The reaction was instantaneous.

One moment, I was kneeling on the ground while the sound of battle raged around me. The next, I was bringing my shield down with all the force I could muster.

My HUD indicator flashed.

Then the shock wave hit. The force of the blast nearly blinded me.

An invisible force struck the Orks in front of me, slamming them into the parapet wall. Two of them were sent flying, careening out into empty air.

Draxus had managed to brace but even he was knocked backwards off his feet. There was no time for hesitation. I rose and strode forward, my blade held out in front of me. An Ork was fetched up against the wall, his leg clearly broken in the shock wave. He growled and tried to crawl away on armored elbows.

The blade of my sword punched through his neck and out the other side. Blood sprayed. Another Ork had risen, stumbling in a daze. I hacked his head from his shoulders in two grisly strikes.

By now, my men had recovered. The remaining Orks rallied but they were disorganized, confused by the crumple of their line. I came at them from the side even as my men held their own against the onslaught.

My sword was sticky with the crimson blood of Orks. I hacked everything that came before me. Arms, legs, heads, horns. It was all the same.

A crude Ork spear stabbed at me, and I stepped aside, bringing my sword down to chop at a hand. It came away still clutching the spear. For the first time tonight, the tide of battle began to turn.

Orks still climbed the battlements, but they were quickly met by spears and swords. Those who managed to survive were shoved against the wall -crushed by our shields and stabbed to death.

The squeals of dying Orks were like that of pigs.

I slashed and stabbed, my newfound agility making every strike that much faster.

I thought of the refugees.... of the slaves who had been slaughtered like cattle for the sake of a distraction and blood sport.

I stood with my men and we gave the red beasts of the sands no mercy. And then as quickly as it had begun, the battle was over.

The garrison arrived moments later, a sudden tide of dark blue surcoats and drawn steel. They surged forward in a mass, overwhelming the last of the assault force and pressing them back. It was over - we had held the line.

Suddenly the exhaustion hit me like a wave. My vision began to spin and I stumbled to the side, bracing a hand against the stone.

Draxus stepped out from the crowd of passing soldiers. His hair was disheveled, and he had lost his helmet.

“Throne Will, What the bloody fuck did you do?”

I glanced up at him and saw something in his eyes I’d never seen before. Wonder and… was that a hint of fear? The thought unnerved me. I lifted my visor and tried to wipe the sweat from my face, only to end up smearing blood.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I used a skill I’ve never used before. It was.. stronger than I'd expected.

"An understatement."

I tried to respond, but my words were slurred and my lips felt strangely numb. Draxus brows drew together.

“Will,” he said as I stumbled forward. He caught me. The sounds around me faded away. Someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t quite recall why that was important.

I wanted so badly to rest. My mind began to drift, a boat on a stormy sea.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders and held them fast. I gazed up into a pair of calm dark eyes. They were familiar.

“William,” said the voice, and there was a resonance in it. I blinked, trying to clear my mind.

“William, look at me.”

I did. The dark eyes were intent, but not unkind.

“You did well,” said Lord Blackthorne. “You stood as men and defended the city against a force far larger than your own. You are a hero, Blackbriar. Mark my words. But you need to let it go now.”

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“Let what go?” I tried to say the words but they came out all tangled together. Blackthorne seemed to get my meaning.

“Let go of the skill spell. It is Draining your life force at an alarming rate. It will kill you if this persists.”

A bolt of fear went through me, but it was distant. I could feel the vitality draining out of me as my body grew weaker and weaker. My lips felt cold and numb.

“William, you need to trust me. Let it go.”

I did.

The force that had been building inside me receded like the tide. Sound returned to my ear with a pop and I blinked at the first rays of morning light on the horizon.

“My Lord?” I asked Blackthorne uncertainly. The Lord smiled.

“You will have to learn to have better control over your mana well. You nearly depleted your own reserves of physical energy, a thing that will kill you just as sure as the blade of an Ork.”

I glanced around. I was seated with my back against the parapet wall, and Lord Blackthorne knelt beside me. My men stood nearby, Draxus and Bjorn among them.

“Is the battle won my Lord?”

Blackthorne nodded, but his expression shifted with displeasure. There was something weighing on him.

