Cillian Coinoch carefully watched the foreign magi as they approached. All throughout the journey, he had been reviewing Corporal Ortiz’s report mentally. And he had been nervously fidgeting the entire ride over.
The foreigner Ortiz met…she might be a Grand Magus and was at least a True Magus. The ability to cross several longstrides of distance in the blink of an eye, and the power to freeze the corporal in place without the slightest sign of a spell circle…those were the hallmarks of power. She was far beyond the company’s level, and the merest whim could spell his doom.
Still, protocol was protocol, and Ortiz said that Lady Yuriko Mishala Davar was not hostile. So it fell to him, his duty, to welcome her to the Republic of Bresia and do his best to invite her to visit one of the Magi Academies.
Preferably to Niria, where he had graduated from, rather than that Other Academy with its cyclic elements nonsense. There was little need to learn about multiple Elemental Truths since that would simply dilute one’s understanding. Even if the cyclists empowered the next element in the sequence, it still paled in comparison to the depth of power one could have with focus. He was also close to reaching a Truth of Elemental Fire, and by what Ortiz observed, Lady Davar’s focus might be the same as his. It might be a different Truth, but all Truths are related one way or another.
Having dismounted from his Steeld, the only thing Cillian could do now was wait, and hope that they really weren’t hostile. The woman in the lead was presumably Lady Davar. She was tall and slender, which was quite apparent from her form-hugging clothes, even through the grey overcoat. Long golden hair, eyes blue as the skies, and a face that rivalled, or even exceeded the Goddess of Beauty. He felt his heart begin to pound, but almost at the next moment, he felt his mind and heart calm.
Which should have frightened him even more. He absently noted a powerful calming effect around the Lady and took note of the other two flanking her.
One was another blonde woman whose hair was curled in corkscrews that would not have been out of place in a ballroom. She was pretty, too, beautiful, even, but next to Lady Davar…
The other was a young man who was taller than the Lady and was probably taller than Cillian, too. He looked more of a youth than anything else, with his clean-shaven face which still held a hint of baby fat. His skin tone was a pleasant burnished bronze, and his eyes glared with barely suppressed power. A dangerous man, indeed.
Hmmm, what was that? Cillian’s eyes were drawn to a strange accumulation of elemental energies. He wasn’t sure what it was, and he couldn’t really see the details, or what elements were present, and he dared not activate his elemental sight, not without permission from the foreign magus. Er, but he was certain that the human-shaped distortion a few dozen paces away, currently circling around the patrol company, was someone hidden from plain sight. Why they didn’t quell the elemental distortion, he didn’t know. Well, Twisted Beasts might not notice, but any magus worth their salt definitely would.
He barely had time to consider who or what it was, because a moment later, Lady Yuriko Davar’s presence drove away every mote of fire elemental energies away. Something pressed down on him, and he nearly fell on his knees. Only his stiffened resolve and pride kept him on his feet. The same wasn’t the case for the other members of his team. The Sha’ledras grunted and nearly fell off their Steelds. The Durandir merely shook their heads, locked their jaws and persevered. The other four humans were squashed down on their saddles, while the three beastkin practically prostrated themselves on their saddles. Corporal Ortiz knelt down beside him, and the last member of the team, the second Ib’honara scout, was nowhere near.
Before they headed towards the meeting point, Cillian had sent the young birdman back to Duskfoot Guard, to warn the outpost commander of the foreigners’ presence, and to ready themselves should the worst happen.
The sense of oppression barely lasted a moment before it lifted, and Cillian felt a soothing breeze uplift his mind. The others, fifty paces back, recovered their aplomb, and he imagined their faces to be filled with awe. The Lady was definitely a Grand Mage! Her Elemental Domain was so powerful that even a brief exposure had exposed the patrol’s weakness.
A lesser man might have been offended at being tested like so, but Cillian was used to walking in the company of the powerful. After all, his grand uncle and great-grandmother were True Magi, just a level below the Grand Magus and three levels above a Journeyman. Another glance backwards showed him that his team had recovered their composure and that it was time for him to come forward politely.
He did so, marching with a stolid pace, and when he came within easy speaking distance, he bowed as courtly manners demanded.
“Well met, Lady Davar,” he said, using fluent Wojan instead of the native Bresian language. The latter was actually a derivative of the trade tongue and was close enough that some words meant the same thing in either language.
“Well met,” Lady Davar said. Her voice had a mesmerizing quality that he barely managed to keep himself from kneeling and offering his absolute loyalty. If not for the other oaths that bound him, and everyone within the team, he would have sworn. “Your name? You know mine.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“Ah, apologies. I am Lieutenant Cillian Coinoch, company commander of Duskfoot Guards Third Patrol Company. I bid you welcome to the Republic. Ah! We are at the borders, in the wasteland, so we’re just outside the country, ahaha…”
“I see,” Lady Davar said. “And why did you wish to meet?”
“Corporal Ortiz said that you and your group were lost?” Cillian asked, then continued. “Well then, Bresia Republic, situated as we are at the border of the Shattered Realm, is quite welcoming of non-hostile foreigners. It is tradition to welcome those who come to our shores in peace.”
“Hmmm. How magnanimous of you.”
