Kathren jerked up, whipping her left hand and the knife she was holding at the figure looming over her. "Woah!" Cried out the dark figure as they stumbled back, holding up their arms and falling to the ground.

Kathren started to move off her bed and continue to pursue her attacker, but she stopped halfway to her feet. Blinking in confusion, the fog clouding her mind started to clear. Eyes focusing for the first time since waking, she looked at the man scooting away from her on the ground.

"And that's why we wake up Kathren by throwing things at her." Said a voice filled with amusement, unable to stifle the chuckles underlying her words. Looking at the source, Kathren saw Anooha standing in the doorway, bouncing a handful of pebbles on her palm. Seeing Kathren's scowl, all the other woman did was smile wider, then carefully bend down and place the stones next to Kathren's door, giving them a small pat as if signaling she would come back later.

Frown deepening as her eyes squinted in annoyance, Kathren looked down at her bed knife clutched in her fist. Finishing her movement to get up, Kathren tossed her knife onto her rumpled blankets before moving towards Jim, who was still sitting on the ground with wide eyes.

"Move," Kathren grunted, fulfilling her morning speech quota.

Jim looked up at her, more than a bit of white showing at the edges of his eyes. She knew he didn't understand, so she grunted and motioned to her piled equipment that he had unknowingly scooted next to and was blocking.

"Ahh," Jim eloquently said, scrambling to his feet and moving to exit her room. Kathren ignored him as she bent down to grab her shit. The dirt caked into her skin, which was breaking apart as she moved, suddenly reminded her of her days living on the streets as a child.

Kathren had never been called, and never would be, a cursed 'morning person,' a shudder running through her at the very thought, but a decade in the legion had taught her at least a few lessons. Mainly, she learned that when anyone who actually knew her tried to get her up and willingly faced the threat of her bed knife, it meant nothing good. The options ranged from there would be a fight soon to someone important requiring her presence. Basically, she needed to get kitted now.

From the look on Anooha's face and the uneasy shifting from everyone else, it was the former. The hardest part of any fight was the wait for it to start, and no one ever really got used to the constant building tension; they only learned how to hide it better. The signs were as blatant as the noonday sun on all of them for those who knew what to look for.

Slipping into her cuirass and tightening the buckles and straps, she looked to Anooha and raised an eyebrow as she slipped on her bracers. Answering the unspoken question of why she was woken up, Anooha started talking, "Beastkin hoards appeared outside the Northern and Western Forts half an hour ago… They are forming up for what appears to be an assault on the walls. Ladders, battering rams, and what appears to be dozens of siege towers have been spotted… Honestly, I've never seen the equipment constructed so fast in a legion, let alone by beastkins, and theirs a fear in the air." A grim look passed behind her eyes. Anooha did not have much more experience than Kathren, but they both knew the horror of battle was coming.

Giving a shake of her head, Anooha focused on Kathren again, "We are being positioned on the Middle Fort." Giving a feigned indifferent shrug, she added, "Might be some of the fiercest fightings with those barges and towers… And from what I heard, we're getting a mishmash of centuries from all over the legion. It should be a good time, right!" She tried to make her voice excited but fell short. Coughing, Anooha continued, "And if the Triad starts to fall, we are supposed to report to the Senate with a full account of the battle."

Kathren only nodded her head. It was to be expected. They were scouts. The only way to become one was by fulfilling your first decade of compulsory service and signing back up for another tour.

Everyone from the highest noble to the lowest orphaned street rat was supposed to serve in the legion, though it didn't quite work out that way. If a street rat didn't sign up, no one came looking to force them, but they would be trapped in the shit hole they were born into for the rest of their lives.

As for the nobles, while all of them did serve, more often than not, it was in a civic legion that patrolled a city's streets and never went more than five miles from the walls. After whatever one's compulsory service entailed, everyone had the right to leave the legion, but if they stayed, the legionaries were considered veterans.

