcoats adorned with heraldry of all kinds.

“I suppose this could be just a general call for formation,” said Florencia, though even she didn’t believe her own words. “The battle might not begin today, maybe we just have to be ready, just in case.”

“No,” said Jace. “It will be today. I can feel it. Can’t you? The air smells of war.”

“Where did this come from,” asked Iskander with a smirk. “Yesterday you were trembling in your boots, now you are a captain of war?”

“Does it matter, Iskander,” asked Jace. “To have a moment of weakness before the battle, and still be ready when the time is ripe?”

“Fine, fine! Just don’t quote me any more religious texts!”

“This time, I didn’t.”

I think all of us knew, deep inside our hearts, that today was the day. There was a deep and eerie silence upon the field of Poscale, and as we marched and found our spots, the silence became almost unbearable.

And when I turned my attention eastward, I could almost hear a dark rumble approach.