Atal waited until we'd returned to the last village we'd visited to speak with me, for which I was grateful, as it gave me time to organize my thoughts. He was as distant as always, but a few times I caught him looking at me, watching me, surely something was on his mind.
The two of us found a hut, and others were banished from it, or even near it. Atal clearly wanted privacy.
“That shield, what was it?” he asked, eyes reflecting the small fire between us.
“Layers, with nothing in between, or as near to nothing as I could manage,” I answered truthfully.
“Nothing? Just layers? Justin this makes no sense, that woman was far more powerful than you, she should have easily destroyed any defense you made. I should have been the only one to leave that battlefield when it was done.” It wasn't said as if he wanted it, or desired it, or disliked it, just that it was, that was how things were.
After a bit of consideration I came to the conclusion that he was probably right too. That woman wasn't as strong as he was, and in time he might have won, but the rest of us? No, we'd probably be dead, at least more of us than already were, perhaps even all of us by the time it was done.
“Think... like the ocean, that is what sound is like,” I explained. “There is stuff in the air, stuff that carries it, by removing that stuff there was nothing for her sound to move, so it stopped. Eventually more stuff reached it, but until then the barrier held.”
As I explained I made a small illusion, just lines and dots. It was primitive, but perhaps something he could follow without more explanation.
“Stuff in the air? Nonsense, there is nothing there,” the ancient objected.
“Then what is wind?” I asked.
That set him to thinking for a long time.
“The air is like water?” he asked.
“Sort of, much thinner of course, but much like water. You could say that birds are swimming in it like fish do in the ocean. It is much the same.”
Now he fixed me with an appraising look. “How do you know this? My father told me when I was young that birds flew because that was their nature, like we build and speak. Who told you different? Not your village, for I knew Elaya and she held no such beliefs. I knew her since long before you were born.”
Crap. Part of the problem of having elves that lived for literal centuries was that if they lived even remotely near one another there was a nearly one-hundred percent chance that they'd know each other. Perhaps he hadn't spoke to Elaya in fifty years, but with our memories it wouldn't matter. Did I lie and perhaps gain his ire? Perhaps a partial truth then.
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“There are some secrets I wish to keep, but once, a long time ago I ate a fruit, one I'd never seen before or since. It was foolish, but I had my reasons and it changed things, made me change, and because of it I see things differently.”
I waited, and waited as he watched me, trying not to sweat under the gaze of an ancient monster who could rip me apart. Eventually all things came together though, and he sighed.
“Boy, you are a thousand years too young to lie to me, but you're lucky, I like you. Well, like is perhaps strong, but you are useful. The how and why of your abilities are secondary to me right now. Right now I need the what, as in, what do you know that can help push back this invasion.” It wasn't lost on me that he had said 'right now' but that was something.
“There are things we could do to protect the villages but I think that's not our first concern. They're using children, which means they don't have enough soldiers. From what the one I spoke to said they're holding the families captive, if we free those, we've turned half of their people or more.” That was the first thought I had, though there were others.
“Agreed, they are desperate, the woman they sent was the clearest indication of that.” For a moment I looked at him and he explained. “I am here because these are my lands, but her? She should be at home. Children born to strong parents tend to be stronger, not by much, but by enough, and it is always females who limit growth, not those like you and I. Sending her here meant they couldn't field another potent commander for this area, not that they didn't want to.”
“You think they'd do that?”
“I once tried to have as many children as I could in a year. Do you know how many I managed?” he asked. That was surprising, but not alarming after all many men through my own history with power like his were womanizers, and I knew he could have about as many as he wanted. “Eight, impressive I know, and it took me all year doing almost nothing else. It was only because I had just as many women as I did around that I managed such an insane number. Though admittedly afterwards I lost most of my taste for them.”
“Eight.” That seemed really low, even with our low birth rates.
“That reaction there, you're not surprised at all. One day I'll have to find out why,” he said with half a smile.
I needed to change the subject, and now. “As for things we can do for the villages,” I said as I began to draw some designs in the dirt. “We can make quick and easy walls like this, just logs with dirt piled behind them. It won't stop the enemy for long, but even a few moments. We can also build higher places to watch from, where fires can be lit if something happens. That will at least let us know that something is wrong. How close they got to here without anyone knowing was not good.” He knew of walls of course, but the design was a bit different than was used in the city, though as far as I knew nobody used towers for communication or watching, trees perhaps, or high places, but not structures.
“Good, what about something to fight with?” he asked.
“Those slings I made are easy and quick. They're not as good as powerful people, but a rock to the head kills almost anyone who isn't prepared for it or like you,” I reasoned.
“See, that is why I brought you along Justin. Now let's rest, tomorrow you're going to teach the people here how to do those things.”
The next day was a rush, a mad one. I needed to get people working early and fast, not something that meshed well with the very laid back lifestyle that most lived. Magic helped, a lot, and with the number of powerful magic users we had on hand much of the work could be brute forced quickly.
Slings were the easiest part, just a straight stick with notches and some twine and you could make one in under an hour. I showed them, pointing out the issues they might find. It would take them a long time to get good, but a stone baseball was still a stone baseball and it could kill one of the child soldiers we'd fought yesterday.
Then came the walls, and here magic was key. It was just a berm, simple as I could make it, and wouldn't stand up to much, but seconds might save lives. It would at least give people something to hide behind that might be able to stop spells. Most of our enemy's magic users weren't all that experienced, so it should work.
Finally we worked on the tower, and I was reminded once more of my many lacking skills. I wasn't an architect, and this thing needed to get over the trees. Unsure I just put in as many supports as seemed reasonable and hoped for the best, because that was all I had. It stood in the village's clearing, with a fire on top to light, heck not knowing what it was for our enemy might burn it down, which would work just as well. Smoke would be visible a very long way off during the day, and a high light at night would serve the same. If every village had one then perhaps one of their neighbors could see it, if it was high enough.
The whole time I was watched, watched by one of the many other fighters brought along, watched by Atal himself. They were examining me, grading me, seeing what I could do. I didn't know if I passed or not in the end, but I was satisfied by the end of the day that I'd done what I could.