Scouts are the veterans who are exceptionally skilled in being stealthy. Not having them in a position to fight would be stupid. Putting them into a new century and disrupting it before a major battle would be idiotic. Placing them in a critical but relatively small section of the battle where they could leave to report on the events of the battle made sense.

Adjusting her bracers, she slung on her belt and then her cloak. Turning to Anooha, she grunted, "Ready."

The other woman only nodded before turning and striding away, the three others of her squad trailing behind. Rolling her left shoulder, Kathren's hands quickly tapped over the spikes strapped to the leather strap crossing her chest. Then, to the three knives and short sword scattered over her person.

Stepping out of her room, she saw Joxin give her a half smile and flick of the fingers from where he was leaning on the far wall. Jim was beside him, half trying to hide behind Joxin, giving her sidelong glances. Kathren only snorted before grunting, "Come on," while tilting her head after Anooha.

Not waiting for them, Kathren turned and started walking away, hearing a quick pattering of footsteps a few seconds later until they steadied out an arm's length behind her. "Here," Joxin said, causing her to turn and look at him while continuing to walk. He was holding out a square legion shield, identical to the one strapped onto his back.

Kathren noticed that Joxin and the others were carrying them, but she didn't think about the reasons as her mind was still asleep. Slowly, the trainee scout reached out with a nod of thanks, sliding her arm into its straps. It kind of felt like a step backward, strapping on a shield again, but then she reminded herself that shields save lives and a weapon didn't care about your rank.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

When they stepped out into the cool night air, she momentarily looked up to the sky, seeing that the stars and moon were blanketed by thick dark clouds. "That's not a good sign…" She muttered to herself before turning and following behind the other group.

The seven walked through the Western Fort as the walls echoed with distant footsteps marching in tandem and shouts of command. Kathren's eyes tracked three centuries marching together past them, heading towards the nearby staircase leading up to the top of the Western Fort's outer walls. The century leading the train had faces sent into blank masks as their bodies were loose, marking them as veterans. Some were even managing to crack a joke or two with each other, though the laughs were too forced.

Trailing behind the leading men were boys who looked like they didn't belong there and didn't know what they were doing, also known as the fresh-faced fish. The youths… well, by the end of the night, they wouldn't be fish anymore. You can't see the deaths of hundreds and still be called a child. It was the first of many groups they saw while moving through the fort.

As the trainee scouts made their way along the roads, something was bothering Kathren. It was the troops they were passing, and she wasn't talking about the fish centuries. It was most of the others they were passing. They almost looked like… "Southtown militia?" Kathren asked, more to herself than anyone else.

"Yep," said one of the men following Anooha as he turned to look at Kathren with a bright smile. If she had been less tired, she might have called him cute, bordered on handsome. Right now, she just wanted to smack him for looking so chipper at a god-awful hour. "The night before you arrived, we heard rumors they might be called up. After you returned, well… word of your report spread fast. And the call for the militia went out soon after…"

The man looked sheepish for a moment, then asked, "So, is it true?"

"What did you hear?" Kathren asked.

"…That our instructor and the others were killed. That they were a distraction for you three to get back to report an army of tens of thousands… That— that the beastkin have… boats?" His voice was uncertain at the end of his sentence, filled with trepidation.

It was one thing for beastkin to suddenly have powers able to turn night into day. That just proved what everyone long suspected about them having some form of abilities. But them being able to build? To have a strategy to take the fort other than running at the walls until they overwhelm them with bodies was… wrong. It was like the foundation of their beliefs had been turned upside down.

She could tell by the tightening of the backs of the squad of scouts and the half-turned heads of the others that the three of them were listening as close as the one asking the question. What was his name again? He looks familiar…

"Yes," she stated. "What's your name anyway?"

The man looked at Kathren in shock, his voice a mix of disbelief and distress. "I've told you my name like… three times."

Kathren shrugged indifferently, "Huh… I guess you didn't make an impression on me then… Sorry?" She was starting to regret asking. Anooha's shoulders began to violently shake while the two others turned their heads away from Kathren and the man, hunching over slightly.

