Nowhere, Salía, The Caustlands, 345 SE





Airam Mazo was not a tall man, a fact which sometimes annoyed him, especially as a soldier. Today though, he was grateful. Standing as he was three ranks back in the formation, his view of the Black Fence was almost totally obscured by the taller soldiers in front of him.





So he caught only glimpses of the glossy black stone, though he could see the whole of it by remembering the circle it formed on his map, how it curved in to enclose.



But he should not see it, should not have made it, and they were standing so close, and they did not normally get this close to the Black Fence. It wasn't safe. It wasn't—



infinite depths of waves beneath the all of things come see come look look OUTSIDE





—wise. Or so they had all been told by the veterans of the Nowhere Watch. When a group of green soldiers arrived, though, they were brought here. And they were always green, untested, no matter their rank, no matter how crusty or combat-seasoned.





Everyone was green when they first arrived to stand the Nowhere Watch. Airam himself was a Sergeant who had seen action against bandits on the Tenggaran border. He had faced ashwights in Acheronford, had watched their misshapen forms drag themselves out of the Ashlit Mire and swarm the ramparts. He had helped cut them down, heard their burbling death-sounds. He had scars to show for it.





Still he was green, here with the Nowhere Watch.





it's not nowhere you know that no this is a place, this is a real place and the Black Fence Black Fence is real and solid go, go ahead and touch the obsidian it is smooth and it is warm, it must be warm, it must welcome skin





Airam shuddered, doing his best to hide it. He was glad that he was not bald, that his black hair was thick. Otherwise they could easily see his sweat, see it stand out against the flush of his skin, but his skin was brown, and the flush was not so easy to see and he was grateful, was—





reach up in through realized known concept concept made real





He only just resisted holding his head in his hands. Be silent, he yelled downward into the echoing parts of his mind. He yelled it in Gentic. He yelled it in his native Ambérico. He closed his eyes to shut out the great obsidian shards he thought he could still see, see right through the taller soldier in front of him. He had seen already, seen on his map, seen on the map he had made he—





Murmuring in the ranks. Airam opened his eyes. So far everyone was standing fast, none had moved. Airam would stand fast as well. His right eye was twitching. He decided this was because it could see too profoundly. He couldn't shut it now.





"Right...FACE!" It was the voice of the First Sergeant, standing in front of the formation. Airam could not remember her name. Her words were harsh, even for a barked command. He felt his body tense at the first word, move at the second, no thought, long habit. Right foot pivot on the heel—



