Reza gazed into the inky darkness beyond the city, his mind racing with recent events. A hint of concern crossed his face as he clung tightly to the wall’s edge, feeling the intricate runes etched deep into the stones beneath. Just yesterday, one of the nine towers had gone dark for the first time in over a decade, yet it felt like an eternity. The unforgiving, moonless night had been the longest of his life; second by second, Reza endured, waiting for the enemy to emerge and for the fear to subside within the city.

  But it had not. As soon as the Arkenites had seen the tower, chaos erupted around the forum. Citizens screamed and frantically attempted to escape the island, seeking refuge and safety. Reza, recognizing the urgency of reporting to the city guard’s primary training ground, maintained his composure. Drawing upon his wraith, he managed to navigate through the chaos on the island, hoping to locate any other military officers or guards who could provide insights into the unfolding crisis.

  Thankfully, the response was swift. The ten families called upon every soldier within the city to guard the wall until answers were found. Consequently, Reza, an Optio and thus an officer, was abruptly pulled from his peaceful leave and joined the other soldiers on the wall.

  As an Optio, Reza was automatically one of the few individuals entrusted with a section of the wall to guard and a small group of soldiers to command.

  Uncertain about the duration of the crisis and the potential length of his deployment, he secured a willing messenger to deliver a message to his sisters for a king’s ransom. The messenger, who was several gold ghouls richer, conveyed the news of the events and Reza’s orders to guard the city to Tavia. Reza made no promises of his return, as there was no certainty about when he could leave.

  For the rest of the day, Reza and the other officers perched atop the wall, their few soldiers anxiously awaiting the worst. Horses and men were swiftly dispatched, and as the day transitioned into night, Reza diligently attempted to establish order among his men, rotating them out for brief periods of rest.

  However, he found no respite; not a single officer on the wall could afford even a moment of rest.

  Fortunately, while Reza predominantly had older men well into retirement, they were seasoned veterans who knew their job intimately. They managed the long stretches with minimal complaint and maintained their composure remarkably well.

  Reza nodded to each soldier as he returned to the small fire, hoping to warm his body while they all endured the wait for reinforcements and the end of their vigil on the wall.

  Reza reminisced about the night when rumors began circulating among the soldiers and citizens, claiming the deaths of multiple Archons. The most frequently mentioned names were Helton and Wholcraft. Neither was unexpected, considering their advanced ages and the fact that they were the oldest Archons. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, Reza realized that he could not prevent the rumors from spreading when he was not around.

  However, the rumors turned out to be false. Early in the morning, an official message from the Prefect was sent to every officer, announcing the passing of Marcellus Sulli, the Archon of the thirteenth. The priests of the echoes had finally confirmed the death after Sorana, the Echo of Marcellus, regained enough strength to reveal her presence within her tower. No further details were provided beyond the confirmation of the Archon’s demise.

  Reza couldn’t help but remember the man and soldier he had fought alongside when the Archon led their Legions several years ago. The Archonless Seventh Legion had joined the Thirteenth to confront Stiona, a Remnant Kingdom that had posed a threat to Arkhen’s Northwestern province. Marcellus had been a respected figure among the soldiers, admired for his combat skills and leadership. His death would undoubtedly be a significant blow to the thirteenth if it managed to survive. This was the one concern that kept Reza up at night: would the legion still stand?

  Deaths of Archons occurred, but another would rise in their place. Echo’s had even fallen in history, the four broken towers serving as evidence of their demise. However, the legions endured. They formed the backbone of Arkhen’s strength; the destruction of one legion left the city weakened and potentially vulnerable to an attack. The legions were the men who held back the city’s enemies, and if one legion was in trouble or absent, everyone should be concerned. This unknown entity cast a pervasive fog of fear over the city, which would hopefully soon be dispelled by news from the West.

  A shadow pierced through the light of Reza’s fire, momentarily disrupting his thoughts. Turning, he caught a faint glimpse of a woman standing in the shadows behind him.

  “Sabine, why on earth are you following my shadow?” Reza asked, extending his hand. She grasped his forearm, and they embraced tightly. It had been far too long since they had last seen each other; Sabine had transferred out of the Seventh year group years ago.

