Matus Scratched his chin through the thick carpet of his beard as he sighed in relief, already anticipating his old ass plopping down onto the large stone beneath him. His knees gently throbbed with heat that could turn into a bone-deep ache at any moment, and his hips and back pricked at the back of his mind as he relaxed with a sigh. If he hadn't already realized it, this would be enough of a slap in the face to make him admit he was getting old.

It was something he knew logically. He was middle-aged by any measure… except having a family. That part of his life never quite worked out, but that wasn't from his lack of trying. It was an old wound that had long closed during his slightly more than a half-century of service in the legion, though it still ached at times like these.

Retiring to the Long-Ear Hold was… an escape. A place far away from everything that had ruled his life until then, and he could drown himself in the hard labor of farm work. It was a choice not many in his position would make.

Unless they had some severe blemishes on their record, retiring knights could accept one of a dozen offers to serve as a noble's personal guard. An easy job that would have required little more than him lazing around as a status symbol. On rare occasions, he would have to fight or intimidate someone, but they would be few and far between.

Except he didn't want that. He wanted to be useful and make something rather than destroy it. And he spent nine years doing just that. He plowed and seeded fields. He harvested the crops with the community and celebrated with them after a good year while preparing for the bad. And now it was all gone.

Well, not entirely gone… some people had survived. A fraction of those who started the siege came out the other side, but the community that he had come to love was shattered. After the battle with the 14th Legion, everyone went their separate ways. Most Holders had blood connections with other holds if you went one or five generations back.

Given the region's isolation, even the most distant neighbors and relatives tried to provide what support they could in times of need. It was that kind of tight-knit community that allowed the Holders to thrive. Even the most tight-fisted coin mongers would honor the ties, as not doing so would be a mark against their reputation that no one would forget. The knowledge that they could be next also didn't hurt in accepting the Long-ears.

That isn't to say everyone decided to go to their relatives, as some went south with the legion. To Matus… neither option sounded good. Going south felt like fleeing, and moving to another hold that would no doubt accept him felt like hiding. His opinion of the… friendly Kin wasn't great, but at least he could appreciate their willingness to fight for what they wanted.

As for the stubborn holders… well, their generational experience told them to hide within their strongholds until whatever problem was outside passed them by. Up until now, well, Matus couldn't say that it worked great, but it did work. Olimpia had all but given up on conquering them, the beastkins were a fear of the past, and famine could never outlast their massive food reserves.

The Kin, however, regardless of the side of their civil war you were looking at, was nothing like anything the Holders had previously encountered. The uncertainty of the Kin's abilities, combined with their incentives, wasn't a good combination for future prospects in maintaining a largely independent north. Right now, the Redtail Kin seemed content to subdue the Holders through diplomacy, but it was always a possibility. Anyone with a grain of strategic training could tell you that the Kin couldn't allow a knife poised at their backs to remain for long.

Apparently, all the Holders fell into this category, as none seemed willing to acknowledge the truth. Even the holds that were willing to interact with the Kin to sell them food viewed the interaction more like the tentative alliance they had with Olimpia rather than the first steps toward assimilation it was. Matus could be wrong about it all… but he doubted it.

Most of all, he had no intention of becoming attached to someplace again for it only to be destroyed in a pointless — and avoidable — war. Especially a war with a people that Matus had come to begrudgingly respect. To say the least, it was frustrating in the extreme.

It was a contradiction of emotions and beliefs bubbling up inside of him, and it left him in a state of indecision as he didn't want to help or hinder the Redtail Kin or the Holders. At least not directly. So he grabbed a pack, filled it with supplies, and moved south. He might have only been one person, but he was also a knight, so covering a lot of ground searching for Crescent Moon warbands was easy. And there was little risk for him outside of an elaborate ambush, a hard ask for someone attempting to attack a cautious Knight Terra.

There was a misperception about Knight Terra's on the subject of being surprised. It was commonly believed that all of them could use earth pulses, which was false. Some knights could, but the ones who couldn't didn't go out of their way to spread that information around, but that was beside the point.

What a Knight Terra could do was feel the vibrations within the ground. It took practice and had its limitations, but a knight could generally feel if anything was moving around them for a hundred yards or more. It was like watching a lake surface for rocks plopping into it. You might not always see what made the ring, but you could tell something was there. Once you know something was there, determining if it was a person or animal wasn't as complicated as you would think. Or you could skip that and simply run, which was always an option.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

So when the 14th Legion left, and he started creeping south to scout the Crescent Moon Kin, it didn't take him long to discover his tail. Not a Kin from the Crescent Moon, but one from the Redtail Faction. It was annoying, but it was also logical. In his own right, he was a force to be reckoned with, and not keeping tabs on him was a mistake.

Soon after his discovery, he made contact with his tale, and they began working together. In the first weeks, not much happened. They spotted small bands of Kin moving towards the north and a couple large camps positioned in key locations to block any force moving into the bread basket of the Cradle, but that was all. Everyone seemed to have agreed to put the fighting on pause.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago that things started to change. The small bands of Crescent Moon roving the border with the Holders dropped dramatically, and even the larger camps were looking empty. Which could only mean that people were being relocated for an attack.

