Farren sat bolt upright so fast her head spun.

Around her, the dormitory was pitch dark and outside, the night was filled with the clacking of boots and several voices shouting; from the chaos it was hard to discern what had really happened.

"Did someone blow up the kitchen or what?" said a half-asleep Klo from below.

"I'm right here," said Farren, and somehow, that seemed to answer the question.

For a moment Farren sat in the dark, trapped in an abyss of clamour, before she leaned over the side of her bed to light a candle. Heavy footsteps sounded in the dark as others in the dorm began to leave their beds to go investigate. Amongst their hushed tones the word Firemount was tossed back and forth a few times.

Before Farren could place the lit candle onto the high shelf, Klo kicked off her blankets and jumped out of the lower bunk; the movement so sudden her head collided with Farren's hand, sending the candle spinning from her hands and onto the bedclothes.

A shriek left her as Farren swatted it away, along with it went all the contents on the shelf--the unopened package and all--which flew in admirable arcs and wedged themselves in the gap between the wall and headboard.

Although she managed to avoid setting herself and the bed on fire, a number of her possessions were now stuck in the narrow gap between the bunk bed and the wall, which would be rather hard to retrieve.

"Slow down, damn you!" said Farren, trying to pull on her cloak.

"No time, come on," said Klo, dragging her out the door before she could wiggle her way into the cloak, and stepped outside.

Black-clad soldiers bustled about, their crimson eyes luminous in the dark.

Patrollers and night archers --vampires from Valston city who served in the Midaelian army --were in charge of the camp during the night. They had their own commander, light and heavy infantry collectively known as patrollers, and vampire bowmen called night archers.

The explosion earlier was not in the camp, it turned out. Rather, it was down at the village.

"Active Firemount, to the south east!" declared a night archer from the top of the watchtower.

"Yeah, figured as much," muttered Klo beside Farren, her hand coming to rest on the pommel of her broadsword.

✦✧✦✧

There were many reasons for one to fear the Drisians.

The biggest, in truth, would be their direct involvement in the Great War. It had left its traces lingering all over Stormvale like dried blood, the law of restriction of magic was its purest form, for it sprung from a place of fear for all things sorcerous.

But that was what only scholars and historians would say.

The Firemounts were what the common folk dreaded, those devastating siege weapons that would wreck their homes and sear their flesh.

And the very presence of a Firemount tonight confirmed that the attackers were none other than Drisian soldiers. They couldn't have been looters or bandits, Farren was certain. Common thugs don't go lugging around weapons like that.

On all sides, dust flew as squads filed out of the barracks, their sergeants in the lead. Once again it was time for them to defend Kinallen. Heavy chains and gears creaked and groaned as they raised the wooden gates.

Farren barely had time to go fetch her axe. Hastily she donned her armour; chainmail and sturdy leather doublet with the blue cloak of their uniform thrown over the shoulders. She strapped on her spiked helm.

A few dozen paces out of the camp, Rendarr and Karles joined them.

"Any idea how they got past the patrollers?" Farren asked as they strode down the winding path down the hill.

"Yes, actually," said Karles, unslinging his bow, "the time gap between the change of shifts. Second lieutenant is certain that's when the bastards sneaked in."

--"That's right, lad. Now we sneak up on 'em."

Karles nearly tripped over as the second lieutenant appeared right beside him the next moment, soundless and sudden as a ghost.

Second Lieutenant Audryn, sharp faced and tall, with close cropped dark hair, the very same who had assigned them the duty of fetching water that morning, was also the woman to whose ruthless training Farren owed all her skills with the axe.

But what Audryn truly excelled at was not wielding axes, but punishment and discipline. Sending non-compliant recruits to the wood chopping blocks was by far her favourite punishment.

Farren was so well behaved and extraordinarily obedient when she first arrived in Kinallen, she had learned naught but chopping firewood in the first two months of training.

✦✧✦✧

"Wolturs," Second Lieutenant Audryn said to Klo, "after me, with your squad. We take out the ones manning the Firemount."

And with that, the second lieutenant extricated herself from the train of soldiers heading down to the village and darted among the trees; Klo, Farren and Rendarr on her trail with the rest of the squad.

On scurried the squad through the woods, with naught but the stars to light their way. But that proved not too great a problem, for the soldiers knew these woods like the back of their hands; the countless trips they had to make to fetch water and collect firewood made sure of that.

