The woman who looked after my ankle looked at me pitifully. As if she wasn't going through the same thing as me. But she was right. Nilfgaard had taken so much from us with this war. And they would tear away everything we still had. This war was not our fault. We hadn't made the decisions that had led to it. And yet we were the ones who suffered the worst from it. Those who were responsible for this war had their castles to hide in. Their armies to fight for them. Their supplies that could have fed everyone who fled for months. And they didn't care about us.

"So now it should be better."

A slight smile played around the woman's lips. It was not an all will be well smile and not a the world will get better smile. It was more of a the world is a dark place but there are always bright spots smile. I smiled back and left the tent where she was healing the wounded.

As I left the tent, I saw a group of about 20 people. I didn't know them. They wore clothes that were too clean and neat for them to have escaped from anywhere. There was no dirt or scratches on their skin. Not even their hair was messy. The longer I looked at these people, the more certain I was that they were the magicians. I had thought there would be more. 20 of them against a whole army. Mages were powerful, but they weren't that powerful either. Nilfgaard had mages too, and without the kings of the north and their army, we were as good as dead.

Before I knew it, the preparations for the battle had begun. I helped a few others to make arrows from sticks we had found in the forest. There weren't many, but better a few than none, I thought as I carved a notch for the tip of the arrow. I still looked at the mages with a thoughtful expression on my face.

"You don't think they can save us either, do you?"

I looked up from the arrow and gazed into the gray eyes of the boy we had escaped with. So he could talk after all.

"They are powerful but so...few."

He looked at me in thought.

"Do you really think Nilfgaard will let anything stop him? Whether twenty or a thousand, Nilfgaard wants the whole continent and we are all the price."

"We have a chance. Nilfgaard is expecting a few people who have fled, not mages. If we take advantage of that."

He smiled at me and then looked at his arrow again. Without moving a hand, a notch carved itself into the wood and the point attached itself.

"You are a mage."

It was simply an statement on my own behalf.

"So are you. I've seen you heal your sister's wounds."

An idea spread through me.

"What if we fight?"

"Do you want to die?"

"I'd rather die trying to protect the ones I love than hide in some corner. And who said we had to die?"