As was standard military practice, even on Mannemid, the mages were exempt from guard duty. But that night, Xerxes figured he might as well have volunteered to stand guard. He couldn’t sleep.

For the two hours or so, he lay in his tent feeling hot and uncomfortable. Despite the threat of rain, about half the company wasn’t even using tents, and now he wished he’d done the same. All the while, he wondered when the Abhorrent would attack. Not if they would attack. When. That was how these situations always played out, wasn’t it?

At one point, he fell asleep only to jerk out of slumber when he heard shouting. Grabbing his longsword, he lurched out of his tent expecting to see fire and blood. But after looking around wildly, he realized things were too calm for an attack. He peered into the sky, expecting to see streaks of light through the patchy clouds. He saw none.

Apparently, a tent among the Unsighted officers had collapsed.

He wasn’t the only one who had jumped out ready for a fight. Half the mages were either out of their tents, or sticking their heads out of the flaps. Numerous officers and dozens of soldiers were standing with shields in hands and weapons at the ready.

After confirming there was no situation, Xerxes crawled back into his tent and closed his eyes. Every noise in the camp made him more alert. After another hour or two, he gave up trying to sleep and walked in the direction of the watchtower.

There was a Unit One soldier at the bottom of the tower, a burly fellow with curly hair. He nodded in greeting and said, “First Lieutenant.”

“Private Mazlauwa,” Xerxes said in response. “Mind if I go up and have a look around?”

“Go right on ahead. Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah.” He put his hand on the makeshift ladder and started climbing.

There were two soldiers in the watchtower, both from Unit Fourteen.

“Evening, First Lieutenant,” one of them said as he crawled onto the platform. “Or rather, g’morning.”

“It’s past midnight already?” he said. “Figures. Couldn’t sleep.”

The other soldier chuckled. “You’re not the only one.”

Xerxes scanned the camp, and could see what the soldier meant. There was a lot more movement than was to be expected from a midnight camp. More people about. Groups huddled around campfires when they would normally be sleeping.

He looked up. As before, the sky was clear of any streaks of light.

Xerxes leaned on the railing and peered out at the lands beyond the camp. The moon and stars provided some illumination, but not much, especially given the clouds. Xerxes felt a wave of deja vu. Why did this feel so familiar?

Then he placed it. He felt the same way he did back on Mannemid, when he went out onto the battlements to look at the city, only to catch sight of the enormous meteor slowly tumbling from the sky.

He looked for the third time.

There was no massive, flaming rock falling toward them.

After about ten minutes in the watchtower, his eyes started feeling prickly, so he climbed back down and tried to sleep again.

Just as exhaustion was about to drag him into slumber, he heard a noise. He opened his eyes. Had someone just shouted?

He stuck his head out of the tent.

Nothing.

He lay back down. This time, sleep started to take him within only a few minutes. Until he heard another sound. Or at least, he thought he did. Instead of looking outside the tent, he just remained in place.

If there’s an attack, they’ll sound the alarm.

He was dreaming. He and Katayoun were strolling through Harborview in the capital on Mannemid. He took her to Shellburn lane to buy a bowl of fish soup, the kind he loved when he was a kid. But instead of the old lady who sold the soup, it was Archon Shabadras, cloaked and masked. He started talking, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of a ringing bell.

Xerxes’ eyes snapped open. It was still dark.

He heard a sound. A shout?

Then the clang of a bell.

More shouting.

He was already jumping out into the open, sword in hand.

Soldiers and mages alike were tumbling from tents. Where were the Abhorrent?

He didn’t see any.

“Enemy to the north!” came a shout from the watchtower.

“Units One, Two, Three, and Seven to the north mound,” Gandash yelled. He continued shouting more orders. Xerxes, being the First Lieutenant of Unit One, was already running to the north.

A few Unsighted troops were there when he arrived. He climbed the dirt and looked past the wooden stakes.

“Fuck,” a soldier next to him muttered.

What looked to be a few hundred pale, spider-like Abhorrent scuttled across the landscape in their direction. He identified only four or five large ones with maroon ‘faces.’

“I’ve fought this kind before,” Xerxes said. “They die easily.”

“Javelins ready,” shouted Sergeant Rostam of Unit Seven.

“Shields up and spears forward,” Sergeant Stratos yelled.

Xerxes wished he could do more. But the spells he knew related to short-range melee combat only. It wasn’t until the Mystic Level that Asgagu mages could cast augmentations that didn’t require a physical connection. For instance, arrows or javelins. Neither Seers nor High Seers were much help when it came to ranged combat.

Regardless, given his experience fighting this spider-like Abhorrent, he wasn’t very worried about them. What did worry him was that these were mere spawns. Would they be accompanied by juveniles? Given how fast the juveniles were, if they joined the fight, they could be on the troops before anyone had any idea what was happening.

Javelins and arrows speared the first of the wave of spidery foes. After that, the sharpened wooden stakes did their job, further impeding the monsters’ advance.

The entire time, Xerxes waited with his sword on his shoulder and his component pouch ready.

A bell pierced the night, followed by a shout from the watchtower. “Abhorrent to the west!”