Bud stood atop the northwall’s wall-walk, watching the men below at work. It was here Bud and his company had made their stand when the wall was breached in the assault. It was here his people died for their kingdom.

Bud clenched his fists, digging his fingers into his palms. It was here I failed to keep them safe.

He did not yet know why Overseer Oswald had called him back to this place. The moat had been drained today in order to clear the rubble and repair the foundations. Nearby, Oswald was engaged in a discussion with Sir Rowen over the work that needed to be done.

Rowen was another party leader under the overseer’s command—a siege defence expert and a Chosen of Loften. He wore heavy plate armour, with a warhammer at his hip. The broad-shouldered giant had intricately etched tattoos on both arms. He’d explained them to Bud once, telling of the various engineering feats and battles that they represented, and how they’d ‘forged’ him.

To the left and right of the wall, on the ground, practitioners and Chosen worked together to hold back the river’s water, creating a spectacle of raging essence in the distance. It rose as tall as the walls, a curtain of power and water, surging upward like a wave that did not break. Where it had been drained, a ditch of thick mud remained where the Chosen of Rathlar, god of death, now waded through in search of the decayed corpses of demons, monsters, and fallen soldiers.

Picking through the remains was about as awful a job as Bud could imagine, but they went about the work with mundane indifference. The bodies of demons and monsters were harvested for materials before they were burned, while those of people were loaded onto carts to be brought back inside the fortress for funeral proceedings. Incense bearers sanctified the grim scene, chanting prayers of purification.

It was a haunting sight, but it had to be done. These were the remains of brave defenders of the kingdom, and they would have been doomed to wither away in a ditch for gods knew how long if the walls hadn’t needed repair. Perhaps they would have never left this place.

It was a fate Bud wished on no one, and a reminder of the companions he had lost on that grave day not yet a month ago.

Beyond the ditch, Isolde was in command of their defence on the ground. She was in full gear, though not wearing a helmet. Her silver hair was neatly tied into a bun as she patrolled the line, relatively relaxed. It was a clear day, and they could see for miles. The chance of an attack was low.

When the assault came, red mist rolled in from the north, bringing with it an encroaching darkness that shrouded out the sun. Red eyes filled that mist, burning with hunger and hatred. Inhuman speech and snarls the only sign of an enemy getting closer. They hadn’t seen the enemies until they were at the walls, using magic and siege equipment to scale them. Then they’d fought.

Emilia joined Bud, leaning against the battlements, looking out at the vast expanse of moorland. A stark landscape where only heather and tough grasses grew, painting a muted tapestry under wide, open skies. There wasn’t a single tree in sight.

“You’re looking broody,” Emilia said. “Everything okay?”

“Just my first time being back here since…” he trailed off.

“Hard to imagine it being the same place, isn’t it? One moment, sun and cheer, the next shadow and madness.”

“It was a hard-fought battle.”

“Hard-won, you mean,” Emilia said.

It hadn’t felt like a victory. It had felt like survival. Bud tried to force the negativity from his mind—he couldn’t let it show, not even to Emilia. It was up to him to maintain morale. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Her distant stare turned on him and broke into a smile. “I just got word that Marcela has returned. Thought you might want to go see her once you’re done here.”

“That’s excellent news!” Bud said, genuinely pleased. “Sooner than expected too. We’re in dire need of the reinforcements.”

“Maybe things will finally ease up,” Emilia said. “We’ve been run ragged these last few weeks.”

“I hope so, but it won’t be today. I can only think of one reason Oswald would ask us to meet him here.”

Emilia groaned, slouching into her arms against the wall. “There’s more work to do.”

Bud nodded. He could already feel a throbbing headache forming. “It won’t last forever. There will be an end to this war.”

“I sure hope so. I’m fed up with early mornings. I’m fed up with night’s watch. I’m fed up with sharing a barracks with a bunch of people.”

That got a laugh out of Bud. “It is a bit crowded, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes I feel like I could strangle someone.” She let out a long breath, then straightened up. “It’ll be nice to catch up with Marcela, anyway.”

“It will be.” Bud yawned, then instantly regretted it.

Brown eyes stared at him, filled with worry. Emilia’s dark hair whipped in the wind. “Are you still not sleeping properly?”

“We’re at war,” Bud said defensively.

“Even more reason for you to ensure you sleep. It’s ridiculous that you train so late.”

It sounded tempting. It really did. His head was throbbing, his body ached, he didn’t remember the last time he’d had half a night’s sleep. Yet the very thought of stopping made his chest tighten.

