There was a time, there.

Short, fleeting... but I remember it.

Life was almost, dare I say it: "good."

Kepler eased up on us. The new "heroes" learned, and shared. They grew, and progressed. We all did, in some sense. Without the looming threat of a battle, we felt that we could finally breathe, if only for a little while.

People told their stories, and talked about what they wanted. What they might do if we ever left this place. If we ever were permitted to leave the mercenary company.

Mars and I found a good price on some ale that had found its way into camp, and we may have shared a cup.

Maybe, a little more than just a cup.

It was good.

I don't know if happy was the right word, but... content? Life was far from perfect, and none of us wanted to be where we were, but our little group wasn't so bad. We had each other's backs, in a way that I've found is rare, in life.

All I know, is that it was right.

And then, it wasn't.

Five days passed, before we awoke early to the sound of horns.

Horns, and Kepler screaming.

"Move! Move!" His voice shocked me awake, my hands scrambling for armor and gear. "Get up! Spears- take the spears! Take your gear! Take your pack! MOVE!"

Jones threw me a spear, as I went tumbling from the top bunk. Landing on my toes, my dagger was sheathed, my sword was soon ready at my hip. With the worn armor on my chest and back, arms and shins, all that was left was to grab my bag, and witness the chaos unfolding.

"We're under attack!" From outside the tent, someone shouted. "They've got Mages-"

A massive explosion cut the warning short, as the impact sent half of us sprawling. Where there had once been a tent wall, was now replaced by fire. Someone, I don't know who, was screaming in the flames.

"What's happening?"

"UP!" Kepler grabbed one of the newer members by the shirt, and threw them towards the front flaps. "Take what you can! We're moving!"

Heading outside, we found the camp was in complete disarray. Kepler lead the way, as people ran in every direction. Some soldiers were rushing towards fires, others were following officers- some with horses, towards what I assumed was a battle. Tents were on fire. In the air, above the camp, giant balls of flame were raining down. Each impact as they landed, shook the ground.

"MOVE!" Kepler's shout didn't allow for much time to consider what was happening, before we were in a quick jog. Several times, we were forced to turn, or redirect, as flames blocked our path through the tents, or smoke was too thick to breathe. Through the heat, the flames, the utter insanity unfolding around us: by the time we made it out of the camp itself, and onto the field where the fort was being constructed, we were exhausted. Ahead of us, I saw lines forming up. Spears and archers and horses, milling about in a panic as Captains shouted orders. Men atop the unfinished fort, launching arrows and spears down below.

"Ah, fuck." I remember hearing Kepler curse, as he looked up. "Shields- no, fuck it! Run! Just RUN!"

Looking up, I squinted at the sight. It was early Morning, with the sun just beginning to rise, and not a cloud in sight- yet I could see a shadow on the air. For all the falling orbs of fire, still following on their arcs towards camp, there were thousands of tiny specks. Little dots of black, blocking the deep blue.

Arrows.

Lots and lots of arrows.

Not good.

"Tactical withdrawal" is a fancy and polite way of saying one is retreating, but there was nothing fancy or polite about what Kepler had us doing- so I'll just call it something plainer:

Running for our fucking lives.

"I thought there wasn't supposed to be a battle for months!" I heard Jay shout. “You said months!”

"Do I really look like a bloody [Seer] to you?" Kepler answered. "Just fucking move!"

By the time the first arrows were landing, our Squad Leader had us turning around, and heading back into camp. Or, back into the flaming wreckage, that was camp. Behind us, I heard horrible "thumps" of shafts impacting the turf.

More horns were sounding. More tents were burning. More soldiers were running.

Nothing made sense, except that Kepler had pointed us in a direction, and we were following him. Someone tripped, another person disappeared, as a ball of flame smacked down- hard. Running and stumbling, we just did our best not to think about what was happening.

All there was to think about, was running.

Endurance +1

Seemed almost a mockery.

Emerging out on the other side of camp, we found ourselves quickly being pulled into lines. Ragged and exhausted- covered in ashes, dozens of Squads were crumpling together in a mishmash of spear lines. Behind them, archers and a decent number of trebuchet seemed to be rotating into place.

"We're fighting?" Mars coughed, as we fell into line. "Seriously?"

"Shut up." Kepler ordered, surveying the field.

