The coastal watch was a test of patience, a monotonous cycle of scanning the ink-black horizon where the sky bled into the churning eastern ocean. Raven stood atop a jagged promontory of obsidian rock, his dark cloak snapping in the gale. Beside him, General Aquila leaned against his great-shield, his presence a stabilizing anchor in the shifting shadows. Rook, who had learnt to channel his dark magic flexibly and could even mimic a bit of earth magic (earning him the title of the 'Obsidian earth mage' in the Obsidian Kingdom, much to the amusement of Mana and Raven), knelt on the damp sand below, his hand pressed against the bedrock, monitoring the tectonic vibrations of the coastline.
The defensive grid, which was Jules and Fox's masterwork, had already been active for three days. It was a silent web of ley line-monitoring magic, designed to scream if anything with a magical signature crossed the maritime border.
At precisely three in the morning, the silence broke.
