0:024 on the 83rd day of Fall

It was a beautiful day. Oh, the weather was awful and I had been beaten black and blue by the rest of my decade again last night. They were still resentful of my slip up in the battle and wanted to remind me of it. Again. But things were looking up because we were headed back to Cinder by the end of the day. We weren't moving at the moment but I was ready to go. It would take a few days but we would get there in time for the Fall festival on the 91st day of the season. I sat on the tailgate of one of the carts that carried the legion's supplies, already packed for the trip. I bit into an apple I’d scavenged and grimaced. It must have been dropped as it was bruised on one side. It was still good though.

“Are you riding with me today?” asked the wagon’s driver.

I turned around and could barely see him over the piles of supplies in the back.

“If you don't mind.” I said. “Twisted ankle.” I gestured to the offending foot as an explanation. He nodded in confirmation.

“How much of a break do they give you for that?” he asked.

“In the regular legion they’d give you half a season of leave after an injury in battle but I’m a reservist.” I said. “I've got until the start of Spring until they want me back for training.”

“Oh, good for you.” he said. “I’ve got to be back in a tenday. I'm almost finished up here and then we're just waiting on orders.”

He got back to work and I tried to think of how I would pass the time on the ride home. The way reserve service worked, we had to be active at least one season each year, but we could sign up for more. Most of my decade were full timers, reservists that were active year round because of the war, while I tended to serve the minimum. It was important to do my part to defend the city but I had an apprenticeship to get back to. I rotated out with eight other part-time reservists that I trained with but never fought with. Bottom line was, barring a national emergency, I wouldn't have to see the assholes in my decade for at least a season.

As I enjoyed my apple I retrieved a book I had borrowed for this trip. It was titled Magical Forces and Their Applications and I needed to know it back to front to become a journeyman enchanter. I turned to the section I’d been reading, marked with the mail lending slip from the academy library. I tried to focus through the business of the camp while taking notes about how mages first get power. It was fairly basic stuff that I already knew having grown up in a mage house.

All of my older siblings, and even my younger brother, had gone through an awakening. It tended to happen at moments of heightened emotions. Aostilo awakened during a fight for his life with forest wolves on a hunting trip. The high speed wind he unleashed saved his life. Of course it didn't have to be so extreme. Ingo awakened last year while on a date with a boy he liked. I chuckled at the memory. He’s a metal mage so the couple's armor was stuck together for an hour before they could be pried apart.

“That wouldn't have been so funny if he were a death mage.” I mumbled.

The book had a story of a death mage awakening that killed a dozen people and left behind a kind of poison that made anyone that got near the place sick. Death mages are a kind of nightmare monster in this world. A world with real things much worse than the boogeyman to call nightmares. I want magic. Awakening as a mage would solve so many of my problems and give me the power I needed to stay safe. Or at least safer. But maybe not that kind of magic.

Just then the cart rattled and started to move. I smiled before hearing a strange sound coming from one of the cart's wheel wells. It was a soft, high whining sound of a small animal. I jumped off the back of the cart and called to the driver to stop. He was surprised by the urgency in my voice but quickly pulled on the oxen's ranes. Hopping on one leg I made my way to the side of the cart. I used the cart's edge for balance and ducked down to look behind the wheel. Clinging to the shock absorber springs was a small black cat.

"Hey there." I said softly. "Don't be scared little guy, I'll get you out of there."

I reached behind the wheel and gently retrieved the cat from his hiding spot. I immediately tucked him into the crook of my arm and started petting him. He was wet, had missing patches of fur, and stared at me with a kind of disdainful disinterest. He was adorable.

***

1:142 on the 85th of Fall

The sun set behind the mountain peaks on our third day of travel. The temperature dropped quickly this high in the mountains so I retrieved some of my spare clothing to wrap Schrodinger in. Yes, I named the cat Schrodinger. He reminded me of my old life on Earth. Despite some similarities, this world couldn't have been more different from Earth. My life here was especially different. On Earth I designed electronics for weapon systems. Some may ask, why haven't you just reinvented guns and conquered the world by now? Well, for one thing this world already had guns, even if they were a bit crude. For another, with a few exceptions, all of my skills and knowledge from Earth were based in the computer age. Being able to solve differential equations and program a guidance system didn't exactly transfer to a Renaissance era society. This world barely had clocks and it always made me sad.

Cinder came into view as we descended through a rocky valley. We were above the city so the first thing we saw was the tower of Sol. Sol is a god of the sun and his churches have the best clocks around. Each day starts at sunrise, or more specifically, when the sun strikes the crystal at the top of their clock tower. Days in this world have four quarters, where each quarter is two hundred measures and each measure is one hundred marks. For reference that means a measure is 1.8 minutes and a mark is 1.08 seconds. The actual duration of a day changes, being about a measure short in the fall and a measure long in the spring but it is a pretty consistent system for folks with this level of technology. The priests recalibrates the clocks on the summer and winter solstices and then just resets them to 0:000 at sunrise everyday.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

As more of the city came into view the light continued to dim. As it did, the lights of the city began to come out. This world didn't have electricity but magic made light almost as well. There is a kind of vine plant called bright-leaf that gives off violet tinted light when its roots are near the heat of a fire. It grows rapidly under those conditions and so it has been widely cultivated by humans. In most places it simply provides a bit more light to read by because fuel for fire is still expensive. Cinder, however, is located at the edge of a vast underground coal deposit. In the basement of every building is a smelter or forge that works metal into armor and weapons for the legion. But the fires of war are also used to provide heat and light to the city. For decades the people of Cinder have cultivated vast networks of bright-leaf vines throughout the whole city. Now each sunset reveals a violet glow that would give any modern city skyline a run for its money.

