I am up on the hilltop, on the rugged lip of it overlooking the valley below, but I am there in the battle as well, living it through the voices of those fighting, those giving up their lives for the Land.And I watch as the water tank falls, though the Land close enough to see it fall die rapidly under the hand of the Clearing, each death a terrible tear at the voice of the Land, a sudden absence that pulls and pains–But is necessary–Necessary in small numbers only, the Sky shows to me, watching, too. Necessary to save the entire body of the Land.And necessary to finish this war before the convoy arrives, I show back, hitting the strange word that I did not teach him.There is time, the Sky shows, his concentration still on the city below, still on the voices that reach us from there, fewer now, more on the run.There is? I ask, surprised, wondering how he knows for sure–But I set my concerns aside, because the Sky’s voice opens to remind me of what is still to come tonight, now that the first goal of toppling the water tank is achieved.One way or another, tonight is where the war will change.Their water was the first step.All-out invasion is the second.The Land has not been idle these past days.
