They had been seen in the early morning. No one slept the rest of the night out of fear, anticipation, and the sudden surge of adrenaline as the Templar camp had moved to only thirty kilometers beyond the walls. Just beyond the range of any siege weaponry, but still close enough to put everyone on edge. Keiren had cleared his office's main table, and had the map they had used so often laid in front of him. The sun wasn't even fully risen, and yet King Adelaide, Trace, Keith, Natani, and Richard stood around the map, silently observing. They knew what was coming. They knew they were outnumbered. And they knew that they had some extra tricks up their sleeves this time. Ptolmek, the military science director, had been working for weeks on a new weapon that boasted far greater accuracy and range than the first version of their muskets, and they had almost two hundred of these rifles. It was, however, nothing compared to the force that lay beyond their walls. After the last attack, the Basidian garrison that once stood six thousand strong had been cut down, but had been bolstered back to nearly full strength. Still, only seven thousand men stood ready to defend the city, which meant they were nearly outnumbered two to one, as twelve thousand soldiers lay waiting for the command to begin. "We will hold them. We must hold them." Keiren scowled. "As long as this city stands, there is hope that we can end the fighting before more innocent lives are taken."

"I'll fight by your side as long as I can." Trace said, determined. Outfitted with a suit of light chain mail armor, he was ready to fight. "Last time you were able to rally a counterattack, and I'd follow you again."

"While I appreciate the sentiment, it doesn't help us with our immediate problem. Those siege weapons will tear the walls to pieces. We need cavalry." Keiren sighed.

"We don't have enough horses to even try and mount an assault through their lines." Richard walked over, gesturing as he spoke. "Even if we struck where they are the weakest, we would be pushing past several lines of fortified defenders, right into a wall of pikes, and that's assuming their archers and crossbowmen don't tear our soldiers to ribbons. And even if they get in, they would not be coming back out. They have knights and lancers. Our forces would be cut off with no retreat. It would be suicide."

They fell to silence, the small wooden pieces they had used for weeks suddenly having a lot more weight to them. So many lay beyond the wall, and this time is wasn't a matter of winning or losing, it was a matter of life and death. Of victory and crushing defeat. And it paralyzed them with fear like nothing else could. Finally, Natani broke the deafening silence. "What's the plan then? Just surrender?"

"No." Keiren sat down in his chair, scowling at the very thought of giving up. "We will hold the line."

King Adelaide looked at the many pieces that lay beyond the walls, and shaking her head, she spoke somberly. "If they can out-range us, they can bombard the city with impunity, and we will be helpless to keep them from breaking the walls. If they do, we will be at a severe disadvantage, as our weapons rely on being at a distance, and being fortified behind cover." Suddenly, Keiren's face lit up.

"Behind cover? That's not a bad idea!" He reached around to a side table with books, pencils, pens, and other assorted items. "What if we build barricades? Put blockades through the streets, cut off alleyways and side paths, force anyone who comes in to go where we want them. Leave paths open, but only just, allowing us to stay behind cover even if we have to fall back? If they don't break the city, then everything is fine, but if they do, once they try to rush in, we can pick the apart from practically any angle. The towers are too tough to be brought down by anything short of a siege weapon, and to get in range, they would have to get close enough for us to fight back."

He placed various bits and pieces across the map, blocking certain parts of the city entirely, while leaving the main road practically untouched. "It would funnel them all into one area." Trace smirked, running his finger along the road. "Just knowing where they will have to go would be enough to turn the tide in our favor should it come to that. And if they wanted to clear a new path, it would slow them down significantly."

"I'll have Telk begin work immediately." Keith said, bowing to the King as he left the room. Everyone else began reaching for the map, moving pieces around like it was another one of their games. This time, they would win, completely and thoroughly.

