Seamus had never been good with pressure. Even before he snapped, the heir to the Halvorson clan was always a quiet and meek person. Skilled enough to kill men and fast enough to do it in succession, sure, but ask him to choose between certain cases of wine, and he'd freeze and ponder the question longer than necessary. It was a wonder that Kate had managed to get him to court her properly.

Even now, Seamus struggled with handling pressure and stress. He had trouble figuring out Kate's wants and was confused more times than he'd like to admit when she tried to throw him hints.

So, it was no wonder that he failed to react properly when orcs attacked the Northern Front.

"Get to arms! Now!" someone shouted right next to him. Gruk, an orc who was in charge of Bone Squad. Seamus turned to the squad leader, who bore a strange frilled mane on his helmet. He gestured to the nearby rack of spears, which laid against the palisade that had recently been erected in the inner sections of the island.

Seamus watched as both orcs and men rushed to grab spears, their focus on beyond the wall, beyond the forest that surrounded them. On the gravel beach, a front that was still underprepared for the upcoming assault. The same assault that had come earlier than expected.

"I want an update on their numbers and a messenger to send to Frue Astera!" Gruk commanded as he stood upon the wallwalk, his hands raising a spotting glass over the parapet. A nearby messenger, a human, stumbled to the stairs that led to the wall walk, nerves clearly getting the best of them. Seamus recognized them as one of the scribes who had been hired months back by James to keep a check on merchant funds and Vindis revenue. He had assumed most of them would be kept around the town hall to keep track of and assist Dahlia with her new duties. Now, however, it seemed as if they served a different purpose.

Seamus shook himself out of his initial surprise and fear, his focus on the top of the wall. He hurried to follow the messenger, being careful not to step on any rotted wood or misplaced floorboard. While he commended the orcs for their timely construction, he did not trust their disregard for safety.

He reached the wall walk just as the messenger wrote down the message Gruk gave him. After a couple seconds, the scribe nodded and hurried past Seamus toward the town hall, where the island's current base lay. Seamus watched him go, silently cursing the Domain spell that had wreaked havoc on their magical communications. No longer would they be able to use spell crystals to send messages across the island. Now, they relied on runners who were hindered by terrain and would take ten times as long to deliver vital messages.

"How's it looking?" Seamus asked as he watched their forces rush to the outer defenses, which were still under construction. The trenches, while easy on paper, had turned out to be somewhat difficult to dig out. For one, the hard dirt was nearly impossible to dig through, and the orcs had to use picks and axes to soften it enough. Still, with what they had, they should stand a better chance. At least, that was what Seamus hoped.

"They're having trouble with the barbed wire," Gruk said as he held the spotting glass to his eye. He watched for a few seconds and passed the tool to Seamus, who gingerly took it. He hesitated and peered through.

Through the barren branches and trees, Seamus could get a glimpse of the gravel beach. The attacking orcs were just as he remembered, their armor consisting of scrap steel that was strapped to their bodies with wire and rope. Their crude weapons were rusted, and it was clear they weren't properly taken care of.

Seamus couldn't help but feel a bit of relief and joy when he watched the orcs come across the field of barbed wire that spread across the tree line, where the gravel ended and the terrain moved uphill. Tunneled in by the dirt cliffs that rose higher than they stood, the orcs were forced to traverse the gnarled field of steel thorns.

They struggled through the field, clearly not used to it. All the while, they were pelted with spears and rocks by the incoming forces. For a minute, it seemed like they'd all just retreat and leave the Northern Front. Yet that possibility waned as the orcs forced their way through, ignoring the barbs that tore at their skin.

"They're going to break through," Seamus realized aloud in horror. He took a step back, his hands handing the spotting glass back to Gruk, who gave a grunt.

"Just as I thought," the orc growled. "Those bastards could lose an arm and still want to fight. This won't be easy."

"What can we do?" Seamus asked, his hands gripping on the wall. Even without the spotting glass, he could see how the distant blobs of humans and orcs clashed with the invaders. He flinched despite the lack of noise. A deep fear began to rear its ugly head, the situation bringing it to life within Seamus.

He gritted his teeth and tried to force that fear back. No, this was not the fort. Yorktown would not fall to these bastards. Seamus had to strike his chest with a fist to drive that feeling back. He was stronger, better. Meek, still, but better at hiding his fear. He would no longer be that coward again.

"We wait for an answer from the Frue and perhaps reinforcements. Regardless, we'll hold ground here and hope those bastards don't break through," Gruk said.

"I can help," Seamus muttered, his hand feeling for his side sword. "I can fight."

"No," Gruk commanded with a gruff denial. "You're too important for the Northern Front. You're not allowed to fight."

