On the white stone streets of the city-nation of Erraat soldiers in kozane armor marched in somber procession. Their steps and counties were solid and resolute. Knight General Danno Higa led the precession from high atop his horse. A mount adored in glistening plate and veteran of wars past. It strutted with pride as if this parade was for its honor alone.

People of every class lined the sides of the wide streets. Rich merchants and beggars stood side by side to cast flowers before the soldiers. Only the nobles were not present. Not a single one bothered to look down from their plateau.

Some ways away from the guild Aerith stood with Tim amongst the throng. Steady meals and nutritional potions had put her on the path to recovery. Today she held a single white flower; the tear of Ammond. It’s petals as fragile and clear as glass. It seemed at home in hands just as delicate. Despite the value of the precious bud, no one moved to take it. Instead, it brought tears of sympathy for this great gift. Surely, someone, they loved is on the march.

People wept and praised the soldiers as they passed by. A rainbow of flower offerings ground under their boots. As the knight general passed by Aerith case the perfect bloom before him. The petals dashed against the stone roadway. The war steed’s hoof came down. A spider’s work of cracks spread and the world shattered.

Deep and reverberating concussions struck Tim in his stomach. To the south, a series of booms shoot the air. The parade halted as every head turned. Somewhere in the distant swamp, unnavigable by people, a fire burned. The demon army breached the city’s only weak point.

It would be a long hard uphill battle for the demons, even with their amazing strength. But at the same time, their choice was quite reasonable. The unscaleable and jagged cliff walls that otherwise encircled the city would take too long to conquer.

Aerith gripped Tim’s hand tight as he stoically looked out to the distance. Words caught in his mouth, but the knight general found them

“To war!” he rallied his men, “Second and third cavalry, lead the charge! Mage artillery to the front! Defend! Defend! Defend the people of Erraat!”

Tim covered his ears as the trumpeter relayed instructions. It was as if the blast from the signal horn was a response to the demons explosions as notes reverberated through the basin. People scattered as squads of mounted soldiers thundered by. Tim grabbed Aerith’s hand and ran. Panic had taken root and the crush of people fled.

Down through the side streets they fled, trying to escape the human stampede. In a nearby alcove, Tim pulled Aerith in and shaped the wall around them. In that dark tight space, they heard tumultuous footsteps pass by. But the screams and panic of the outside were drowned out by the beating of their hearts. Outside the city was in chaos, but inside that confined space there was only two. They kissed for the first, and possibly last, time.

They didn’t know what the future might hold. Tim might have the strength and strategy to change things, but he was trapped under the heal of the guild. They didn’t care and only embraced the moment as they did each other. Too soon the tumult passed and they were left blushing in the dark. Tim restored the wall and light crashed over them. The hurried off, still holding hands, although it would be some time before they could look each other in the eye.

Chaos, in its predictable way, enveloped Erraat. Two stones, hand in hand, moved against the current. They walked until Aerith grew faint and Tim carried her. Under the shade of Tim’s favorite tree at the edge of the guild training grounds they rested. Aerith had only recovered a little and was still quite weak. Tim instructed her to stay while he went to get something and she lay back against the tree.

As her strength was returning so did Tim. He carried a sack with some food in it and a strange box under his arm. Aerith ate fruit as Tim attached a curved horn to the box. Then he opened the lid and put in his phone. Tim smiled at Aerith’s surprise as sweet melodies came from the horn. They leaned together and munched on snacks. Classical music played to the punctuation of magical artillery in the distance.

Tim brushed the crumbs and concerns aside as he stood and offered his hand. “I don’t know what will happen with the guild. Or how long we can keep seeing each other. So, for this moment, will you dance with me?”

Aerith knew that his unique status might lead to difficulties in the future. Her own future was struggle enough. But he still took his hand. With shaky legs, she got to her feet then looked away. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Me either.”

The fire burned in the swamp to the south. Bombardments of magical artillery rained down from the guard posts in the cliff walls. Screams and scurrying echoed along the white stone streets of Erraat. But they did not care. They held each other close and swayed to the music.

A part of Tim’s mind was always working away in his subconscious, fighting to find a way home. Tim never realized, but for a moment that little struggle suddenly went silent. Albeit, just for a moment.

As the second song ended so did Aerith's stamina. As they parted their embrace the bell in the guild tower began to gong. Everyone in the city knew what that sound meant. And those with the wherewithal to think clearly wondered why it hadn’t sounded earlier. It was a call to action for all guild employees. And a summons for every adventurer. Failure to respond could meet with sanctions and a loss of livelihood. Even noncombatants would be assigned supporting tasks. For Tim, this meant an end to his brief vacation.

One more hug and Tim parted with the teary Aerith. He took out his phone and shaped the books back into a simple lump of wood. Then he headed off to the Enchantment Division. He must have been getting used to living in this world as he was no longer winded after six flights of stairs. The first one in Tim took a seat at his desk, and then fidgeted as he awaited the others. The clock ticked by. He pulled out his phone. No new messages from the others.

It had been four days since they were sent to engage the demons in guerilla hit and run tactics. Maybe that’s why they attacked from the south. Maybe they meant the army head-on or couldn’t d find them because of the changed locations. Maybe they are in chase. Tim wondered and worried about the other off-worlders.

Slowly the others trickled in. They talked quietly amongst themselves with downcast eyes. Last in was manager Murata who walked heavily up the stairs and pulled Hoban along by his pointed ear. She shoved the elf to his desk then announced to the room.

“Weapon and armor enchantments are a priority until further notice. We’re also going back to mandatory overtime until further notice. Tim, come to my office immediately.” Her plump neck swiveled then did the rest of her as she tottered off. Her heavy footsteps shook the beams like thunder in the still room.

As Tim stepped into the manager’s office she slammed the door shut behind him. Then she smacked the back of his head. “You dumb bastard. Just when I was starting to like you, you’ve done and screwed yourself.”

“What did I do?” Tim asked while rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh, nothing really. You just wrote a report outlining the method for enchanters to overcharge spell effects.”

“Sorry I didn’t give you co-credit. I needed the money to…”

She slapped him again, hard enough to leave a red welt against his cheek.

“It’s not about the money you fool! The report is now public record and someone described it to the Emperor. Since you are the only one who can do this, the emperor has demanded that you upgrade the mobile magic artillery.”

“What?”

“You’ve got two hours. Then you’re headed to the front lines. You didn’t surrender yourself to the Empire, and now they’ve found a way to kill you.” Murata sighed and her chair squealed in agony as she plopped down. “Is there anything I can get for you? Maybe some armor?”

Tim rubbed his burning cheek, and then after a long pause said: “I want you to send three letters and secure my room in the barracks.”

“That’s all? Then you have my word it will be done. So what are you waiting for? Move!”

Tim ran from the office and headed for the stairs. He gave an apologetic look to Hoban as he dashed down the stairs. Back in his room, he shoved some personal belonging s into his backpack. Then he settled down at his desk and sent a text message to the others, which they might get upon return. He hastily wrote three letters, to Aerith, Hoban, and Makko, and sealed them with wax.