…

Wagons were moved, boards were hammered into place, metal plating was fitted, and slowly the city became a fortified stronghold. All across Edinmire, men moved about, filtering into the armories from one side, and emerging with a full set of gear on the other. Javelins were taken to the walls with crossbow bolts and arrows, as well as small steel containers of niter with steel balls for the Basidian guns. Humans sharpened swords and pikes, Keidrans gathered mana crystals, Basitins polished armor, and Ishtaer took up arms with all the rest. Though they could not wear standard armor, the very sight of the Ishtaer through the crowds of people was awe-inspiring, their colored scales drawing eyes as they passed. The day went on with no movement from the Templars, the city of tents looming ever in the distance. Evening began to fall, and though they were on edge, many of the men were physically exhausted from building barricades all day. Still, they had done good work, and should the fighting begin, everyone who was able to fight would be there at a moment's notice. But some were too worried to sleep, even during the darkest parts of night. Trace walked through the city in silence broken only by his own footsteps. The night watch greeted him with gentle nods and some salutes. Without thinking he wandered his way through the city to the northern gate, where he saw he was not the only one who couldn't sleep. "You should get some rest."

"I could say the same to you." Trace leaned on the battlements, staring into the distance with his friend.

"You could, but I'm used to little sleep. I stay up late and rise early. You, on the other hand, get fussy when you don't have coffee when you wake up." Trace chuckled, shaking his head, but soon enough silence fell on them. A long time later, the silence broke with little more than a whisper. "I can't stand it."

"Stand what?"

"Knowing. Knowing that there will be a battle. Knowing that I'm going to fight. Knowing that I might not come out alive. Knowing that- …knowing that Flora might raise the child alone. Knowing that Zen might have to live without his sister. Knowing that any one of us might die. …knowing that if the battle turns ill, Haelith will be at risk." Tears rolled down his face as his voice broke. "I'm terrified. I know I shouldn't be, but I am. I know that we're going to fight together, but what if that's not enough? I know that we have a plan, but what if it fails?"

Trace could give no words of comfort. "I know. It's terrifying. If I told you it would be easy, I would be lying. If I told you it would be safe, I would be lying. But I can tell you this: it's going to be worth it. This is terrifying, scary, dangerous, and potentially deadly. But I've seen us overcome difficult odds before. And what's more is that I believe we can do it again."

"How can you be so confident? Last time, the Templars brought fourteen thousand, and while they only have twelve thousand now, that's more than enough to completely overwhelm us. What's more is that there were eight thousand defenders last time, and over three thousand were lost, with four thousand injured. No matter how you look at it, we're at a disadvantage in every aspect."

"Not every aspect. We have the Basitins, and they fight like nothing I've ever seen before. I'd take a hundred Basitins over five hundred humans any day. We are also defending. If they want to take us down, they have to reach us first. And lastly, we have you and the other Ishtaer. I've seen the looks on their faces. The very idea of the Templars finding victory makes them all the more determined to make that not a possibility."

"I suppose." Silence fell once again as the night grew dark.

Trace looked up to see the stars were veiled behind a thin layer of cloud. Standing tall, he put his hand on Barret's shoulder and smiled. "Come on. Let's go get some sleep."

Barret relaxed a bit, the very presence of his friend was calming. "You go ahead. I'm going to be a few more minutes. It's already summer, but the night is growing cold, which means wind will blow down from the mountains. On nights like this, if you can get up high enough to be over the trees, you can watch the wind like waves on the shore. Watch the leaves rustle and shake. It's… soothing. Relaxing." Trace hesitated for a second, wondering if he should stay with his friend. "Go on, go to sleep. I won't be long."

Barret watched as Trace walked down the gatehouse steps, before turning back to the forest. The leaves shifted and rustled in the gentle breeze, the trees creaking and groaning as the wood settled, but they were not the only reason he was awake still. Always on his belt, always by his side, always within reach, he pulled them out of the small bag. A trio of tempered scales that gleamed in the dim light of the stars, reflecting the inky sky above. They were more than a reminder of why he was alive still, they were a promise. He would see them again. It may be tomorrow or it may be a century from now, but he will see them again.