The morning of the fourth day before Solnera's anticipated arrival, Elias woke to Shade's urgent pulse through their connection. Not danger—something else. Discovery.
He dressed quickly and followed the shadow's guidance to the rooftop, where Hunger crouched at the edge, tendrils extended toward the Embassy Quarter. The memory-shadow had been performing its new reconnaissance function throughout the night, and now it trembled with information it couldn't quite process alone.
Elias knelt beside Hunger, opening himself to what it had sensed.
Fragments flooded in: conversations in Solneran, the taste of foreign magic, the residue of recent rituals, and underneath it all, a pattern. Not just soldiers arriving, but something more coordinated. Three separate forces, approaching from different directions, timed to converge simultaneously.
"They're not sending one Flamebearer," Elias said aloud, understanding crystallizing. "They're sending multiple forces to surround Grimwald. Pincer strategy."
Crimson descended, patterns shifting rapidly as it processed the tactical implications. Through their connection, Elias felt the shadow's assessment: three forces meant divided attention, multiple threats, no way to defend everywhere simultaneously.
He needed to warn the guild immediately.
Emergency Council
Magistrate Verne received him within the hour, council members assembling quickly in response to his message's urgency. Elias laid out what Hunger had discovered, with Lyra taking rapid notes.
"Three forces," Verne repeated, her scarred throat working. "How certain are you?"
"Hunger senses memory residue—traces of past events in places. It detected preparations for coordinated arrival at three different entry points: the main harbor, the eastern trade road, and the northern canal entrance." Elias pulled out a rough map he'd sketched. "They're not all arriving at once, but they're timed to establish positions before revealing themselves."
Councilor Brennus studied the map. "That's a sophisticated operation. More than just eliminating one rogue binder."
"Exactly. They're establishing permanent control infrastructure." Elias pointed to the positions. "Each force can support the others while also controlling key access points. It's occupation deployment."
"Which means our response needs to be more comprehensive than defending your tenement," Verne concluded. She turned to Lyra. "Contact our intelligence network. I want confirmation of these movements within six hours. Also, alert the City Watch—they need to know what's approaching."
"The Watch may not cooperate," another council member warned. "Half of them are on Solneran payroll."
"Then we identify which half and work around them." Verne's expression was hard. "Elias, your association contract covers defense against external threats. This qualifies. But we need to discuss scope—are you willing to engage multiple forces, or should we focus on one while using other methods for the rest?"
It was the question Elias had been dreading. Six shadows might handle one major threat. Three simultaneously? The logistics were overwhelming.
"I can't be three places at once," he admitted. "But my shadows can operate with some independence if I establish clear parameters beforehand. Shade and Crimson could defend the harbor while I'm at the trade road, for example."
"Risky," Brennus observed. "Divided attention during combat is how binders lose control."
"I know. But what's the alternative? Let Solnera establish all three positions unopposed?"
Verne tapped the table thoughtfully. "We need a force multiplier. The guild can mobilize our own security personnel for two of the positions—not as effective as shadow-binding, but adequate for delaying actions. You focus on the most critical threat while we handle the others."
"Which is most critical?"
"The harbor," she decided. "That's where the bulk of their supplies and reinforcements will arrive. Hold the harbor, and the other two forces become isolated, easier to negotiate with or eliminate."
It made tactical sense, but Elias felt the weight of responsibility settling heavier. The guild was committing resources based on his intelligence, his assessment. If Hunger's reconnaissance was wrong, or if he'd misinterpreted the traces...
"I'm confident in the information," he said, pushing down doubt. "Hunger isn't perfect, but it's accurate about past events. The preparations happened."
"Then we proceed." Verne stood, signaling the meeting's conclusion. "Lyra, coordinate with Elias on positioning and communication protocols. Everyone else, prepare your departments. We have four days to ready defenses for three-pronged assault."
As the council dispersed, Verne caught Elias's arm. "One more thing. This level of threat justifies requesting additional support from our regional allies. Other guilds, mercenary companies, maybe even formal city military involvement. Should I pursue those options?"
Elias considered. More support meant better odds, but also more political complications, more groups with their own agendas.
"Request them, but don't make promises on my behalf. I'll work with whoever you bring in, but I'm not binding myself to new agreements under crisis pressure."
"Fair enough." She released his arm. "You're learning fast, Voidsinger. Let's hope it's fast enough."
Coordinating with the Collective
Garris received the news with grim acceptance.
"Three forces. We're more outmatched than I thought."
"Which is why the Collective needs to shift focus," Elias said. They were meeting in the same warehouse as before, but with greater urgency. "Your resistance actions for the next four days should target Solneran supply lines and communication. Make it harder for their three forces to coordinate."
"Sabotage?"
"Information disruption. Spread contradictory rumors about where defenses are positioned. Delay their messengers with 'accidental' obstructions. Make sure their forces can't easily communicate with each other." Elias pulled out the list of planned actions they'd reviewed previously. "Items one, four, and eight could be repurposed for this. Instead of slowing Solneran commerce generally, target their military supply chains specifically."
The textile merchant who'd been skeptical before leaned forward. "You're asking us to actively participate in military defense. That's different from economic resistance."
"It is. And it's more dangerous." Elias met her gaze directly. "If you're not comfortable with that escalation, withdraw now. I won't think less of you—this is beyond what we originally discussed."
She exchanged glances with the other merchants. "What kind of protection can you offer if we take these risks?"
