The first real battle came on a Thursday.
I knew it was Thursday because Elara had mentioned the supply delivery that only happened on Thursdays while setting out breakfast. I had stored the details without knowing why.
Cold bit through the window. Low clouds muffled the wind into something thick and heavy.
Two hours after breakfast, Evan appeared at my door, already in full battle kit. The small weight shifts in his steps told me everything—extra blades, reinforced plates, contingencies packed tight.
“Now?” I asked.
“Eastern flank made contact thirty minutes ago. Victor’s moving the main force up. We’re thirty minutes behind.” He paused. “Forward position is a converted farmhouse, eight hundred meters from the active line. Infirmary setup.”
I picked up the kit Elara had helped