“I’m alright,” Bud said. “I need this. Really, Emilia, you don’t need to worry.”

“We all need rest, Bud. Even the great Frost Knight, Bastion of the Breach.”

He smiled at that, then changed the subject. “You think Marcela might have heard from Hump and Celaine.”

Emilia snorted. “I doubt it. Don’t think there’s much of a postal service in Drakalyn.”

“Good point. Shame though. I hope they’re doing better than we are.”

“They’ll be fine. Those two would survive anything.”

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Motion caught Bud’s eye below, and he spotted Talia, a Chosen of Seres under Isolde’s command, waving at him and Emilia. They waved back. She was a few years older than them with an athletic figure. Tightly braided hair hung down her back, and she carried twin shortswords on her belt.

“Well look who’s here,” came a woman’s voice. “Robert, you are looking just delightful. It’s been too long.”

“Oh brilliant,” Emilia muttered, rolling her eyes. “Here she comes.”

Bud turned to see Lysandra approaching them on the wall-walk, a smirk on her face, piercing blue eyes looking between the two of them, calculating. The woman was only about twenty, but she had an air to her that made Bud uneasy. It might have been the poison daggers at her hips, or the sly smile she always gave him, or perhaps it was just that he could never read what she was thinking.

“I’m pleased to see you in good health, Lysandra,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“Far, far too long.” She gave Emilia a wave. “Hi Emilia.”

“Hi.” Emilia’s voice was curt and completely void of interest.

Lysandra raised her eyebrows at Bud and mouthed a dramatic, ‘Okay’.

With Lysandra was her party leader, Faelan.

“Faelan, good to see you,” Bud said.

“And you, Sir Robert,” the man said with a genuine smile. “Seems Oswald’s got us all here today.”

“Indeed. We’ve not yet spoken to him,” Bud said. “I hoped it might be to do with your investigation into the demon infiltration.”

The man gave Bud an apologetic look. “I’m afraid not. I know you’re keen for updates, but there have been few developments so far. However the demons got in, they covered their tracks well.”

Bud sighed, disappointed. “I see.”

“In a way, that all but confirms the theory of human involvement though, doesn’t it?” Emilia said. “Demons couldn’t be so subtle without aid.”

“You don’t think it’s the warlocks again, do you?” Bud asked.

“The warlocks that attacked Sheercliff?” Faelan said. “It’s possible, but there’s no way to be certain. Demons have many worshipers, strange followers, and even slaves. The fact of the matter is that we have found no physical entry point.”

Bud considered it. While Faelan made some good points, he knew the warlock objective was to destroy the ancient seals, like the one in the Shrine of Osidium. The Temple of Sanctum was one of the most important temples in the kingdom, it would make sense for a seal to exist within, though Bud had heard no mention of it. If it did… perhaps they were working with the demons.

“We have a leading theory though,” Lysandra offered, giving Faelan a look.

Faelan frowned, seeming displeased that she’d revealed as much. “Yes, a theory. And that is all it is. There is not yet evidence to support it.”

“Perhaps we could get Bud’s thoughts on the matter,” Lysandra said. “He was closest to them when they appeared.”

Bud perked up. “I would be very interested to hear, even if it is just a theory.”

Faelan slumped his shoulders, relenting. “Access through magical means seems likely. The Inquisition is considering a summoning ritual, but evidence to substantiate such a thing does not yet exist. He glanced at Lysandra. “Which is why I specifically instructed that this not be mentioned.”

Lysandra gave a sly smile and tilted her head. “Oops.”

“I appreciate you being so forthright with me,” Bud said. “If you wouldn’t mind, please do inform me if any substantial progress is made. If there are people behind this… they killed my people. I…”

“No need to explain,” Faelan said. “You’re an honourable man, Robert. Trust me to do everything in my power to see this through to the end, and I will inform you when I can.”

“My thanks.” His chest tightened. He hated this. Hated being so helpless. How did they win a war that was seemingly on all fronts, even within their own walls?

Soon, Oswald noticed them gathered and came to join them. “Good, you’re all here. We’ve got a few things on the agenda today, but first, Robert, I’m going to need your company once more.”

Bud swallowed his bitterness. They had not had two days in a row in the fortress for three weeks, but what was he to do? “Of course, sir.”

“Scouts picked up a gathering of monsters to the northwest, near Rocktower Keep. Preliminary reports suggest another dungeon may be taking form. We need to destroy it before it’s given a chance.”

