Spots filled my vision, my eyes watered, and a slight ringing filled my ears, but I didn't care. My gaze was locked on the new bridge arching across the Rush. I just couldn't look away from the charred and slightly melted stone blocks that were put into place and fused together by lightning. Blocks which were taken from the walls of the Northern Fort… Of course, this was after killing all those who manned them, ripping the battlements apart, and then moving them at least a couple hundred feet to where they now were.

Finally blinking enough to banish the stars filling my vision, I looked around the barge's deck. Everyone I looked at had a pale face as they looked up at the clear night sky — the now visible stars somehow appearing like they were mocking us — or were staring at the bridge that a creature consisting of living lightning constructed.

After the first few seconds of the lightning assaulting our ears and eyes, the knights erected a barrier around the ship to block out most of the noise. We could still hear the sounds, but the noise was like someone dropping a pot on the other side of the house. Everyone knows what is happening, but the racket is only deafening to the one in the room.

I turned from those on the barge to look at the Northern Fort of the Triad, remembering all the bolts of lightning crashing to the ground… Falling on a fort filled with legionaries. It was an impossible event. But so is ripping out someone's soul… I suppressed a shudder at the thought. Never again can anyone deny a soul existing without me thinking them a fool. Any disbelief was literally ripped from my mind.

And if it was supposedly impossible but still happened… the lightning was a targeted attack. How many people survive lightning blasts? With all the stories of survivors, the odds have to be pretty good, right? But how many would be able to fight afterward?

I could feel the growing hole in my gut tell me the answer. Few, if any, would be able to shrug it off. And with the defenses torn open at the seams, those still able to fight would be overwhelmed before they could gather. A thud sounded to my right, and I looked over at Knight Centurion Brackus standing on the deck, his face set into a grim mask.

"I received word that what is left of the legion is pulling back to the Southern Fort. Beastkins are pouring into the Northern and Western Forts and will soon cut off the bridges, leaving hundreds, even thousands, of legionaries trapped. We have been ordered to gather as many legionaries from the Northern Fort as we can, then escort them to safety."

He stopped talking, and the light of the burning barge towers turned the slant of his lips vicious, "I believe we can do far more than escort a few hundred." His head turned slightly, and he examined the lines of barges upriver. Portions were filled with sinking ships, but large sections weren't. More than enough to stretch across the Twins.

The despondent mood growing on the deck vanished as we were given a course of action. No matter our origins, our ranks, or the view of the rest of the Republic about our fort and the 15th Legion as a whole, we had our pride. Our fort and legion's history stretched back over a thousand years. Watching the deaths of our brothers and sisters was not something that we could take lying down. Because we were Legion.

Pushing aside my exhaustion and growing fears about my mental energy, I was ready to charge forward again, and I would not be alone. Even Celeste had a fire burning in her eyes as she looked at the new bridge. It did not matter if the beastkins had powers we couldn't comprehend or mimic.

We would fight, and we would hold until relieved, just like everyone else in our history.

The knight commander looked at our faces and nodded in approval. "Kaloma and Veelam, take your squads and clear and capture enough barges to span the river. Move them to the Southtown's northern docks and line them up. Pekloo, secure the docks on the Northern Fort with your squad. Lukus, take the rest of the men and move into the Northern Fort and stall the advance of the beastkins as best you can. the rest of you scatter into the fort and spread the word of a new escape route." With his orders given to those on the deck, he took a step to his left and launched himself into the air, streaking toward the not entirely engulfed northern tower barge and those knights still on the deck.

I saw him stand on the charred wood for a moment, then as one, all of the knights on the tower barge started climbing up the tiered ladders leading up to the bridge above. They quickly ascended up the device and disappeared, but the knights on our boat were not waiting and watching them like I was. The ship was already moving, propelled by the knights on deck, while the others had leaped into the water.

Despite becoming a small city of little import, the Triad had once been a significant base for the Republic. It functioned as the supply hub for the legions stationed in the northeastern provinces. To facilitate the shipping traffic, four docks were built on the Triad, one in both the Western and Northern Forts and two on the Southern Fort, one on the Western side and the other on the Northern.

All of those docks still exist today, even if they were far smaller and in disrepair than they once would have been allowed to be. The docks for the Northern Fort were located at the fort's easternmost section on the Twins. A straight shot across the river was the smaller docks of the Southern Fort, as not that much trade was coming to the fort from Basetown.

