Nothing happened again. Soldiers hurried about, double-checking supplies and quietly bickering over shift changes. Someone was always on the lookout—while another rushed by with a worried frown. Nick exhaled slowly, allowing the swirl of anxious energy to wash over him. Despite the two days that had passed since the temple was attacked, no stampede had come. He felt relieved to finally be heading home. After his father announced a double watch and asked everyone who could to lend their support, Nick had effectively been conscripted as a scout. Floria had looked grim before, but now the tension in the air was palpable at every corner. The sun hung low in the sky as Nick trudged away from the wall. “Kid,” a tired woman acknowledged, tipping her helmet at him as he passed. She was one of many new recruits apparently impressed with his “scout spells.” They all had the same haunted look these days, jumpy and exhausted from the constant state of high alert. He nodded back. “Shift’s done. Good luck up there.” Truth be told, Nick found the time spent here tedious. He tried to focus on what might be lurking beyond the town’s perimeter and used [Wind God’s Third Eye] to scan the treelines, half-expecting another Vine Wraith or perhaps an entire horde of them. But the forest remained silent. That felt worse than any visible threat. Floria was like a coiled spring ready (...)