Schrodinger loved it. His head perked up as we neared the city and its lights became clearer. The city walls were a bastion star, with five pointed fortifications arrayed in a semicircle around the northern half of the city. The south was a gigantic open pit mine so, while the walls were twenty meters tall and thick, the south was harder to assault because of a one hundred meter sheer cliff face. The moat was normally empty but I knew that there were pumps that could fill it with caustic mine water. It was a fortress city that had defended the borders of Elementrya for a hundred years.

When the gates opened to bid us welcome Schrodinger jumped out of his bundle to stand on the edge of the cart and look around in wonder. I thought at first that he had come from Cinder with the army to the forward base but this made me think he might be from one of the smaller towns or villages in the area. As we made our way through the streets in one long column I could tell that something was off. There were many, many people lining the sidewalks watching us pass. They looked tired, ragged, and dirty. They carried large packs or bags stuffed to bursting, as if everything they owned was held within.

Cinder was already full of refugees from other lands ravaged by the demon army. This was something else. Most refugees I had seen looked tired but relieved. Cinder welcomed them and put them to work right away in the mines, forges, or farms. It was a hard life but better than being killed. Everyone in this group was on edge. There was fear in their posture and expressions. Eyes darted to the sky and arms crossed defensively. I was getting a bad feeling about this.

***

0:031 on the 86th day of Fall

"The capital has fallen to the demons." said my brother Welant.

We were sitting at the breakfast table in Aegis manor. I got back so late last night that no one but the watch was awake to greet me. After getting Schrodinger set up with a bed, litterbox, and some food I had gone downstairs for my own breakfast. My siblings had welcomed me back with warmth but the mood shifted when I asked about all the new people in the city.

"We got word of its fall just a couple of tendays ago. The refugees have been streaming in ever since." said Welant. "By all accounts, there wasn't even a siege."

Welant was the second oldest of the six of us and was a powerful earth mage. He was unreasonably tall, in my opinion, and had a face made for politics.

"How could that be possible?" I asked. I was dumbfounded. Even a massive army would need to lay siege to breach the walls. Welant looked at Aostilo.

"They say it was a cloud fortress." said Aostilo.

At my confused look he went on.

"A rock the size of a small mountain with a fortress atop it. It came down out of the sky and crushed the royal palace." he said.

I gawked at him. Aostilo was the third oldest and a pretty reserved guy. He had short brown hair and was taller than me but not quite up to Welant’s lofty heights.

"We're preparing for it." said Ingo, reading my grim expression. "Cinder doesn't have any critical targets on the surface like the palace and if we know it's coming we can plan our strategy around it."

He put his hand on my arm reassuringly. Ingo was two years my junior and here he was comforting me. Luckily, Ingo stopped growing when he got as tall as me. He had long brown hair and the features of a pop star.

"What are the Cinderloards doing about the refugee situation?" asked Mistila.

All eyes turned to Welant who was on the council.

"There are just too many to incorporate everyone quickly." he said. "The problem is that they are arriving faster than we can train them to work in our industries. We are falling further behind every day."

He paused to think of how to say the next part.

"There is a program to train mining trainers." he said. "I have been advocating that we spend a few tendays, maybe a half a season, to double or even triple the number of trainers. Then we could actually get ahead of things."

He took a sip of his morning tea.

"This reminds me. Theod and Mistila." he said, looking pointedly at each of us in turn. "Father and I will be hosting a ball for the Fall Festival here at the manor this year. You are both expected to attend."

I was confused and a bit frustrated. Attending a formal ball was the last thing I wanted to do with my time. I had never really fit with the upper crust, including my family. At least since our mother died. I rubbed the scar on my left temple.

"How is the festival even going to happen?" I asked. "A bunch of the traditions are about honoring the kings. Do we even know who is leading the country right now?"

Welant waved his hand in dismissal.

"It will be one of the princes from the royal houses." he said. "They are scattered across the kingdom for this very reason. I imagined that once they figure out who is in charge they will tell the rest of us. It doesn't really matter to Cinder as we are a free city anyway."

I struggled to think of what to say to get me out of this.

"These balls are just organized to set up backroom deals and negotiations. Everyone else is just there for extreme social climbing." I said, trying to sound reasonable.

"What benefit could possibly come from my attendance?" I asked.

"Negotiation is about position and power." said Welant calmly. "Hosting it at the manor provides the right position while having the whole family there shows we have power without actually needing to use it."

"But I don't have any power." I said. "I'm a modest craftsman and a poor soldier. Perhaps you mean for me to highlight all your power in contrast to me?"

Welant just shook his head at that, seeming to be getting exasperated at the conversation.

"It's about unity of purpose brother." said Mistila. "I don't have magic either and you don't see me complaining."

She was the youngest of us. She was just a bit shorter than me and had blonde hair. Though, I was pretty sure she treated it with dyes to make it that exact shade of blond.

"You want to go because there will be dancing." I said with a smile.

After she didn't refute me I took a breath and realized I was just being obtuse at this point.

"Fine. Fine. I will go to the ball." I said.

"Good!" said Welant as he stood.

I stood too but immediately winced in pain.

"Oh, one more thing." said Welant. "Please go see Fonsa about your injuries. It would not do to have you attend a dance with a limp."

Fonsa, the oldest of the bunch, is a life mage and works at a hospital in the central district. As such, she kept odd hours. She was probably still asleep upstairs. I nodded to Welant and made for the kitchen. If I brought Fonsa breakfast and her tea she might agree to heal me while she ate.