The question that was burning in everyone's mind and lit a fire under their asses was where. How long it took to answer that question would most likely turn out to be the difference between a misfortune and tragedy.

Matus decided to take the risk and started moving south, searching for the answer, and his shadow followed along. As it turned out, there was little risk as it was frighteningly easy to slip into what was left of the Cradle. For the first couple of days, the only time they spotted other Kin was when they happened to pass by the ruins of some town the Kin were camped in.

Their presence in those locations wasn't a coincidence either, as the Crescent Moon groups were smack dab in the middle of an intersection of roads. What sent a shiver of fear down Matus's spine was that it was clear the lookouts were preparing to leave. Apparently, nothing was left to keep them around as the fields were empty patches of dirt, and the land was scoured of everything except the smallest game.

It wasn't until most of a week had passed that they found out where everything was. The Kin had killed and harvested everything within reach, though much of the crops should have still been too early to do so. However, they were evidently unwilling to leave anything behind.

The carts not loaded down with crops were packed with meat, wafting waves of frost into the warm air. Lines of carts that stretched miles were traveling south, and where one stopped, it felt like another began. After finding the baggage train, moving south became slightly harder, but only to the extent that they actually had to pay attention to their surroundings.

Simply following the lines of carts, they moved southeast, finally arriving on a hill overlooking the Twins River. Off in the distance was the Weeping Mountains, and with night having fallen a couple hours ago, there should have been little to make out.

"You don't see that every day." Said Satarki in her breathy voice from where she stood a couple of dozen feet off to the side. "What do you think, Old Man."

"Probably the same as you," Matus said back, his voice sounding tired after their weeks of travel.

"Yeah… But I would still like to hear you say it."

"Hmm…" Matus hummed, his eyes roving over the rivers of lights. "To me, it looks like the Crescent Moon is gathering a hoard numbering in the hundreds of thousands, and they are planning to move somewhere soon."

"Yeah. That's what I'm seeing too. Any idea of where they are going?"

"Not north. Instead of moving their supplies south and then back, they should be smart enough to position them so that they would pick them up along the way. Given we are seeing more supply trains coming in from the east and west… that logic applies to them as well."

"You are putting a lot of faith in the intelligence of these traitors." Sneered the Kin, then reluctantly added, "But even they should be able to figure that out. So they are heading south."

"So it would seem… And why does that make you so nervous." He saw her body jerk as if he had slapped her from the corner of his eye. "Ha!" The old knight barked out a laugh, coming to a gasping stop. "You weren't very subtle about your anxiety. The whole way south, you have been getting more twitchy, and now you are all but vibrating your way into the ground."

"You're imagining things in your dotage." Snapped back the woman. "Maybe you should find some porch to buy and retire on it before it becomes too hard for you to walk up the step."

"I would love to," Matus responded, a hint of yearning in his voice. "But what good is growing old on a porch if you're alone? Besides, I might be getting old, but my eyes are still working fine. I saw your reaction when I proved your fears."

"Semantics. Just because your eyes work doesn't mean your mind does."

"Point…" Matus responded, then waited long minutes in silence for the woman to break.

"Argh! Alright. If the… Traitors… are moving south… They have created something we haven't."

"I would appreciate a more in-depth explanation. What you have said only creates more questions than answers." The knight said, amusement in his voice.

"The Kin can't go farther south. If we do, we will end up like the beastkin again."

"And now you think they can?"

"Is there another reason that can explain their actions? 'cause I can't see one. But at least they will have to go through the Triad before they move south… Right."

"No, they won't. There are back roads through the weeping mountains. Most are small, but one is of decent size. Its far end has a fortress town, but I doubt it will hold long… or at all." Matus murmured, his mind supplying a picture of the bloody abominations he faced in the catacombs beneath the Long-Ear Hold. Shaking off the thought, he continued, "Can you send this news to the Triad?"

"Yes." She stated, but by her dead words, he knew she was looking up toward the top of the fallen city, where lines of light were moving into the mountain range. "You think that it will really matter?"

"A little. Though it probably won't be able to stop them… I once had a friend who was a scout. He told me the greatest struggle of being one wasn't the missions or training. It was being able to see the future. Knowing that if you had arrived sooner or were faster, you could change fate. And yet, the best you can hope to do is minimize the destruction. I never understood him until now."

The middle-aged Foxkin said nothing. But Satarki did move closer to the old knight, and one of her tails nearly brushed up against him as she sought silent support. She mumbled something, and a moment later, tongues of multi-colored flames appeared from her hands and wove together, forming a surprisingly lifelike bird that shot up into the sky, quickly disappearing from sight.

It was a beautiful piece of casting, but the knight couldn't appreciate it. Matus couldn't move as he processed the reality of the hoard that would soon be the first one to step foot into the heartlands of the Republic in hundreds of years.

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