With the full might of the knights behind it, the barge shot forward, going faster than it had ever gone before. Standing at the deck's edge, I could feel the spray of frigid water as we hit the waves and the shudders in the wood as we hit chunks of ice.

I half turned to the knights at the prow as I felt the ship shudder again but held my tongue. There was no way they didn't notice, so it was apparent they didn't care about the potential damage to the boat as it continued to plow through the river as fast as before, their eyes locked on our destination. All I could do was have faith that they had a plan.

After minutes of moving at speed, the barge was quickly approaching our destination. The four piers comprising the Northern Fort stuck fifty yards into the water along a couple hundred yards section of the river bank. The fort's walls angled around the region, forming a rectangular area of land fifty yards deep, with the stone gates into the fort at its center. Further up the river, the walls continued another few hundred yards before turning north.

Before I could hesitantly ask anyone if we were coming up to the piers too fast, a knight shouted, "Brace yourselves!" The words were hardly out of the man's mouth before the boat spun one-hundred-eighty degrees, throwing me to the deck as it drastically decelerated.

Contrary to my expectations, the smallest of bumps signaled our arrival, and before I could get my bearings, I was being shouted at again. "Get up and move into the fort and gather those you find! But don't go too far!" The knight boomed, unfazed by the maneuver.

Carefully getting to my feet after we stopped moving, I held down my building nausea, eyeing the ship beneath me in concern. The creeks and groans from the straining wood were no longer there, but I could clearly make out the gurgling of water. Like it was slipping into…

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Eyes widening in realization, I shot to my feet, ignoring the flop in my stomach in protest, and quickly moved to the far railing, joining the crowd gathered there. The knights already had whatever mental conversation they needed and were rushing down the docks after throwing some ropes attached to the pier onto the ship's railings.

Hastily tying off the boat, we jumped down the seven feet to the stone dock before moving down the pier after the knights. As we stomped our way toward the Northern Fort's walls, I saw a knight standing on the shore waving his hands around. I missed a step in surprise as the water next to the pier started boiling before it pulled back like a curtain, revealing the start of a mud path leading right up to the sinking ship. Guess the holes really didn't matter.

Stepping onto dry land for the first time in far too long, I looked to my sides. Sathera and Bellous had taken up positions to my left and right, making us a team of three. The rest of the legionaries on the boat had come to the same unspoken consensus and had also broken into small groups as we moved.

The stone slabs beneath my feet were covered in so much mud and dirt they might as well not even be there. Especially because it didn't matter if there was stable ground, as there was nothing between the docks and walls except for empty space. However, there was a good reason for it. Very little was built along the banks of the Ruch and Twins, as the rivers' yearly surges made it nearly impossible for simple structures to remain standing.

The only reason a dock remained was that this was still technically a Legion Fort, even if it had become more of a school and training grounds than anything else. According to the regulations, all permanent forts on a river needed a place to stage supplies in case of a siege. So every year or two, someone got the shit detail of rebuilding the piers.

Muscles burning from the mild run that made me puff for air far too much, we reached the rising steel portcullis as the stone gates in front swung open, causing relief to surge through me. The whole time we were running to the gate, I was throwing glances at the walls and wasn't seeing any movement on them. This might have been the back of the battle, but the legion knew beastkins were coming from the river. Someone should have been posted here to keep watch… This isn't a good start.

Running into the passage, I saw a figure in armor drop to the ground at the far end with a clatter of metal. Over each shoulder of the knight were the limp forms of legionaries, who gave off a distinct charred smell as I approached. Shit.

Stepping past the knight who had started jogging down the tunnel with their passengers, I moved into the fortress proper and froze in place, looking around. The immediate area around the gates to the docks was a collection of warehouses.

But the stone structures couldn't house anything anymore. It looked like a massive hammer smashed their roofs inward, exploding the walls out to the sides. The sunstones that were supposed to hang on the walls of the buildings or on lamp posts were either destroyed or buried, throwing the area into shifting darkness.

My eyes moved past the immediate neighborhood of destruction, seeing more of the same, if to a lesser scale. I watched the lightning creature build the bridge from the destroyed wall, but the sight was… distant. Like I was in a dream, watching the events happen without it really affecting me.

I knew from wandering around this location in the past on midnight strolls that the last time the warehouses were maintained was measured in decades, if not longer. Most only held long-collected dust and pieces of forgotten trash. But as I saw the destroyed buildings, I heard a distant thought. Nothing more than a whisper flickering across the back of my mind. …Why am I fighting?

