The alarm rose. Frantic people scattered about the streets of Jovin City. Off in the distance, clear as day, figures on horses darkened the horizon.

  The citizens of the city were given two choices: run and hide, or stay and fight. Although many chose to run, there were those brave few who chose to stay. Melwin of Justicar stayed, as did Lord Seldam of Jovin City.

  Within the hour, everyone was on the ready. Maybe several thousand soldiers stood at the front ranks, guarding docks. Several more hundreds stood on top the roofs, bows drawn and pointed at the enemy.

  Jovin City had the Jovin River running through it, the largest river system in all of Agnius. Throughout the country, that river system split and branched off in different directions, but it always came back to the base, the main Jovin River, which also served as a moat for Jovin City. An island impossible to travel to by land stood easier to defend.

  The sun was rising, its light slowly rising above the horizon. Their arrival had come quicker than anyone could expect, and the only plausible reason for that was the entirety of the Agnian army chose to travel by boat to the city.

  Many sturdy boats littered the river, its wood darkening the surface. Their horses rested on top of their boats, standing proud and magnificent, each one adorned with iron. How rich was the kingdom to send thousands of soldiers, all with their own horses, and each horse with their own armor.

  The intel that Jovin City received was that only De’Shai could be present. Some of the citizens wanted to see that man dead. Some wished that the other Ministers could come as well, but Lord De’Shai only borrowed armies from the other two.

  Nervous soldiers lined the front, some with spears and shields, some with swords and shields, and some with two swords, depending on what kind of fighting style they preferred. Bows were drawn, waiting patiently for the signal from their direct superior.

  The other side of the battle knew of the city’s treachery. They knew peace wouldn’t be an option. They knew bloodshed was the only solution, and many of them were ready to lay down their lives. The dawn of the raid on Jovin City has arrived.

  Lord Seldam sat in his chair, chin resting on his knuckles. On his table a lone sword sat, a sword which has collected dust through the years of not being used. That was going to change today. He didn’t know how long it’s been since he’d been a warrior of any army. Now he was going to fight for his.

  He stood up, wrapped a firm grip around the hilt of his sword and plunged the blade into the sheath which lay at his belt. He walked over to the wall where his armor was mounted, an armor set that has not seen the light of battle in as much time as his sword.

  To his side, a servant stood, ready to aid him in dawning his armor once again.

  When the armor was on him for the first time in ages, he could feel the memories surging through him of a battlefield long past by. The scent of blood, the screams of pain, the sight of bodies toppling over one another.

  And he had brought his town, his people, into this.

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  Galvin, you son of a sword, you better come through for us. He couldn’t help but whisper prayers to the god of the land, Agnius. Then again, it was said god that put a king like Rai’Shal in rule in the first place, so he quickly retracted his prayers.

  Throughout the week, he often wondered if the king had come to the battlefield himself, or had he remained holed up in Rathalin.

  “Ficher,” Seldam called the name of his servant.

  “Yes, my lord?” his servant replied.

  “I thank you for being in my service for so long, but I fear this is where we part ways. Leave the town. I don’t want you guys caught up in this.”

  Ficher shook his head. “No can do, sire. When I made the pledge to serve your household, I meant it. I will not let you see this battle on your own.”

  Seldam glances over and saw Ficher with knives around his belt and several long daggers in his hands. Beneath the servant’s uniform, Seldam could see a tint of a cloth attire, which allowed for great mobility.

  Lord Seldam had hand picked his servant with great care, ensuring they had a certain set of skills that allowed them to protect his family. His servants would be better served in the country side, serving as a caravan for his wife and children. He had at least six of these trained people protecting them, but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough.

  He sighed. “Alright then,” Seldam said.

  Ficher bowed. “Your wish is my command, my lord. Just tell me what to do and I will see to it that it’s done.”

  “I want you to carry a message to the generals within the city. Have them be on the defensive. Our goal here is not to obliterate the enemy. Our goal is one of attrition, to hold them out for enough time.”

  Ficher gave a bow before retreating out of the room.

  Seldam, in his full set of armor and sword by his side, he strode back to his chair, and he sat in it, resuming his previous position. He knew one thing: if the commander Rai’Shal sent has any sense, then the first place the army would go to would be his palace. And he will sit there and be ready for them.

  Galvin stood on the outskirts of Rathalin, stranding and waiting. According to the meetings with Kaden, the forces were spread thin. Ever since the army mobilized a week and some days ago, most of the guards have had to pull doubles. Just as he’d wanted.

  Now, it would be a lot easier to get into the city with the guards exhausted. He Absorbed in some emerald and let out a breath. He wasn’t going to go for De’Shai or any of the other Ministers. He had one goal and one goal alone. Cut off the head of the worm so another one couldn’t sprout.

  He focused on Wind and propelled himself forward to the city, landing on top of the high cobblestone walls.

  The city still looked the same as when he left it. And it didn’t at the same time. It felt more intimidating.

  He scanned over the city, using some sapphire essence to enhance his senses. Kaden sure wasn’t lying to him. The guards appeared much more scarce. His eyes kept scanning up the road until it fell onto the palace which stood at the middle of the town, with its spires pointing upward and reaching towards the clouds and its windows tinted with dark colors, and the walls made of a brick colored dark green. Somewhere within that massive building was Rai’Shal, his target.

  Without another thought, he used some more Wind and propelled himself forward.