Leon stood at the docks, watching the Solmaran ships prepare to depart.
The three sleek vessels sat low in the water, their holds filled with documentation, survey data, and - most importantly - Mage Kaelis's full report to the Emperor. Everything they'd seen at the Horizon Gate, every measurement, every terrible calculation about what would pour through when it opened.
The return journey had been mercifully shorter than the trip east. Only twenty two days back to Rallegard, with Kaelis pushing for speed. Even Therin had asked fewer questions, too preoccupied with reviewing his notes and refining his understanding of Leon's formations.
Now they were leaving, and Leon couldn't quite suppress his anxiety about the timeline.
"High Archmage." Kaelis approached, her chromatic robes shifting in the sea breeze. "I want to thank you again for your hospitality and your candor. What I saw at the gate... it's not something I could have truly understood from reports alone."
"Will the Emperor commit?" Leon asked directly.
"He will," Kaelis said with certainty. "I'm sending three ships - two with my report, one as backup in case of delays. Even if storms slow us, the message will reach Solmara within ten days." She paused. "Then discussion, decision, mobilization... I estimate six weeks before the first Imperial forces can depart for Aldoria. Eight weeks before they arrive here."
Leon did the math. Six weeks to mobilize, plus however long the ocean crossing took. They'd told him the voyage from Solmara to Aldoria's coast was roughly two weeks with favorable winds.
Eight weeks. Two months.
They had less than three months until the gate opened.
"That's cutting it close," Leon said quietly.
"It's the best we can do," Kaelis replied. "The Empire is large. Calling up forces, organizing supply trains, coordinating with different military districts - it takes time. But we'll move as fast as possible. You have my word."
She extended her hand. Leon clasped it, feeling the weight of what that promise meant.
"Then we'll be ready to receive them when they arrive," Leon said.
Kaelis nodded and boarded her ship. Therin followed, pausing briefly to bow to Leon with something approaching reverence before disappearing below deck.
The ships cast off, sails unfurling to catch the morning wind. Leon watched them pull away from the dock, their departure speed doing little to ease his worries.
Fast ships. He really hoped this world had invented fast ships. Because they were desperately pressed for time, and watching the Solmaran vessels crawl toward the horizon at what seemed like a walking pace made his brain scream about inefficiency.
Steam engines, Leon thought, not for the first time. Propellers. Basic hydrodynamics. Hell, I'd settle for better sail configurations.
But that was a problem for another day. For now-
A slight cough drew his attention.
Leon turned to find a royal guard standing beside him, armor gleaming in the morning light. The man had approached silently during Leon's musings, waiting patiently to be noticed.
"High Archmage," the guard said with a respectful bow. "His Majesty requests your presence at the castle. The war room."
Leon felt a flash of guilt. He should have gone directly to report to the king upon arrival. Protocol demanded it - the High Archmage returns from a crucial diplomatic mission, he reports immediately to his sovereign. But Leon had been so focused on seeing the Solmarans off, ensuring Kaelis had everything she needed for her report to the Emperor...
The guard gestured toward a waiting carriage. "I've been instructed to escort you, my lord."
"Of course," Leon said, climbing into the carriage.
The ride through Rallegard was jarring after weeks away. The city had transformed even more than when he'd left. Every open space seemed occupied by drilling soldiers or stacked supplies. New construction dotted the streets - temporary barracks, expanded armories, storage facilities. The harbor they'd just left was crowded with ships being refitted for troop transport.
The entire kingdom had become a war machine in his absence.
The carriage pulled up to the castle. Leon was ushered through familiar corridors, past guards who saluted as he passed, past servants who bowed. The trappings of respect for the High Archmage.
The trappings of a fraud who'd been away while real work happened.
He reached the war room. The guard opened the door, announcing: "High Archmage Leon of Pelenna, Your Majesty."
Leon stepped inside and immediately felt relief at a familiar presence.
The Sword Saint stood near the king, fully armored as always, helmet obscuring her features. But even armored and anonymous, there was something reassuring about her presence. Someone who'd been there from the beginning, who knew what they faced, who never wavered.
Leon had missed her.
"Your Majesty," Leon began, bowing. "I've returned from escorting the Solmaran delegation to-"
"The Confederation of Free Cities sent a delegation," King Alderon interrupted.
