“Doc?” I called, glancing around the tent. I located him on the far side of the space, tending to a man with a cut across his forehead.

“Hey, Doc? I found this kid in the town, and…”

“Nyx! You know you’re not supposed to be in town!” he interrupted, “you were told to stay-”

“Yeah, yeah,” I cut him off, “but this guy is hurt bad and-” He ignored the rest of the sentence in his urgency, instead looking for the boy, suddenly alert.

I pointed to Jax in the corner, and Doc rushed over to him, in full must-protect-the-children mode. He got like that when it came to treating kids, and I didn’t blame him. Kids were usually the most protected in any situation and to see one gravely injured was disastrous. I made my way back to Jax’s cot, where Doc was checking over him. He brought out a pair of scissors and hacked the bloodied shirt off of him, exposing his bare chest, and the open wound. Doc muttered to himself, me only catching a word or two.

“...knife wound… probably’ll need stitches… any anesthesia? No, we’re out…”

The medic turned to me, reiterating what he’d said. “He has a deep knife wound, and he’ll need stitches. Usually, I’d put him under for that kind of surgery, but we’re out of anesthesia. He’ll have to do without.”

“Tell him that.” I gestured toward the boy, blue eyes wide with terror, frozen against the cot. Doc turned toward him with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say that it won’t be that bad, but that would be a lie. It will be that bad.”

Jax closed his eyes, deep grey lashes fanning over his cheeks as he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and looked at Doc with new determination.

“Do it.”

Doc nodded and rummaged through his bag, pulling out a needle and thick, silvery thread. He kneeled next to Jax and, with no warning whatsoever, drove the needle through the skin. The boy’s shriek of terror and pain was enough to make me nauseous. I was tempted to leave the stifling interior of the medical tent and distance myself from the screaming, but I crouched on Jax’s other side, grabbing his hand in an attempt to calm him. We had to call some of the men over to hold him down, but finally, after what seemed an eternity, Doc had finished sewing him up, and he lay there, eyes closed from exhaustion, panting. The medic wiped a disinfectant wipe over the cut and nodded at his handiwork.

“He’ll be alright, but he’s lost a lot of blood. Let’s give him a moment to rest before we move him anywhere.”

I acknowledged Doc and went to the entrance of the tent, checking on the troops still fighting. The soldiers were doing well, most of the Faded had fled, and the ones remaining were slowing down. The few troops down were nothing compared to the masses of Faded corpses strewn over the ground. I knew it should have been repulsive, but it only instilled a sense of victory and pride. This was my mother’s army, and they could take anything thrown at us. As the last few of the corrupted fell, and the sun rose past the horizon, breaking through the darkness, a cheer rose among the troops, a cheer of triumph.

I looked around for my mother, glancing over the crowds of soldiers, when Haynes, the watchman who had warned of the incoming attack, was suddenly beside me.

“Hey, Nyx? Do you know where the Commander went?” he asked. I shook my head.

“I haven’t seen her since the invasion began,” I replied.

“Same here. Well, she’s our general. Wherever she’s gone, I’m sure she has a good reason.”