“The Ork’s may be brutes," he said. "But they are far from stupid. It is my belief that the Khan wanted to avoid a drawn-out siege. He believed by overwhelming our forces on the wall he might be able to send enough Orks to open the gate from within.”

That caught my attention.

“They intended to take gatehouse?” I asked.

Blackthorne nodded.

“And they knew our forces would be split. Over on the west side of the wall, my own men were besieged by Orks that had managed to climb the walls of the tower parapet. This strike was calculated.”

I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my mind. My body still felt fatigued, but my faculties were slowly returning to me.

“My Lord, How would the host know where our men would be stationed and when?”

Lord Blackthorne drew a weary hand across his brow. He looked tired, more so than I had ever seen him before.

“I believe, and Lord Dacon agrees with me, that there is more going on here than meets the eye.”

I met his gaze.

“You think we have a mole.”

***

I made it into camp with the help of Draxus. Gills emerged from his tent moments later, and when he saw me slumped and battle worn, his face grew pale.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked, rushing to my side.

"He's mana fatigued," said Draxus.

"I'm fine." growled, but neither of them paid me any attention.

"Call a Healer," said Gills, taking my arm and throwing it around his own shoulders. He led me to my tent and helped me sit on my cot.

Draxus returned moments later with Joanna in toe. She took one sweeping look over me and turned to the two men.

"Out," she commanded them. Draxus arched a brow, but he and Gills turned to go.

"Here if you need us, eh?" Said Gills, nodding before ducking out of the flap.

Her fingertips were warm as they graced the edge of my cheeks. She lifted my head gazing into my eyes.

"Mana fatigue," she muttered. "You're lucky to be alive. I can make something for you, but it will take time. You'll need to rest in order to restore your strength."

I shook my head.

"I can't rest. The siege -"

"Will not begin in earnest until sun sets in the evening. Even if the Orks were to attack in broad daylight the alarm bells would be enough to wake the dead. Now,"

She gave me a stern look and I grimaced.

"Stubborn man," she muttered softly as she knelt on the ground and began pulling supplies from her inventory. The words were growled, but there was a slight smile on her lips.

I watched her work as she brought out a mortar and pestle and several herbs. Beneath her healer's vale, her eyes were calm and focused. The sea on a clear day.

"Why did you become a Healer?" I asked her suddenly. Joanna didn't look up at me, but her lips twitched.

"At the Academy, I studied many different kinds of magic. I had an affinity for some, but I felt drawn to the magic of life. There is more to healing than one might think - a sort of synergy between life and death."

She dusted off her hands and brought out a small vial of oil, pouring the now powdered herbs within. She swirled the contents and then focused. A warm glow emanated from her hand and moments later the vial upgraded into an item.

Item: Minor potion of Mana Rejuvenation

Joanna handed me the vial and arched a brow.

"All if it," she said. I smiled. The potion was bitter and oily but I felt its effects quite instantly. Warmth bloomed in my stomach.

"Thank you," I said to her. "Your choice of profession was a good one."

I wasn't sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me, or if the Healer's cheeks actually turned pink.

"Why did you decide to become a soldier on the front lines?" she asked. "You could have been stationed anywhere. Somewhere less....perilous."

The question caught me off guard. I hesitated, caught between the lie I knew I needed to tell and the desire to tell her the truth.

I knew better than to tempt fate.

"I wanted to level," I said. "Grow my strength and be able to hold my own on the field of battle. Kadia isn't any less dangerous within the borders. The enemy is just a different kind."

"Human," she guessed. I nodded. "Mostly. Thought there are still monsters in the countryside."

"What is Blackbriar like?"

I considered that. I remembered the green signpost with the street name. The way the cicadas sang in summer.

"Quiet," I said. "But in a way that was peaceful."

"Do you ever miss it?"

I hesitated.

"Sometimes."

I laid back on my cot with the clink of armor. I wasn't willing to remove it, not when at any moment alarm bells could be rung. But I had to admit that the down pillow beneath my head was comfortable. The pleasant warmth in my veins was spreading.

We spoke for a while more, and I listened to her tell me more about her life. Her father had been cold and aloof, and her older brother had a dangerous ambition.

My eyelids started to drift closed. The last thing I saw before I drifted into sleep were those eyes - like molten saphire.