Barret groaned as he stood up. He had managed to hobble over to a cot to lay on with Haelith's help, and had intended to rest. But he couldn't just sit there. He needed to do something. His hands needed work and his mind needed something to focus on. He looked down at his chest where only a few hours ago he had a dagger through his skin. Now though? It was nearly indistinguishable from the rest of his scales. Like humans and their fingernails or a Keidran with their claws, Ishtaer scales keep growing out, and scars never linger for long on the surface. But beneath his scales he could see his skin had scarred, which was particularly strange. Sighing, he began to walk aimlessly, surveying the wreckage of the battle. The fallen were already being collected in carts to be buried, the wounded were being cared for, but it was everything else that drew his gaze. The rooftops were peppered with bolts and arrows, small columns of smoke trailed up where fires had once burned, weapons lay scattered all over the place, and the stone streets were becoming stained with blood.

He hadn't even realized that he wandered all the way to the gatehouse, where he made his stand. The way had been partially cleared and there were people working to put up spikes where the gate had once stood, but it was still a mess. Slowly, he took in every detail, from the scratched and marred stone walls to the swords that lay scattered, abandoned or dropped. A thought came to his mind, and he began to look around for something specific. He had dropped his bow. Searching the ground, he didn't have to look far to find the end of a longbow beneath a shield. Smiling, he moved it aside, but his smile vanished as he beheld the splintered remains of his weapon. He reached down and picked up the drawstring. It was indeed his bow, the wood stretched and scratched from his own actions. But here he held the drawstring, limp and frayed, half of the limb was gone, trampled underfoot and destroyed. There would be no way to fix it.

It pained him to lose this weapon. It was not his first bow, but it was still special to him. He had carried it since Lyn'Knoll, and it had been by his side through so much. Across the Kedaria Mountains, up past Hatchet's Harbor, through the battle of Wenmoor and all the way back to Edinmire, it was the one thing that he knew he could count on, and it was the gift that reminded him of what he still had. Sure, it may have been stolen, but Zen is the one who gave him this bow. It was among one of the first gifts he had gotten in years. And now it was shattered and broken.

He was still kneeling there with the broken bow when he saw them approaching. Trace, Keith, Natani, Raine, Richard, the King and Duke, as well as a large cluster of other soldiers. They were on edge, and the King carried something large… no… someone. Frowning, Barret stood up, still holding his broken bow. "What happened? And who's that?"

Trace pulled Barret aside as the company walked past. "Stay alert." Trace whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "We found clay pikes. Clay armor. Clay arms and legs. The Templars were ambushed by Sentinels."

"Sentinels? Here? How? Why?"

"Not so loud!" He gritted his teeth, and then sighed. "We don't know. This gave us more questions than answers. We went and found a slaughter, a massacre. This is the only survivor, and he's in bad shape. We hope that he can tell us more, assuming he makes it."

"Why so secretive then? Why not just tell people what happened?"

"Because as far as anyone knows, the Sentinels aren't this strong. Sure, they have been moving in larger numbers recently, but never like this. This much destruction, this much death? There must have been hundreds for this sort of attack, maybe even more."

Barret frowned and leaned against the gatehouse wall. "Hundreds… I didn't even think there were that many left."

"Not only that, but to attack the Templar army? Why? What could have caused them to do that? Was that their target, or would they have gone somewhere else? How were they able to slip in unnoticed? Will they attack again, and if so, how soon? Like I said, more questions than answers, and until we get answers, I'd rather not incite a panic. We're already running around in the dark, we can't afford to have everyone lose focus or abandon us. So for now, this stays between us." Barret folded his arms, thinking and wondering. Trace decided it would be better to change the subject. "What's that?"

Holding up the remains of his bow, Barret reminisced. "All that's left of my bow. It went with me across half of Mekkan, only to finally be broken here. It was the only thing I could always count on to be by my side, the only thing I could rely on for so long. It was a gift from Zen, remember?"

"After we fought our way out of Lyn'Knoll, I remember. Sure, it has sentiment, but I'm certain you can find another bow." Trace smirked, but Barret frowned.

"Another bow? Easily. Another bow my size? I doubt it. I'm too tall. Most people won't make bows this large. Finding one like this was a stroke of luck." Trace stared at the bow. He hadn't realized just how much it had been through, and yet it was so well used it was insane. Barret was right. In only a few months it had done so much and been by his side so much it was now strange to see him without it. But then Trace smirked as a thought ran through his head.