“Understood. My company can be ready the day after tomorrow.”

“This one can’t wait. You’re to leave at first light tomorrow and meet the scouts at the keep. They will lead you to the location.”

“With all due respect, sir, my men need rest. Is there no way the quest can be delayed?”

“Command wants it dealt with immediately.” There was an apologetic look on Oswald’s face—he knew what he was asking of Bud and his men. “I’m sorry, Robert. There’s nothing I can do. They suspect this to be another node of the Infernal Halls. It mustn’t be allowed to come to fruition.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” Bud clenched his jaw, biting back his words. This was ridiculous, but orders were orders. Oswald was just as incapable of changing them as he was. And if it truly was a branch of the Infernal Halls, it could not wait. They couldn’t risk the dungeon expanding any more than it already had.

It had to be done.

They moved onto the core of the briefing after that. This was their section of the wall to defend, and as it currently was, they’d been in trouble when the monster wave struck. Estimates gave them a week—far from enough time to rebuild the wall to its previous standing, which meant they would need to figure out alternatives. Instead, the plan was to build a layer of barricades in a half-ring around the breach on the inside of the wall. They would hold the tide at bay from there.

“Well that went about as well as I expected,” Emilia said.

“What do I tell the company?” That tightening in Bud’s chest was back. The pressure on himself was one thing, but disappointing the people that looked to him for leadership was something else entirely.

“Tell them the next monster wave will be upon us soon. That the expedition to the Infernal Halls will not be long after that. This is the training we need to ensure we’re strong enough to face them.”

“Will they believe that?”

“If it’s coming from you they will.”

Bud massaged his forehead. Kelisia help me, I’m tired.

“Look at me.” When he didn’t turn, Emilia grabbed his arm and yanked him. “Look at me, Bud.”

He did.

“We’re going to get through this,” she said softly. “You, me, and Dylan. We’re in this together. The weight of the world isn’t on your shoulders alone.”

“I know,” he said.

“Do you? Because sometimes you get a look in your eyes that makes me think you’re barely with us. You’re doing a fantastic job leading this company. I know it’s hard, but you can’t keep punishing yourself for every person we lose. This is war. You can’t save everyone.”

But I can try, Bud thought.

She squeezed his wrist. “Your leadership is the reason so many of our company survived. You can’t keep obsessing over everything that could have gone differently. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’ll try.”

She released him and gave him a nod. “That’s right you will. Now put on a smile and look like you’ve actually had some sleep. You can’t look miserable in front of your men.”

Bud smiled at her—he couldn’t help it. Even when times were difficult, she knew exactly what to say. “Thank you, Emilia.”

“No need to thank me. Just don’t forget that Dylan and I have your back.”

They entered the barracks together, each of them sharing a look at how loud the chatter coming from the lounge was. They entered, finding a massive group gathered together inside, talking enthusiastically. Most were from different companies, but what had brought them all here?

“You expecting a party?” Bud asked.

“No,” Emilia said, as confused as he was.

They pushed closer. Bud caught a glimpse of something weaving between the legs of people ahead of him. He saw the shadow of a tail, whipping back and forth. It seemed to spot him—two purple eyes peered out between a dozen legs.

“Is that Nisha?” Bud said, stunned.

“It can’t be.”

From amidst the crowd, he heard a familiar laugh, like something between a chuckle and a cackle. A wide grin spread across his face as he weaved his way through the crowd until he reached the table at the centre. There, sat Hump, Celaine, and Dylan, the three laughing as all eyes were on the dragon racing around the table, following his instructions. Jumping, diving, gliding over the table.

Seeing him again, Nisha stopped and stared at him curiously. That was when the others spotted him.

Dylan laughed, wrapping an arm around Hump’s shoulders. “Look who I found.”

A grin split Hump’s face too. “Been a while.”

“Good to see you both,” Celaine said.

“A while?” Bud laughed. “But… how? You were in the Fallen Lands.”

Hump stood, sauntering over, almost tripping on the chair leg as he went. “You know how it is. We heard you had some trouble so thought we’d come by and make sure everything’s okay.” He extended a hand. “Good to see you, Bud.”

Bud shook it, still hardly believing his eyes.

Hump’s face changed to that of alarm. “Watch out! Nisha’s a little—”

A shape emerged from behind Hump, shooting at Bud like a boulder. Nisha crashed into him, sending him to the ground under her weight.

“—Excited,” Hump finished, wincing. “Sorry about that.”