  She hadn’t changed much in that time. She was still a good half-head shorter than Reza, though her body and muscles were honed tightly, resembling a bowstring. Her blonde hair, almost white, shone silver in the firelight. She pulled it back from her Amber eyes. Strangely, her eyebrows, raven black in color, stood out as a stark contrast to her hair.

  She was almost Reza’s opposite in every way. Sabine was much more outgoing than he was. Her personality could fill any room she entered, and her bright smile was always visible. In contrast, Reza preferred to keep to a small circle of trusted friends.

  “It’s good to see you too,” she smiled. “I was coming to relieve you of your post, but I can come back later if you’d like to stay.”

  She turned to leave, but Reza grabbed her shoulder, swinging her back to face him. She returned to the small fire with a broad smile.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “No, no, you can stay. I’m want to see a bed sometime today. I haven’t been on watch duty in years, it’s strange when you get accustomed to issuing commands.” Reza chuckled. He had been an Optio, the second-in-command of a unit of men, in the seventh legion for a couple of years now. He had achieved this position despite lacking powerful allies. Merit, Reza knew, had played a role, but merit could only take someone so far. Sabine and her family had been among the few who had actively advocated for Reza’s appointment. However, her father wouldn’t have supported it had he not believed in Reza’s abilities. Most city government and Legion positions were often reserved for members of the ten families. While Reza could claim very distant familial ties to a few of these families, he was not included in such an elite group. The Reza Family was considered minor nobility, far below the great houses.

  “We need everyone we can get on the walls. The Praetor has compelled every individual who has ever served as a soldier, even for a single day, to be stationed on these walls. Half of the people on the walls are not even active soldiers.” Sabine said, grabbing a flask from her jacket and taking a small sip before handing it over. “In these chaotic and uncertain times, any capable soldier was retained on the walls. I only arrived in the city from the family estate an hour ago with some of the houseguards. They have only recently begun to release some of the officers from the walls to rest.”

  Reza nodded gratefully, taking a sip of the lovely red wine. It was likely from her father’s wineries in the south. This probably cost more than my jacket. Reza kept his thoughts to himself, simply delighted to have the warm wine soothe his body.

  “I saw old man Tiberius an hour ago. You know how dangerous it is when a hundred-and-fifty-year-old soldier takes his place on the wall.” Reza returned the flask, and Sabine took another sip before placing it away. “You’d think the families would keep a legion nearby, even if they aren’t allowed to be housed in the city or increase the size of the city guard.”

  “I wager none of them anticipated the demise of one of the Archons. How many years have passed since we’ve been at war with either the empire or the remnants?” Sabine sat up on the wall, her legs dangling over the edge. She adjusted her bow and quiver to make it more comfortable. “Marcellus was riding for his legion in the west. They have riders searching for what may have transpired, and two legions, including yours, are already returning to the city. I believe they’ve done all they can.”

  Despite her friendship with Reza and the egregious mistake of sending their armies away from the city, Sabine was a member of the ten families and would defend them. Her father was the head of the formidable Rewan family, and his brother was one of the Archons and general of the first legion. It was far too late into the conversation for Reza to comprehend the terrifying thoughts that must have raced through his friend’s mind during the morning, anxiously awaiting news of her uncle’s survival.

  They remained silent for a moment, Reza searching for a suitable topic to end the uncomfortable silence.

  "Enough of this unpleasant talk. Who do you think will go for the Echo? What is it, four families without one Archon of their own?" Reza abruptly shifted the topic. The ten great houses of Arkhen had always engaged in a fierce competition for the privilege of having one of their own as an archon. Currently, all the archons belonged to ten families, with two families having multiple archons. The Sanderns had a father and son as archons, while the Crichtons had twins holding another two echoes. Consequently, four families, including the Sulli, were left without an archon.

  “Yes, but all the families, another fifteen lower houses, aware looking for the chance to secure a position within the ten great houses. Moreover, any desperate individual will vie for the coveted position. I can’t help but wonder what the Echo will choose to test the contestants this time?” Sabine peered down over the wall, precariously leaning over the top and gazing down towards the flat plains on either side of the Verenik River. Reza instinctively reached out to grab her before she lost her balance, but he knew Sabine was deliberately teasing him; she possessed far better balance than he did.