Farren sped up to keep pace with Klo and the second lieutenant.

"The position of the enemy, Corporal Clearstrike?"

Farren's heart did a backflip every time Audryn called her name, as though she were still a new recruit. "South east, ma'am!"

"How far south east are we talking? All the way to the coast?" Audryn's voice rang sharp like ice shards.

Klo came to Farren's rescue, as always. "Near the south gate of the village. Some five hundred paces far; cannot be more because that's about the range of firemounts," she muttered to Farren everything she'd heard from the patrollers. But nothing escaped Audryn's ears.

"In battle, you keep your eyes and ears open. And be specific. No place for vague hand gestures," she said, not turning. "How about you tell that to your corporal, Wolturs?"

Feeling her ears growing hot, Farren wondered how the second lieutenant managed to keep her cool well enough to question and test her soldiers, as though they were merely taking a leisurely stroll through the forest.

A short trek took them to the edge of the woods where it touched the south end of Kinallen, so that they were right behind the Drisian soldiers operating the firemount. Bobbing torchlights came into view near the gate.

There, propped upon wooden wheels, stood the Firemount. Its long metal snout faced the south gate of Kinallen, which had gone up in flames.

From the diagrams that Farren had seen hanging around one room at the academy back at Byton, the closest comparison she could come up with for a Firemount would be the catapult; at least in terms of its function. But the sorcery-crafted explosive projectiles it hurled, which destroyed everything it touched, were still largely a mystery to the Midaelians.

"Clearstrike, with me," muttered Audryn, hands gripping her double bladed axe as they spread out in silence behind the Drisians manning the firemount. Farren readied her battle axe as well, mirroring the stance of the second lieutenant.

Even as they charged, one of the torches dipped low to light the fuse and another firing pierced the night air.

Farren lunged forward, right at the Drisian man who had just finished lighting the fuse; though her initial aim had been the head, her axe plunged deep into his shoulder as the man turned at the very last second. Her force was such, the blade severed links of his chainmail, sliced through flesh, and shattered bone. The man's scream died in his throat.

The merry woman who had but hours ago fooled around and drunk to her fill at the inn was no more. A cold blooded fighter took her place, one that had struck a deal with a dark God, one who felt no pain and delivered the strength of two in the swings of her axe.

The attackers hit the dirt like felled trees.

Hot blood splattered to her side as Audryn hacked another's head clean off the shoulder. Looking at Farren's kill, she gave her a half smile and a nod.

Coming from the second lieutenant, it was the equal of an affectionate ruffling of her hair and a warmly uttered, "not bad, lass."

Leather gloved fingers snug around her axe handle, Farren charged once again. Even with the chaos breaking out around them, Farren felt at peace. She had not been a complete disappointment after all.

She was making herself useful.

Audryn had been the drill sergeant in whose hands Lieutenant Evander had placed her after her enrollment, which had more to do with the delinquent youth's lack of discipline than her poor skills with the sword. Hence she had trained Farren to wield the axe, that being more about brute strength than technique.

Yet even that had proven difficult for her.

Farren had once been weak. Her swings and blows were not strong enough. She was not strong enough. She cried too easily; felt too much pain.

Then one day, things changed. Or rather, Farren changed things.

✦✧✦✧

As their onslaught continued with clashing of blades against shields and armour, the attackers manning the firemount dwindled into nothing in a matter of a quarter hour. Now was the time to strike down the others still plundering the village. They needed to assist the partollers engaged in combat with the rest of the Drisians.

"Pass me the torch, will you?" Farren heard Klo say. She found one of the torches the Drisian soldiers had been using for the firemount and made her way to her.

Klo was crouching on the ground, shifting a battered shield to one side to have a look at one of fallen attackers. The second lieutenant had paused too, a frown creasing her forehead.

"What do you see, Wolturs?" asked Audryn.

The firelight shone upon the mangled corpse. The man was not a Drisian soldier, but a bandit. Instead of the army issue pale green cloaks they usually donned, the man was clad in rough furs and leather.

"Had my suspicions from the way they swung their swords. Too tactless for a proper, trained Drisian soldier," said Klo, "but couldn't be sure because of the dark. Well, now you see."

Audryn made her way over to crouch beside Klo. Her expression darkened.

"Rhilio's mercy," she said quietly, "how the hell did these looters acquire a goddamn Firemount?"