That sight alone was enough to wake me up. Whatever remnant of sleep had remined disappeared as another arrow flew by and struck the ground.
"Wake up!" I shouted as I dashed towards Vincent. Laying on the ground, he was an easy target for archers. As the others crawled out of their tents, clearly sleepy and not aware of the situation, I stepped in front of Vincent.
I raised my hand and gathered the winds in my palm. If I could just blow the next volley of arrows away, we could still stand a chance.
For a moment, the wind resisted me. I gritted my teeth and focused – our lives depended on this. I couldn't fail, not now of all times. I could hear the low whistle of the approaching arrows; I could see the glint of moonlight reflecting off them.
A sudden wind, more powerful than I intended, swept the incoming arrows away. If I were a fraction of a second late, we'd all be dead, or gravely wounded.
"Wake up!" I shouted again.