Seamus internally cursed at that but did not reply. He knew better than to go running into a fight like this. Still, it pained him to know that there were men and orcs willing to put their lives on the line for him. It reminded him of a darker time.

Both of them watched the distant battle with grim resolve, Gruk ordering and moving troops during the ordeal. While Silas was technically commander of the Northern Front, he left the battle tactics to his second, Gruk. The orc was a member of the Monster Hunters, Horuk's own clan. He now stood in as their leader until the aforementioned Horuk returned to command them once more.

After nearly an hour of this, the attacking orcs broke and retreated. They hurried back through the barbed wire, leaving their wounded and dead behind. While Seamus couldn't hear much, he could still catch the faint echoes of cheering in the distance. The attackers were repelled. Still, why did this feel the farthest thing from a victory?

"Shit," Gruk muttered. He spat something green to the side. "I figured as much."

"What?" Seamus started to ask, but then the scribe from earlier arrived back. He huffed and panted with exertion, face red as he struggled to climb the steps. He raised a piece of parchment above his head, straight at Gruk.

"Frue Astera…" the messenger panted. "She says…"

"Gimme that," Gruk growled as he took the paper. "Take a breather before you pass out on my battlements." The orc glanced at the words, staring at them intently before he handed it to Seamus. "I can't read this."

Seamus blinked at that but still accepted the missive. He skimmed the written words.

"Dahlia says that the other fronts aren't under attack. She conferred with Felix and Helen via Elaine to confirm this."

"Just as I figured," Gruk said with a grunt. He crossed his arms and looked toward the distant aftermath. "This was a false attack. They want to probe for weaknesses, see if there's any holes in our defenses."

"Oh," Seamus said, his hand lowering the parchment as he stared out at where the battle took place. Judging by the bodies, he could barely make out where the fighting stopped. The trenches.

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"They know about the trenches now," Gruk said, almost as if he read the young man's thoughts.

"Oh," Seamus simply replied, void of any other words. He could only watch, his heart pounding as he took in the now-devolving situation.

When Seamus arrived at the longhouse, he was surprised to find it packed with scribbling scribes and soldiers, all shouting and speaking over each other. The chaos of the town hall was something he still wasn't used to as of yet. Neither Dahlia, it seemed, as the young man spotted the Frue amidst the scrambling men and women. Her voice was drowned out in the cacophony, her hands gesturing to papers and general directions. Messengers stopped by and rushed off to their destinations, shoving past the entrance as they made their way.

Seamus could see how most of the scribes were focused on organizing and taking reports from incoming soldiers, their calls for specifics filling the longhouse with a buzz that was vaguely familiar to him. Seamus shook off that feeling and instead headed his way to Dahlia, who was talking to the latest messenger. Seamus recognized them as Elaine, the bard now acting as a vital messenger throughout the island, thanks to her unique spells and utterances.

He watched as the bard relayed a message, her voice hushed as she handed a folded letter, the messy signature signifying it as coming from the Southern Front, where Helen was stationed to watch over. Dahlia nodded and took the letter before she handed one of her own to the clearly exhausted bard.

"Take this to Silas. He should be scouting the western part of the island," she said before she gave Elaine another slip of paper with her neat signature. "Make sure to head to Falrick's with this. He'll requisition you a couple vitality potions for your run."

Elaine gave a silent nod, her body perking up a little as she took the paper. Without a word, she turned and headed out. Seamus watched her go, a frown on his lips as he turned to Dahlia. She leaned over her table, which was covered in ripped scraps of paper that were fervently scribbled on by desperate and hasty hands.

"Message?" Dahlia asked as Seamus walked up to her place in the longhouse.

"Just wanted to check up on you," Seamus admitted. "I know this isn't easy on you despite the help. I could help more if I can, but…"

Dahlia nodded. "You wouldn't happen to have another casting up your sleeve? Perhaps one that can speed you up like that fancy Flash Strike?"

Seamus grimaced and shook his head. "I haven't been able to replicate Flash Strike since Vindis. And that's the only one I can remember. The other two are unknown to me, and Falrick himself doesn't know which ones they could be."

"Didn't he teach you?" Dahlia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, he taught me the basics of meditation and attunement. The spells were learned through my studying on my lonesome." Seamus revealed. "Falrick was a busy man during those times, barely had enough time to assist me in learning. He just threw a couple tomes at me and wished me the best of luck."

"That's…." Dahlia blinked and tried to find the words. "It is a miracle that you've managed to learn three castings on your own."

"Two," Seamus corrected. "My mother taught me Flash Strike. At least, according to what I can dredge up from my shattered memories."

He looked around the busy longhouse, listening to the shouts of reports and updates. "The Northern Front was the only one they attacked," he muttered to her.

Dahlia nodded.

"It was also one of our most protected ones," Seamus continued.

