64
Firian
Firian woke gasping. Reality refused to spiral into focus, but his heart still beat with panic. He hauled himself up on one elbow, panting out breaths as he tried to remember what was a dream and what was really happening.
A soft crackling sound guttered outside. Too slowly, his eyes adjusted and he saw orange shadows crawling like phantoms over his tent. He staggered upright and ran outside. The camp was abandoned. The farms were on fire. He ran to the edge of the fields, scanning the tree line for the person who had acted against his orders. What was going on?
The drink. Belik had sent him a drink. There was no way Firian would have slept through a moving army, even one as silent as Tanyu could be, and setting the outer edge ablaze. This sleep was induced, forced on him by