There were more people trickling in, but not nearly as many as I would have hoped.

"We've still got most of the artillery." Someone suggested. "Could help."

"You've got to be joking." Mars growled. "They're shooting god-damn meteors at us. We should run."

Beside her, Jones nodded in agreement.

"If any of you run, they'll have you executed." Kepler growled back, turning to look over the rest of us. "Hell, they'll probably make me do it, too. So, shut up."

Another explosion sent a wave of dust into the air.

"This is bullshit." Mars muttered.

"Mars, for the last time." Kepler muttered back. "Either, the Commander issues a retreat, or not. So, shut-up."

We'd had to climb a slight incline, to take the field south of camp were our forces were apparently regrouping.

It wasn't a good scene.

Watching hundreds of tents burning, and a fort crumbling, with a clean line of sight to what was on the other side. There, the enemy army was marching forward, whatever resistance in front of them, cut down with ease. To say we were outnumbered, would have been a gross understatement.

What caught my attention the most, though, was the far back of their lines. Almost hidden, there, I saw flashes of light. Rising up, these soon brought more soaring orbs of flame to life.

"It's the Black Roses." Someone muttered. "Coalition finally sicked their bloody Mages on us."

"How'd they get here so quickly? Last I heard they were on the East, heading North."

"Our East retook the river, they must have marched them here, instead." Came the reply. "Our scouts did us dirty."

"Ah... We're right fucked, then."

"Aye." With that, came an uncomfortable number of additionally agreeing sentiments. "Right fucked."

An explosion rocked the hillside, leaving a smoldering crater fifty paces from where we stood. Several more followed, with impacts that were heavy enough to leave my ears ringing. along the line, a [Captain] on horseback came running.

"By her Generosity, the Commander has seen it fit that we retreat!" The Captain shouted, as he passed us.

"Thank fucking God." Mars whispered. "Let's go, already."

“Shut it.” Kepler whispered back.

"Hold your ground, until the signal is provided!" The Captain shouted. "The Scroll must be calibrated!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Means we get to live." Kepler replied, catching Mars' shoulder as she turned. "But you'd better not move." He looked over to the rest of us. "None of you: nobody moves."

"Why can't we just leave?"

"If you want to try and outrun an invading army, be my guest. But even if this fucks up, I'd personally rather take the scroll." Kepler muttered. "Count your blessings. They probably just didn't want the enemy getting the artillery here, after they finished murdered the lot of us."

On the ground around us, dust began to swirl and glow, as patterns emerged. Runes, not unlike the ones I had seen, carved into the floor of the palace. As they formed, links and connections branched outward beneath our feet. Scripts and letters spinning in a wilder, and wilder pace.

"What is this?"

"Linked Scroll. Old as shit, more expensive than I care to imagine." Kepler ordered. "Whatever you do, remember: don't move."

Another fire spell touched down, twenty feet away. I felt my skin prickle, smelled ozone and acrid smoke. In the air, there were more. One... ten... twenty-

"Oh fuck." Mars whispered.

"Do not move." Kepler raised his voice, turning to the rest of us. "Do not fucking move!" He shouted.

They began to land. First, farther down the hill, then closer, and closer. The ground was fire, sand and dirt were ripped asunder. All around us, grim-faces stared down the coming death.

The magic, the scroll- whatever it was working beneath out feet, swayed and shifted. Like ripples on the surface of a pond. Ink mixed, characters molded and blended together, reforming- only for another blast to shake them again. Looking up, I could see the next one approaching.

It was coming for me.

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Mars shouted. "What happens, then?"

"Just don't move!"

I could swear that I felt the embers burning. I could have sworn, they were close enough to touch my face, as the whole sky was swallowed up by one flaming ball of death, coming down to meet me.

In that instant, I wanted to run. I wanted to scream.

But, the runes beneath our feet had already taken to the air, they'd begun changing into something new.

Rapidly shifting, calculating, adjusting- burning as the falling spell of fire death crashed into them, and the fabric of reality was ripped away. I saw magic beyond any comprehension, saw time fragment and distort, while all I had known and seen, turned to grains of frozen glass raining down upon the black emptiness of the void.

Then, I remember nothing.

Nothing at all.

I suspect, for a time, I was truly lost.