Graysons was sound asleep.

He couldn’t sleep the night before, or the night before that, or the night before that. He’d been run down ragged with delirium again, working himself beyond what he was capable of. Nothing was keeping him up but yet, he couldn’t sleep.

“I have to do better, Era.” He’s whispered to her when he finally hit the bed that morning, too tired to eat, too tired to lift his eyelids that kept threatening to close.

“You’re too hard on yourself.” She responded. The little blue dog curled herself into a ball at the foot of his bed.

He’d been doing so well, she thought sadly. Not pushing himself too hard, eating as balanced of a meal as he could at camp. But something in him snapped again, he wasn't seeing results quickly enough and in turn was hindering his own progress.

Grayson peered down at her through heavy eyelids, “I can hear you.” He growled.

She snorted back at him, “good.”

But that was hours ago.

It wasn’t the smoke that forced him out of his bear-like slumber, or the chaos that broke outside of the tent. It was Era, pouncing as heavily as the little blue dog could with her front two paws onto his overturned shoulder.

Grayson groaned, blinking away the sleep while she licked his face. “Grayson, the camps being raided!!” She barked.

“Huh?” He asked, confused by the noise and the heavy stench of burning that infiltrated his nostril.

“Camp. Raid. We’ve got to go!” She barked again, jumping off the bed and tugged at his boots with her teeth.

He was up. Despite the hysteria he heard outside, despite literally being caught with his pants down, despite being so utterly exhausted both physically and mentally, adrenaline began coursing through his veins. His heart was pounding against his chest and his breath quickened. It didn’t matter how he felt, he had to focus. Nothing else mattered at that moment besides putting on what clothes he could as fast as he could and getting outside to help.

Grayson never cursed. Well, hardly ever. A slew rather colorful words flew from his mouth as he grabbed his sword belt and fasten it to his waist.

He barely had time.

A guard dressed in blue and silver tumbled into his tent, sword drawn as he looked him in the eyes. There was a wildness there, a lust for combat, a will to survive.

Training never covered this. Sure, they talked about it, exaggerated it even, but none of that had prepared him to be pinned in that moment by the man's gaze.

Era jumped first, pulling Grayson out of his hypnotized state and fumbled with his own sword as he pulled it from its sheath.

Grayson swayed left, his sword almost dropping from his grasp as the man pounced forth and attacked him at his front, trying to keep him off his guard. Grayson hit a wall of his tent and the whole thing trembled violently. Reaffirming his grip on his sword Grayson brought it it up and cut it from right to left, causing the guard to jump backwards and hitting the bed with the back of his knees and using his free hands to help catch himself.

Using that moment to his advantage Grayson jumped at him but the guard instead propelled himself off the bed and their bodies collided.

Surprised Grayson tried using the momentum to pull back and stick at the guard with the pointy end of his sword. It clanked against the armor as he feigned left and went right. The guards weight was too much to handle and they were sent crumbling to the ground. The guards forearms held pressure against Graysons chest pinning him down, and shoved Grayson’s sword across the dirt which had left his hands and fallen to the ground with them. Grayson tried to push himself up but he couldn’t and in a moment he felt the guards hands wrapped around his neck.

Abandoning trying to reach his sword, he reached and tugged at the guards hands as they squeezed. He couldn’t breath, darkness began to invade his vision as his body frantically jerked beneath the guards. Moments, which felt like hours slipped between his last gasp and the current need for breath. He couldn’t pull his hands away from the death grip.

But then the pressure suddenly vanished.

Coughing, gaging, and sucking in huge gulps of air, Grayson tried to right himself and get his feet underneath him. He glanced over, his left hand soothing his throbbing throat to see Era lifting herself off the ground, lips curled back in an savage snarl as she prepared to lunge again. The cattle dog had battle rammed him with her body to get him off her fairy.

With the guards eyes on Era, Grayson grabbed the only thing within reach - his lantern, which was currently unlit. With all the force his body could manage he swung it up and over and down and made perfect contact with the guards head, who did the ground with a thud.

Panting, he righted himself and kicked at the guard. “He’s out” he said through gritted teeth. Era looked at him then snorted, kicking up dirt onto the the guard with her rear feet. Grayson hastily ran over and picked up his sword, “Alright let's go.”

It felt odd just leaving him there, he didn't even know the guys name. But someone screamed outside, and he was pulled from his thoughts even as his grip tightened around his sword hilt.

They both ran outside his tent, pure utter chaos erupted as several of his comrades were engaged in battle and others where running away from the plumes of smoke that were forming thick and heavy with threat. Era dived into the crowd and disappeared into the masses. Grayson twirled around, his eyes couldn’t settle, they kept moving as he panicked trying to figure out the best way for him to help. “Tristan!” He called, but his voice was lost in the comotion.

Grayson readied his sword, and prepared to charge into battle.