Leon straightened from his bow, the formal report dying on his lips. "The Free Cities? When?"
"Over a month ago," Lord Casimir said from where he stood near the maps. He looked exhausted, Leon noticed. More worn than when Leon had departed.
"A month ago?" Leon repeated, trying to process that. "Why wasn't I informed? That's major news - another kingdom responding to our call, joining our alliance, that's - "
He stopped, noticing the expressions around the war room. The king's carefully neutral face. Casimir's bitter resignation. The Sword Saint's absolute stillness.
The silence stretched too long.
"What happened?" Leon asked quietly.
Lord Casimir met his eyes. "They will not join us."
The words hit Leon like a physical blow.
"They... what?"
"The Confederation of Free Cities," Casimir said, each word clipped and precise, "sent Consul Varro with a delegation of ten. They stayed for three weeks."
"And?" Leon asked, though he already knew the answer from Casimir's tone.
"And they observed everything," Casimir continued, his voice tight with controlled frustration. "Reviewed our preparations, studied the gate reports extensively, questioned our mages and soldiers. Initially they wanted to be escorted to see the Horizon Gate personally."
"Initially?" Leon asked.
"After a week of reviewing our documentation, they declined the trip," Casimir said. "Said they'd seen enough to make their assessment."
Leon's thoughts spiraled. They'd declined to see it? After traveling all that way, after reviewing everything - they'd refused to witness the gate themselves? Did they think it was a hoax? A lie crafted by Aldoria to pull in support for their own gates? Some political ploy to gain advantage over neighboring kingdoms?
"That's not it," Casimir interrupted his thoughts, reading the confusion on Leon's face. "We managed to make them see the threat. A little too well, I might add."
"What do you mean?"
"They believed us, High Archmage. Believed every word about the gate's scale, the timeline, the projected creature density." Casimir's jaw clenched. "That's precisely why they pulled back. Once they understood the full truth -once they calculated what defending a twenty-mile gate would actually require - they shifted strategies."
"To what?" Leon asked, though dread was already forming in his stomach.
"Refugees," the king said quietly. "They offered to accept Aldorian civilians if - when - our defenses fail. Evacuation assistance for those who can reach Free Cities territories before the gate opens."
"And?" Leon pressed, knowing there was more.
Casimir's hands clenched behind his back. "And they opted to do business instead of offering support."
"Business," Leon repeated, the word tasting bitter.
"Loans," Casimir said flatly. "The Confederation would be welcome to help - in the form of financial assistance. Loans for purchasing supplies, equipment, hiring mercenaries. They even brought terms with them. Very detailed terms."
Leon stared at him. "They came here offering to profit from this."
"They came here to assess whether we were worth investing in," Casimir corrected, his voice dripping with barely-contained rage. "Consul Varro was very professional about it. Explained that the Confederation couldn't justify spending their soldiers' lives on what they deemed an unwinnable battle. But they understood we still needed resources, and they were willing to provide financial support at-" He stopped, visibly controlling himself. "-appropriate rates for the risk involved."
"The interest rates are outrageous," the king said quietly. "Enough to bankrupt the kingdom three times over if we survive long enough to repay them."
Leon felt something cold settling in his chest. "But we need the resources."
"We need everything," Casimir said bitterly. "Supplies, equipment, potions, magical materials - we're already straining the kingdom's capacity. The loans would let us purchase what we can't produce ourselves. Let us hire experienced mercenaries from other territories. Extend our defensive capabilities." He paused. "At the cost of enslaving ourselves financially for generations."
"If we survive," Leon said numbly.
"If we survive," Casimir confirmed. "Which the Free Cities clearly doubt. They're betting we'll either defeat the gate - in which case they profit from the loans - or we'll fall, in which case they write off the loss and preserve their military strength for defending their own territories when the creatures spread."
The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive.
"We couldn't even tell them off," Casimir continued, voice tight. "Couldn't throw them out, couldn't refuse outright. Because even with the outrageous interest, we need those loans. So we asked for time to discuss the terms. And Consul Varro very graciously agreed, promising to 'spring into action' as soon as we accept."