"Honest answer? Less than I'd like. I'll be focused on the harbor defense. But the guild is mobilizing security personnel throughout the city. If Solnera retaliates against you, there should be response forces available."
"Should be," another merchant repeated skeptically.
"I can't guarantee anything in war," Elias said. "I can only tell you what I'm willing to do and what others have promised. The rest is your decision."
Garris spoke up. "The Collective votes. Those in favor of shifting to military support actions?"
This time, all hands rose. Even the skeptical textile merchant, though her expression remained worried.
"Unanimous," Garris declared. "We're committed. Now let's make sure we know what we're doing."
They spent the next two hours planning specific disruptions—which roads to obstruct, which messengers to delay, what rumors to spread. It was grimly practical work, transforming merchants into auxiliary forces in a conflict they'd never wanted.
As the meeting concluded, the textile merchant approached Elias privately.
"I have a daughter," she said quietly. "Fourteen years old. She helps in my shop. If this goes wrong, if Solnera breaks through your defenses..."
"Then get her out of the city," Elias said. "Send her to relatives in the countryside, anywhere away from Grimwald. Don't let her become a casualty of this."
"You really think it could get that bad?"
"I think three coordinated forces represent an invasion, not a police action. Solnera's not coming to arrest me anymore—they're coming to occupy. And occupations have casualties."
The woman's face paled, but she nodded. "Thank you for being honest. I'll send her away tomorrow."
After she left, Garris approached. "You didn't sugarcoat that."
"She deserved the truth."
"Most leaders would have offered reassurance, even false reassurance."
"I'm not most leaders. And false reassurance gets people killed."
Garris studied him for a moment, then nodded approvingly. "You're learning the hard lessons fast. That's good. We need leaders who understand what they're asking of people."
"I'm not a leader."
"You keep saying that. Everyone else disagrees."
Training Adjustments
Back at the tenement, Elias restructured his training to focus on shadow independence. If he needed Shade and Crimson to defend the harbor while he was elsewhere, they needed to operate with minimal guidance.
He established clear parameters: Shade's primary function would be defense and interception. Crimson would handle tactical assessment and precision strikes. Both shadows needed to recognize threats and respond appropriately without waiting for explicit commands.
The practice was nerve-wracking. Elias positioned himself in one corner of the rooftop while his shadows operated on the opposite side, responding to threats he simulated through Mira's assistance. She threw objects, created distractions, tried to breach the perimeter the shadows were defending.
Initially, the shadows kept looking to Elias for guidance, uncertain about acting independently. But gradually, through repeated drills and reinforced parameters, they began making decisions on their own.
Shade would intercept projectiles without being told. Crimson would calculate trajectory and strike preemptively. They weren't operating completely independently—Elias still felt their connections, still provided background presence—but they were functioning with much greater autonomy.
"That's terrifying and impressive," Mira observed after watching Shade intercept three simultaneous attacks while Crimson disabled her makeshift weapon. "They're thinking for themselves."
"Not really. They're following established patterns within clear parameters. But yes, it's working." Elias felt exhausted from the mental effort of maintaining connection while deliberately not controlling. "I don't know if it'll hold during actual combat, but it's better than nothing."
Whisperfang and Ember received similar training, though with different focuses. Whisperfang's chains needed to control space and restrict enemy movement. Ember needed to provide area denial and support without requiring constant direction about where to burn.
Only Hunger remained primarily under direct control—too dangerous to give autonomy, even with its new reconnaissance purpose.
By evening, Elias's head pounded from the effort. He took Doctor Harvin's essence tincture and fell into dreamless sleep, his six shadows positioned protectively around the room.
The Codex's Warning
He woke in the middle of the night to find the Codex open beside him, glowing faintly in the darkness. Words had appeared unbidden:
Three days remain. Preparations proceed, systems strengthen, alliances solidify. You are ready for coordinated defense, for tactical deployment, for the battle to come.
But you are not ready for what follows the battle. Victory or defeat, the conflict will transform Grimwald. Your role will transform. The careful balance you have built—between power and humanity, independence and obligation—will be tested in ways that combat cannot predict.
The Seventh Shadow stirs, drawn by approaching conflict. It will offer power precisely when you most need it. But binding during crisis invites disaster. Remember Hunger. Remember the cost of haste.
What comes is not merely battle, but choice: who you will become in the aftermath.
Elias read the words twice, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. The Codex was warning him not about the fight itself, but about the temptation that would arise during it—the offer of more power exactly when circumstances made refusal nearly impossible.
"I won't bind the Seventh during the battle," he whispered to the book. "No matter how desperate things get."
Promises made in safety are easily kept. Promises made under fire require different strength.
The Codex closed itself, leaving Elias alone with his thoughts and his sleeping shadows.
Outside, Grimwald's fog concealed movements and preparations. Solneran forces approached from three directions. The guild mobilized its resources. The Collective prepared disruptions. And at the center of the converging storm, a young shadow-binder tried to convince himself he could hold together all the pieces he'd so carefully assembled.
Three days until Solnera arrived.
Three days to finish preparations.
Three days until everything he'd built would be tested by fire and force and the terrible temptations of war.
Elias didn't sleep again that night. He sat with his shadows, reviewing plans, strengthening connections, and trying not to think about the Codex's warning about choices to come.
But the warning lingered, patient and inevitable as the approaching dawn.