Four hours. Enemies to meet.

Tien clambered over the bodies on the battlefield, doing his best to hurry as fast as possible without slipping on the blood and loose stones. He repeated the message under his breath again and again so he wouldn't forget it. An arrow whizzed over his head. His recitation faltered, so he started from the beginning again. He climbed over a protruding boulder and continued up the hill, legs straining, eyes searching for someone with commander's knots.

There! A ragtag group hurried towards him. Maybe they'd be with Brightlord Tashlin.

"Sir! Do you know-"

Their leader, who was not the commander, grabbed his arm and jolted him to a halt. "Boy, what are you doing?! This is a rout! Get equipped! We're floundering and Amaram called for the reserve forces."

"But I need to carry this message to-"

"What's the message?"

"I'm only supposed to report it to Brightlord Tashlin."

"He's dead."

"Oh."

"Well, out with it!"

"The enemy's left flank is closing in. It looks like they're going to surround the hill, and we should redirect any available soldiers to our right flank to hold them off."

The man grumbled and made a signal to his men. Tien stood still for a moment, awaiting further orders, until he grabbed his arm again and started dragging him along.

"Get equipped," he repeated. "The reserve forces are being sent to the southeast side to help too, so you can come with me. You'll be with Varth. Brightlord Sheler's company."

Tien's heart dropped, but he stammered out a "yes sir." He scrambled to get a spear and armor, then catch up with the other squad.

Four hours. Keepin' our feet.

The reserve force! They'd called his troop the reserve force! He wasn't a soldier. He was a messenger, and they promised that he'd only be in the reserve force for when the battles got real bad. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

He knew the answer. He just didn't want to believe it. It all happened so fast he didn't even know where he was. He wore a too large vest and helmet and now he dragged himself towards the battle, stumbling forward across the rocky ground. He used his spear like a walking stick, distinctly aware that was NOT how it should be used but at a loss for what else to do with it. Did they really mean for him to fight? And at the heart of the battle? Shouldn't he be towards the back, where it'd be safer for the new recruits? He'd gone through basic training, but that didn't mean he could fight.

That didn't mean he could kill.

Where was Kaladin? Amaram promised they could stay together, but the last time he'd seen his big brother was a few days ago. Had he already died to the first volleys?

No. Tien refused to believe that. He needed to be brave and fight well. He'd make Kal proud of him. Kal was a great fighter, he'd be fine, Tien was sure.

Mostly sure. Hopefully sure. Tien just needed to copy how his older brother fought and he'd be fine too. Then they'd be together again. They'd laugh over the campfire and tell stories about battlefield glory. Anticipation spren whipped around his feet and he took that as a good sign, since they outnumbered the fear spren.

For now.

Now he just had to figure out how to hold the spear properly. Can't be that hard, right?

Four hours. Under arrow fire.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?! Where is your shield?"

Tien jumped as he realized the squad leader was talking to him. He hurried to collect one from the nearest fallen soldier, cringing as he pulled it off the man's arm. He whispered an apology and averted his eyes from the dull, glassy gaze of the corpse. Arrow shafts from the first assault stuck into the shield like a whitespine's spears. That wouldn't do. He set it on the ground, stepped on the rim with one foot, and tried to pull out as many as possible before someone shoved him forward. The older spearman behind him picked up the shield and thrust it into his arms.

"No time for that! Line up!"

"But!"

"Now!"

Tien stumbled forward to his place, pushed straight up to the front of the line. He strapped the spear to one arm and held the spear in that hand to wait. That wasn't how you were supposed to do it. He didn't care. He was too exhausted to bother with the proper way. They'd been fighting, and he'd been running messages for hours. The battle started after lunch, but now the sun dipped behind the horizon. They wouldn't keep fighting after dark, would they? If only this they could delay this skirmish for a few more minutes. Then he wouldn't have to fight. They'd pull out and regroup tomorrow. He could find his brother. They could be safe. Just like Amaram promised.

His free hand drifted to his pocket, and he pulled out his favorite rock. This one glowed in the dark, just a teeny bit. He guessed it might be part gemstone, which meant it could hold Stormlight. It glittered in the bloody red sunset. He wanted to give it to Kaladin, but it was too late. Soldiers already lined up across the field from him.

So it was really that bad.

He rubbed the stone with his thumb and held it to his chest. The fear spren crowded out the anticipation spren now, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before putting the rock back in his pocket. He felt a little stronger, and he would need all the courage he could find. Tien moved his spear into the ready position.

A horn sounded. The enemy charged.

Four hours. Prepare the pyres.

"TIEN!"

He snapped his head to look for the voice. The battle raged between them. He couldn't see Kaladin through the flood of people. He fought forward towards the sound, shoving his way through with the shield. Tien's squad pulled back, and for a moment, he saw his brother sprinting towards him, spear in hand. He grinned with wild excitement. Kal was here! Everything would be ok.

The enemies charged forward and slammed into him and his messenger friends with the force of a highstorm. Light reflecting off plate armor blinded Tien as they caught him in the surge. He threw his shield arm over his eyes in reflex as he lunged forward with his spear.

Pain shot through his side. Tien fell forward onto the hard stone. His spear slipped from his hands and clattered harmlessly to the ground. Pain. He touched his ribs, and his hand came away bloody.

Kal. Where was Kaladin? The ground shook as people and horses stormed around him, and he couldn't even curl into a ball to protect himself. Shuddering breaths shook his frame as his lungs refused to pull in air. Tears stung his eyes, and spasms shot through his spine. Kal would know how to fix this. Kal was a surgeon, like their father. Kal was here, a comforting hand on his shoulder, turning him over, cradling his head in his lap.

He wanted to say something; an apology, a goodbye. He wanted to give his brother the rock. He wanted to see his mother and father again. He wanted to play in the fields at home and work in the wood shop. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted Kaladin to smile.

It was too late. A tear dripped onto his face from above.

"Don't worry," Kaladin whispered and the sound of his cracking voice made Tien's heart wrench inside his chest. "I'll bring you home. I'll protect you, Tien. I'll bring you back…"

Tien tried to smile as his vision went black.