  The city held little land now; you could ride for a few days before leaving its territory. This never changed the Ghost Plains outside of Arkhen. Law and tradition prohibited farming or housing any citizens on those plains, which remained sacred land, not to be destroyed, and only used for the legions to gather in dire circumstances. Reza would likely find himself with his returning legion in camp within a few days.

  “You never know with the Echoes. They never remain consistent. I still can’t believe the last contest to determine who held the power of a god was a puzzle.” Reza could still recall the contest, which had occurred over a decade ago, around the same time he made his first wraith pact. One of the Archons had passed away peacefully within the city. The Echo had chosen the first person to complete the puzzle they had created to gain their pact. Thousands had attempted it, but Zander of the Aren family emerged as the first to finish the puzzle and seize control of the Echo. What would this contest entail? Depending on the Echo’s decision, perhaps?

  In the back of his mind, the idea of attempting to win the echo had been in his mind for the past few hours of silently guarding the walls. It was likely a thought that had been on everyone’s mind. Perhaps he would participate in the contest. He could achieve the impossible and etch his name into history, setting his family on a path that would endure for generations.

  Reza shook his head, dismissing the idea as wild and unlikely to succeed. The great families wielded considerable influence over who would gain the coveted position within the city and would go to any lengths to prevent any outsider from triumphing. While it had happened in the past that the echo ultimately decided the winner, not the families, the families still ensured that the echo remained within the ten.

  Never mind that he had only three days before the legion would return to the city, and he would have to rejoin them—no time for such fanciful thoughts.

  "Anyway, thanks for the drink. I'm going to go find a bed and sleep as long as they allow me," Reza, gazing at the rising sun and the road that followed the river to the city gates, froze when he spotted movement in the distant horizon. Riders, their horses kicking up dust, burst onto the plain at a rapid pace.

  “Sabine, look there! What do you see?” he asked, pointing to the riders.

  Sabine turned her attention to where Reza had indicated, and a faint purple glow appeared to her right. A young man, clad in an ancient military uniform, stood with a spyglass in his hand. Sabine adjusted her eyepatch over her right eye and maintained her balance, keeping her gaze fixed on the riders. Her wraith held the spyglass aloft, scanning the horsemen in the distance.

  “There are eight riders pursuing a lone soldier. It appears to be one of ours from the uniform he wears. However, I don’t recognize the others,” she replied, never taking her eyes off the horsemen. “The lone rider’s horse is struggling; it’s limping quite badly.”

  Even from this distance, Reza realized the rider had no chance of reaching the city before the others caught him. Without hesitation, Reza prepared himself. He pulled his black hair out of his face and grabbed his dagger and sword from their sheaths. Drawing upon his inner power, he waited for an alarm to sound. When it failed to do so, he placed one foot on the capstone next to Sabine. She glanced over at him.

  “Sound the alarm. It appears no one else has noticed,” Reza stepped onto the capstone and let himself drop towards the ground. The air rushed up around him, tugging at his uniform as he fell closer to the hard stone of the main road leading into Arkhen. Reza waited a moment longer to summon his wraith, and she materialized on the ground below. Her ghostly silver glow illuminated her ethereal, close-fitting military attire, complete with long laced boots and a long jacket that reached her knees.

  Reza unleashed his power, seamlessly switching places with the wraith. As he felt the cold stone slabs of the road beneath him, he took off, his wraith gliding ahead. With each passing moment, he pushed himself harder, flaring his power to catch up to the riders. Every time he managed to get ahead, he would switch places, determined to close the gap.

  “It’s time to see what we can do, Elana,” he declared, his voice filled with excitement.

  Elana turned to face him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. They began their synchronized dance, switching spots effortlessly. With each transition, Elana would swiftly fly ahead, leaving Reza in her wake. Her speed was remarkable, allowing him to close the miles between them in just a minute. He was ready for the fight, his heart pounding with anticipation.