"Maybe this was Fate." Barret glanced at him, confused. "Maybe it's time to move away from the bow. It's not your only weapon anymore."

Barret nodded, still looking at the splintered wood. "I know, but this is more than just a weapon. This is a tool, a job, a way to sustain myself, a way to provide. Like how a blacksmith needs a hammer, I can't survive without a bow. But you are right. Maybe… maybe it's time for a change." He closed his eyes, clenching his fist tightly, before letting the bow fall to the ground. Sighing, he stood upright, but still stared at the remains on the ground. He then frowned and turned to Trace. "Where is my… feels strange to say that… where is my glaive?"

"Keith picked it up while we carried you." Looking over his shoulder, Trace scowled. "Come on, let's go. I'm sure Keiren will want to talk with you about what we found."

…

Keiren sat in the corner of the room, watching the Basidian doctor work. After catching Barret up with what they had really found, no one was entirely sure what to do next. The realization that these ancient soldiers were not just stagnant and solitary, but actively hostile had shaken them. There were questions, so many questions that no one had answers to. No one, that is, but the Templar who had survived. And so, they waited. For seven hours they had waited, with five different doctors working on his wounds, trying desperately to keep him alive. And yet the man had yet to wake or even stir. He was alive still, his slow and haggard breathing a sign that he was still in the land of the living, but only just.

King Adelaide waited just beyond the door, as did Trace and Richard. There was nothing to do but wait. They tried to hide their anxiety behind the covers of books and the gentle scratching of pen on paper, but anyone could see through their facade. They were shaken to the core by what they had seen. Battle was not new to them, but the senseless slaughter was sickening. Barret sat at the table in the main room next to Haelith, wishing he could hide his own fear more, while she tried her best to keep everyone calm. Keith and Natani sat across the table from them, coffee cups in hand, equally shaken. Natani had never quite recovered from the shock of Zen's injury, and seeing the things that nearly killed him, knowing that they were still very active and very much a threat made her stressed beyond belief. Her fur was drained of color and her eyes were unfocused.

Raine wrung her hair, a habit she had from when she was very young whenever she was anxious. She had not shapeshifted on accident in so long, but it felt like if she got any more stressed, there was no way she would be able to control herself or her magic. Standing near the window, she stared at the column of smoke that rose from beyond the walls, the thick black fumes blocking out the sunset and casting a shadow on the world. As she stood there, a cup of coffee was set down on the sill next to her. "I've not seen a group this stressed out in a long time." Adira said, leaning against the window frame. "I heard what you found out there, and I'm not sure I understand all the fuss. These… Sentinels… if they come back, we could hold them off, right?"

Raine stared into her coffee, the deep brown liquid reflecting the pillar of smoke. "I… don't know. I've seen them fight only once before. The one we fought overwhelmed Barret, and it would have killed him if Eris hadn't stepped in."

"But that was one against one on flat ground. Surely we would have the advantage of being on the defense, right?"

"I don't know. All I know is that they are dangerous. They are powerful, they are strong, and apparently they are numerous. Even one was able to break through Barret's magic shield, who knows what hundreds could do?"

Adira sipped her coffee, and stared out the window with her in silence for several minutes. "The sunset is rather pretty, isn't it?"

The question caught Raine off guard, and she turned her eyes to the sky, where the sun reflected off the smoke. "I suppose. But I know that's not a normal cloud out there."

"Sure, but sometimes you need to step back. Stop worrying so much about things you can't change." Adira gently smiled and put a hand on Raine's shoulder. "Fate will be what it will be. Fate can't be changed, no matter how hard we may try. Sure, we have our choices, but in the end it will be what it will be."

Raine couldn't bear to look at her. "I guess." She knew all too well that she was able to change things. She knew that she had the power to do so. "I just feel helpless standing here."

"You and me, and everyone else here. But until we know more, there really is nothing to do, and we won't know more until that young man wakes up. Go get some sleep honey. You look like you need it." Adira gave a dry chuckle as she looked at everyone else. "Seriously, go get some rest, all of you. You've been up since well before dawn getting ready for battle. Go sleep."