Dahlia nodded again.

"They saw the trenches."

Dahlia did not respond. Seamus turned back to her and suppressed his fear. It would do none of them any good if he allowed himself to be taken in by his anxiety. "Please tell me that we're making progress in our defenses."

A week had passed since their last meeting about building up island defenses. A week since they started employing trenches and barbed defenses. The Fireball mines were still a work in progress, pushed back by a few days. Seamus thanked the gods for the convenient timing, for if those orcs knew about them…

"Falrick will start planting those runes soon," Dahlia said in a breath, loud enough for Seamus to hear but quiet enough to not allow any of the scribes to hear. "Marion has already started drawing warding sigils around vital points. She believes that she could diminish the effects of the Dissonance Cloud enough to allow me to send a message."

Seamus perked up at that but did his best to lower expectations. He needed to be prepared for the worst, just in case. He learned long ago that wishful thinking, more often than not, bit him in the ass.

"Marion? The undead?" Seamus recalled the living corpse that had made a stir around the island half a month back when Malik had left her behind as his stand-in. She was a disturbing thing, with glossy eyes, and unnaturally pale skin, her voice almost a wisp. Yet Marion moved around like a real person, talked with mannerisms befitting a young woman, and even learned sarcasm at some point. Strange all around.

Dahlia nodded, failing to hide her visible disgust at the mention of Malik's servant. "Apparently, she picked up a few things from our dear necromancer. I'm not sure of the full extent of her abilities since she does not specify what she is proficient in."

"Regardless, her knowledge is useful," Seamus muttered with a thoughtful tap to his chin. A morbid thought crossed his mind, making him grimace. Dahlia noticed it and raised an eyebrow. Seamus sighed and decided to speak his mind. "Can… Can she raise the bodies Malik hid around the island? Perhaps even some of the orcs we killed today?"

The second those words left him, Seamus felt nauseous. He had never been good with death, reanimated or not. It left a sour taste in his mouth and turned his stomach upside down. No, Seamus loathed the idea of bringing dead bodies back to life. Still, the option presented them with an opportunity to minimize friendly casualties. Hel, the corpses could probably act as fodder, giving their forces ample time to turn tides against the orcs.

Dahlia visibly seemed to consider the option, her eyes closing as a deep frown formed on her lips. She pondered for a moment before shuddering and shaking her head.

"No. I don't even think Marion can do such a thing, but I'd rather not find out. Besides, Malik placed certain enchantments on those corpses. If her attempts fail, then we're left to burn the cadavers and waste even more time," Dahlia said. She looked at Seamus, who did his best not to show any sense of relief. Or disappointment.

"Of course," Seamus said with a nod. "It was just an idea. Perhaps we won't need to if we get that message through."

"Perhaps," Dahlia agreed. Seamus watched the new Frue with clear worry. There was exhaustion clear in the way she slumped in place, those sullen eyes indicating sleepless nights. He could tell that this siege wasn't the only thing that was weighing down on her. With an awkward hand, Seamus gently grabbed her shoulder. He gave her what he hoped was his best reassuring smile.

Dahlia looked at him, her brow raised as Seamus tried to find the right words. He sputtered a little, tripping over himself as he tried to say, 'Everything will be alright' and 'You're not alone in this' at the same time.

He ended up saying, "Everything will be alone in this. You're not alright."

Dahlia stared. Seamus blinked and tried to reorient himself. "I… I meant to say–"

His friend laughed, her eyes closing as she allowed her to double over. Seamus watched with burning cheeks, the entire longhouse going silent as their Frue giggled and snorted, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to muffle the noise. After a few seconds, Dahlia stood back up, her back straightening as she did her best to hold back another wave of laughter. She nearly broke when she saw Seamus' look of surprise and embarrassment.

Seamus couldn't help but chuckle at that, his closed fist going over his lips as he coughed. He was happy to see that despite his fumbling, Dahlia's spirits were raised. She smiled brightly at him, her tired expression from before now gone. She stood up straighter, which made Seamus' embarrassing display even more worth it.

Two months ago, this sight of her would be accompanied by another person, one who would've laughed along and tried his best to be sincere to poor Seamus. That person wasn't here, however, and Seamus felt an emptiness at the realization. He held back the frown that threatened to bring his smile down.

"I'll be heading to the town to check our defenses there," Seamus said. "And look out for Kate. Will you be fine here? I can send Felix to help."

Dahlia shook her head. "No, I'm quite alright here. I'll handle things."

Seamus nodded and broadened his grin. "Good. I'll be off then."

As he began to walk away, Dahlia called after him one last time.

"Seamus?"

He turned to see her.

"Thank you. For being here."

Seamus smiled and turned to leave the longhouse.

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