"Argh!" I grunted in pain, hand clutching my tunic over my chest as if it would soothe the spear of pain deep inside my heart. At that moment, my eyes locked on a figure lying among the scattered blocks of a building.

Bricks were stacked next to the head, casting a shadow over the face. I reared back as the streaks of light and shadow twisted, and I suddenly saw Bark's face. Her body was surrounded by collapsed stone, her chest weakly moving as she struggled to take a shuddering breath.

Blinking, the shadows snapped back into place, and I was looking at the face of a woman in the prime of life, blood caking one side of her head from a wide gash just below her hairline. My brows wrinkled in confusion as I thought of the old woman, my breathing hitching as I felt a flare of concern. I had never felt like this in all my years of service. Unable to tear my gaze away from the woman, the sides of my vision turned black, encroaching on the center with every rapid beat of my heart.

"Are you okay, Instructor?" Sathera asked, snapping my mind into focus. Head jerking to the woman, I saw the concern radiating off her, causing me to bite back my annoyed response.

"Fine," I gasped, waving her off, trying to shove away the pointless thoughts writhing in my head and focus on the job. I could tell she didn't believe me, but I ignored her piercing eyes. After taking a few breaths to focus and steady my mind, I stated, "Let's move." However, I was unsure if I was moving to save as many people as possible or if I was trying to escape my thoughts.

I saw some go to the stairs leading to the wall, others search the destruction, and a couple like me head into the heart of the fort, but I did not care. I had a goal in mind, even if I didn't want to think about it, and not much else mattered.

At first, all we found were destroyed buildings, and the atmosphere turned heavy as the tension built with every step. The cries and clangs of a fierce battle were all around us, and whenever we turned a corner, I thought we would find a fight raging on the street.

But every time, there was nothing.

I could faintly hear the slaps of our footsteps as we passed one line of empty barracks after another, the sharp smell of ozone and iron perpetually filling my nose. After dozens of minutes of running and nearing the middle of the fort, we stepped around the corner and onto a street leading to the main boulevard running through the camp. I only took a single step before stuttering to a stop, uncertain of what to do next. All I could do was stare at the unexpected street filled with legionaries.

The wounded — and I couldn't see one man who wasn't one — were shuffling down its length. Open, bloody gashes and bloody bandages were everywhere. Most had shocked, dull expressions, while other's faces were pasted with determination. Shouts of centurions, optios, or commands echoed off the walls as they tried to instill order and reform for battle, but all these people wanted was to retreat.

As I went to take a step forward, I flinched back from the mental pressure of their thoughts. It was like I had been abruptly pushed into a union with all of them. I felt the desperation pouring out from their muddled thoughts in the form of a bridge, as everyone knew it was their only way out. Reinforcing the shield on my mind, which took more effort than I expected, I turned south.

I looked toward the loudest booms and sounds of combat in the fort. If any of them were thinking clearly, they would know their hope was fruitless. Or maybe they did know, but it was all they had to keep them going.

"Spread the word to the south," I told the two following me as I took off down the street. "To the docks!" I shouted, "Go to the docks! There are ships waiting for you!" Some of those around listened to me, but I never stopped moving to convince the ones who didn't, as I genuinely couldn't care less if they grasped their last hope for life or not. Because they don't care about me…

But I kept shouting anyway, doing my duty… Like I always have. Over and over, I yelled, not stopping until the crowd vanished. I was a few streets from the fort's outer walls, and surprisingly, I never saw any actual fighting on the way there. I could not move any further, and not because the road was blocked. It was just because my feet wouldn't move anymore.

The building I was standing before was in the center of the wall's arch, placed in an optimal position to gather the wounded for the center section of the Northern Fort's wall. Where else would a forward aid station be? A Medico Ward I knew Bark would be at.

A ward that was smashed like a sandcastle jumped onto by a child by the boulder in its center. My eyes flicked to the arms and legs poking out of the destruction, causing a fist to clench at my heart. Slumping to the ground, I stared at a single arm, its callous and all too familiar hand locked into a mockery of a wave by two pieces of stone trapping it.

Time passed, and I didn't move a muscle, only coming out of my state of shock when a soft voice spoke next to me, "I am truly sorry for the loss of life. But this is necessary."

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