The man spluttered, his face shifted from indignation to incredulity, "Wh— I ca— We had sex! How the fuck can't you remember that!" He finally shouted, his voice echoing around the street. When he noticed, his face flushed, and he looked away, but everyone on the avenue had already looked at him and were chuckling openly.

"Sorry, Ritchor," said the man walking to the right of the one she was talking to, patting his shoulder in commiseration, but he could not hide his smirk. The others in their group were hunched over, laughing, still attempting to regain control of themselves. Eventually, Anooha turned around, a smile touching her face. "Told you she didn't remember. Plastered was an understatement for her that night." She said to Ritchor, wiping a tear from her eyes.

Ritchor had a deep olive skin color with dark hair and brown eyes. If you combine that with his muscular body, she could see why she slept with him. Way to go, drunk me! She thought, mentally patting herself on the back as they continued to walk…

And yet… the self-congratulation was hollow. Sleeping with someone was a stupid and unnecessary risk that would have changed the course of her life. More to the point, Kathren couldn't help but acknowledge the growing well of self-disgust that had been eating away at her for a while. It was long since past the time when she could give her virtue to only her husband… Not that any man would want someone like me as a wife.

Pulled out of her dark thoughts by the light-hearted banter that the burst of laughter caused, the atmosphere hanging over the fort seemed lighter, and the walk became a little easier. It wasn't much, and the oppressive potential of the storm overhead was still pushing down on them, but the attitudes pushed any dark thoughts back for the moment. It wasn't the time to think of anything like that, as soon enough, the bitter darkness would become unavoidable.

Keeping her mind occupied, Kathren's eyes skimmed over the militia marching by her. Few had whole suits of armor, most missing a few pieces of gear or had holes chewed into them. Some didn't even have any armor at all, having to make do with just a tunic as they clutched their weapons too tight to their chest. And she didn't see a single spear or sword in the groups without spots of rust on the blades.

That was nothing to say about the fact most were middle-aged or older, and it showed that they hadn't exercised regularly in… decades? That has to be the minimum to from those guts. Which was expected as the Triad was not known for its laborers.

While all had experience in the legion, fighting skills — like steel — rusted without proper care. And fighting in a battle was not something you wanted to be rusty at. It was your life on the line, after all. Collum after collum marched past their group in a rush as they walked to and up the Western Bridge of the Triad.

Kathren's eyes flicked up the bridge, and they landed on the gates of the Middle Fort. In truth, the fort was an oversized triangle of gatehouses at the intersection of the three bridges of the Triad. The walls extended twenty feet out to the sides of the twenty-five-foot wide bridges that were lit every twenty feet by sunstones placed on two ten-foot tall pedestals, interrupting the bridge's retaining walls. Each point of the triangle had a fifty-foot tower with arrow slits lining them facing the causeways.

The few times a hoard had overrun the walls of one of the forts, they had never taken the Middle Fort. The simple fact was that there was no way to fill up the half-mile-wide river a hundred-plus feet below bridges with bodies to reach over the walls. Any time the bodies of the bridge got close, they were shoved off with a blast of psy into the river.

Shifting her eyes, she looked at those exiting the western gate of the Middle Fort. Every face they passed was bloodless and pale, their eyes filled with fear as their centurions and optios barked at them to keep marching. The look in their eyes was like they had thought they had woken up from a nightmare long ago but suddenly realized they were still within it.

Turning around to see what they were staring at, Kathren felt the blood drain from her face. The weak light of the moon had broken through the clouds and partially lit up the field before the Western Fort's walls. Out in the distance, she spotted rank after rank of yellow dots and shadowy forms. Then, a bolt of lightning tore across the clouds, lighting the night with its azure-white brilliance.

The beastkins silently stood in unending rows until they vanished into the darkness of the grasslands. When Kathren finally heard the crack of thunder, the veil of darkness dropped over the world once more. But she still knew the monsters were out there, longing to break past the walls…

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