Cillian shrugged. “It has been so for the past millennia. And while some have proven hostile, more than enough were willing to come and stay in peace. We pride ourselves on our compiled knowledge, and we have two Academy cities that have drawn other foreigners to learn and contribute to our stores!”
“Oh?” There was a spark of interest in her eyes. Cillian held in a grin. Aside from the fact that she was incredibly beautiful, he would also advance his political and military career if he managed to invite her to Niria Academy. “Hmmm, I…we would appreciate the chance to learn more about this place.”
“And the surroundings,” the other girl said.
Truthfully, Cillian wasn’t sure how old the three were. They looked young, yes, but being powerful Magi, it was not impossible to easily acquire an Elixir of Life. In fact, most, if not all, of the powerful magi in the country, and their neighbouring countries were old coots that should have long been buried. Well, not that he intended to grow old and die. Hmmm, what was the likelihood that Lady Davar and her subordinates were as young as they looked? Practically nil, he thought.
“Then may we lead you to our home base? Duskfoot Guard is near the border of the wasteland and Bresia. And from there, we can do everything needed to ensure that your stay in Bresia is comfortable and legal.”
“I see.” Lady Davar looked at the other members of Cillian’s company, then nodded. “Very well, we accept your hospitality.”
“Welcome to Bresia Republic!” Cillian repeated. “We will escort you to Duskfoot Guard. Er, please return to your flying ship and we will lead. From here, the outpost is nearly forty leagues northeast, a couple of days’ journey.”
“Thank you,” Lady Davar said. She and the other two, along with the invisible humanoid, returned towards their ship. Cillian took care to only look at the fourth member of Lady Davar’s party out of the corner of his eye. He was worried since the elemental distortion was a bit more powerful than he expected. He actually couldn’t hold in a sigh of relief when the invisible person headed towards the ship. Uhm, it wasn’t an invisible stalker, was it? He couldn’t imagine that Lady Davar would have missed it.
Once Lady Davar and her cohorts returned to their ship, Cillian mounted his Steeld and rode back to the rest of the troupe.
Sergeant Sallah Harding was a fifty-year-old Durandir, and his second in command. She pretty much ran the company, while he provided the link between higher command and the grunts. Her fiery red hair was gathered in a braid, which joined her beard and whiskers to wrap around her neck.
“Frightening bunch,” Sallah said as soon as he came within easy earshot.
“You got all of it?”
“I heard, and more importantly, I saw. And felt.”
“Was it an Elemental Domain?”
“It feels like it, sir,” she said, then asked, “What was her element? It was not earth, that much I could tell, or any close derivative.”
“It had something to do with heat.” Cillian offered.
“Not fire?”
“Not in the main part.”
“Then what were those beams Corporal Ortiz observed?”
“Unknown.”
“Perhaps we’ll find out more over the next two days.”
“Yes.”
Cillian led the rest of his team towards the floating ship. He saw Lady Davar take the helm, then his jaw dropped her golden light flared around the entire thing, pushed it up off the group, then moved it at a steady clip.
Again, the fire elemental energies, and from the expression of the other soldiers, their respective elemental energies, were pushed away by the golden light.
“Take space,” Cillian commanded and they formed two loose lines on either side of the ship. He and Sallah took point, and he gestured to the bow lookout, who happened to be the same corkscrew hair woman, and pointed northeast.
“Yuri! Angle a bit to the left,” the woman yelled back.
“I see it, Gwen,” Lady Davar’s voice chimed.
Hmm, so not simple cohorts then?
Thinking to test the ship’s speed, he slowly ramped up the Steeld’s movement and pushed towards their best sustainable speed at forty longstrides an hour. It was the rate at which the weakest magi in the group could sustain the Arcana charge. They could last like this for about four to five hours before needing an hour’s break. Then a second run before they rested for the night. That was only if they didn’t encounter any Twisted Beasts, and only on flat lands. As if were, they could sustain an average of twenty longstrides an hour, and they would reach Duskfoot Guard by late afternoon tomorrow. It was already afternoon now, so they only had half a day’s march.
But considering how many beasts they had fought earlier, it was inevitable that they would get attacked. A pack of carnivores rushed out from behind a ridge, mouths slavering with disgusting grey drool.
“Right flank ready!” Cillian yelled. “At your command, Sergeant!” With the group split up, Cillian commanded the left flank while Sallah, the right.
“Fire!” Sallah Harding yelled, her voice cool and composed. The right flank had all of her Durandir fellows and all three of the remaining beastkin and Private Ascott, a human youth.
The Durandir used their shotguns while the beastkin used rifles. Private Ascott cast his innate spell, Wind Shear.
The first volley wounded eight of the twenty beasts, with only one knocked down. And just as Sallah was about to shout for another volley, twin beams of incandescent light shot over the ship’s railings and bisected every last one of the beasts.
Cillian swallowed convulsively. He had not detected the stirrings of elemental energy until after the attack. Still, he mastered himself in moments and trotted his Steeld close to Lady Gwen.
“Ma’am, permission to harvest the corpses.”
Lady Gwen looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
Cillian nodded, then yelled, “Make it quick! Five minutes!”
The ship slowed to a stop as the patrol company finally managed to harvest something from their travels.