Leon looked at the maps covering the war room table. All those markers, all that preparation. The kingdom grinding itself to dust, bankrupting itself, pressing every resource to the breaking point.
And the Free Cities saw it as a business opportunity.
"The other kingdoms?" Leon asked, grasping at any remaining hope. "Ishmar? The Eastern Coalition? Any responses?"
"Nothing," the king said. "Complete silence from all of them. Only two kingdoms responded to our call - Solmara and the Free Cities."
Leon felt the hope he'd gained over the past couple of months dimming, guttering like a candle in the wind.
He'd overestimated humanity.
Even in his old world, people had never agreed on unity even in the face of world-ending problems. Climate change, pandemics, resource depletion - there were always those who chose self-preservation over cooperation, who saw crisis as opportunity for profit rather than a call for collective action.
How could this world be any different?
"We have Solmara," Leon said, but even he could hear how hollow it sounded. "Admiral-Mage Kaelis committed the Empire's forces."
"One empire," Casimir said.
It was not looking good.
Leon stared at the black line representing the Horizon Gate, that impossible wound in reality stretching across twenty miles of horizon. And suddenly all his formations, all his innovations, all his careful engineering seemed pitifully inadequate.
They were going to die.
Not because they weren't smart enough or didn't work hard enough or didn't have the right techniques.
They were going to die because humanity couldn't unite even to save itself.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Leon looked around the war room. At the king, maintaining perfect composure despite the devastating news. At Casimir, barely containing his frustration. At the Sword Saint, motionless as a statue.
Leon wanted to argue. Wanted to insist they could still make it work. But the numbers were clear, had always been clear. One kingdom - even a powerful empire like Solmara - wasn't enough.
"We continue preparing," the king said, his voice firm despite the circumstances. "Solmara will help. Perhaps the other kingdoms will still respond. And if not - we fight with what we have."
"Your Majesty-" Casimir started.
"We fight with what we have," the king repeated, harder this time. "I will not abandon our eastern territories. I will not evacuate our people and hope the creatures don't spread. We prepare, we fight."
He looked at Leon.
"High Archmage, I need you to accelerate training for the new recruits. Your formations are our best advantage. Every soldier, every mage needs to be proficient in your techniques before the gate opens."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Leon said automatically.
"Lord Casimir, continue supply acquisition. I don't care if we bankrupt the kingdom. Dead people don't need money."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Dismissed," the king said. "All of you have work to do."
They filed out of the war room. Leon found himself walking beside Casimir through the castle corridors.
"A month," Leon said quietly. "They were here a whole month and no one told me."
"You were escorting Solmara," Casimir replied. "There was nothing you could have done. And..." He paused. "We hoped they might agree to help. Hoped right up until Consul Varro delivered her final decision three days ago."
"You should have sent word."
"To tell you what? Come back early and watch us fail to convince them? Watch them politely refuse to save us?" Casimir's voice was bitter. "At least with Solmara, your presence helped. The Free Cities had already made their decision before their delegation arrived. They came to confirm their assessment, not to be convinced otherwise."
They reached a branching corridor. Casimir stopped.
"I need to return to supply logistics," he said. "We're short on everything and the timeline keeps shrinking. But High Archmage-" He met Leon's eyes. "Train them well. Your formations are the only reason we have any hope at all."
He walked away, leaving Leon standing alone in the corridor.
Leon made his way to his chambers in a daze. Two months away - four weeks there, three weeks back, time at the gate showing Solmara the impossible threat. And in that time, another kingdom had come, assessed, and refused to help.
How many more would do the same? How many kingdoms would conclude that Aldoria was doomed and preserve their forces for their own defense?
Leon sat on his bed, staring at nothing.
They had Solmara. One empire, powerful but not infinite.
And now they knew - the other kingdoms might not come. Might watch Aldoria fall and hope the threat doesn't spread to them.
We're going to die, Leon thought. Not panic, just cold assessment. All the formations, all the innovations, all the desperate preparation - we're still going to die.
But the king was right. What choice did they have except to fight?
Leon stood and walked to his desk. Training schedules needed to be revised. Formation instruction needed to be accelerated. Supply efficiency arrays needed to be optimized further.
He had work to do.
Even if it wouldn't be enough.
Even if they were doomed.
He had work to do.