“Got afraid?” Azugh asked with a cheeky smile as he noticed Eadwald standing in front of the open doorway to the armory of the village watch. It was one of the few buildings that were built with large marbles the shade of the luminous night. The only building from the days when their ancestors were still building a fortress in this area.
Eadwald looked at his friend and his dry, smooth lips trembled as he the corners bent upwards. “In a way yes. But also excited as strange as it may sound.”
“Not strange at all. Just chose the wrong time to feel like this.” Azugh said as he patted Eadwald on his shoulders that made him hiss as it felt more like being tenderly hit by a log.
“So you went through this too?” Eadwald asked as the slight pain quickly subsided.
“Yeah, but let’s not stay idle anymore. Or you may plant the seeds of doubt in the old men’s hearts.” Azugh’s large hand spread out on his back and easily pushed Eadwald into the soft shadows of the building. Strangely as soon as he crossed the boundary, Eadwald felt his leg muscles loosen up one after the other and could continue on as they walked through the straight corridor with two turns at the end.
**
“Isn’t Uncle Priernuss coming too?” Eadwald asked as he relieved himself from the thick tunic with a high collar that wrapped around his neck.
“Will come. Just probably had a rough morning. He did drink the most from out of all of us.” Ulrich said as Aelfsigior finished strapping the segmented, angular shoulder plates and handed the Phalarea to Ulrich. Phalarea were nine thick disk with each having the symbol of the Deossos and the Almodo engraved in their deep silver surface held together by chains.
He thanked the aevhe and walked to his son to help him dress up into the armor as he just finished slipping into the snow silvery thick chatonic tunic with a shawl like neck to protect against the harsh cold of the north – and against the blade of an assassin. “Now turn around.”
“Oh morning sunshine!” Ashnan, the Szeakrin member of the group greeted Priernuss who just arrived still carried the suffocating stench of a heartfelt night.
Szeakrin’s were the native merfolks of the northern seas and waters with a history similar to the orkhin. Many of them served in the legions of the Solemn King, and after His banishment were punished to serve for twenty centuries before they could walk freely and sinful amongst the other races.
Unlike their southern kin, Szeakrins had less glamorous appearance thanks to their eons long service and devotion to the Solemn King and his fallen ilk. Their scales were faded, dry but also strong like bones of the undead, with hues ranging from pale white to a cold hue akin to the frost covering the lakes, or floating above water on rivers. Elongated, slit contoured eyes with shades of white and blue except the center, a large black hole that was ready to swallow all.
The back of his head covered in bone like extension that took the shape of northern coral – sharp, serrated edges from which long wet-appearing dreads fallen onto his muscled back with various ring ornaments of ivory kind.
“Do not speak of sunshine. On these mornings I wish for eternal night.” Priernuss said as he snapped his finger. Water appeared from under his pores and swiftly engulfed his body – the stench that permeated from him vanished and his tired expression turned to a freshened.
“Neat trick. Can you teach it to me one day?” Eadwald asked after smelling his own armpits that made his handsome face contort.
“Maybe one day. This one needs a lot of practice, otherwise you may end up scaring your mother and father.” Priernuss said as he started stripping himself of his vibrant attire – and recalled his first try of this spell. Which resulted in his fellow legionaries bringing him to the nearest healer as his whole body resembled an almost mummified husk that reeked of the late stages of death.
“Speaking of practice – I also made a golem for Sigi to train his aim on.” As he remembered he turned to Ulrich as he spoke.
“Do you have to practice your aim for spells?” Eadwald asked as he turned to his father than to Priernuss while the chest piece got fastened to his body.
“Yes. You see monsters, undead and such beings can sense when a magus is aiming for them. In a similar vein, a proper magus can also sense when they are targeted.” Ulrich said as he checked if the plate was in its proper place.
“And there are those master magussos who veil their spells. But that is a rare thing to experience in these peaceful times.” Priernuss added as he slipped into his chatonic tunic.
“What’s that?” Azugh asked as he watched Eadwald put on a necklace made from chiseled stone that vaguely resembled a dragon’s head.
Before he answered he reached into his discarded breeches and pulled out another. This one resembled a quite misshapen wolf and handed it to Azugh. “Sigi made them as good luck charms for us.”
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Azugh watched the corners of his mouth curved up while a weird sensation burnt his belly. “You should talk to him. He still feels responsible and thinks that you hate him.” He added as Azugh took the necklace and put it over before he fitted his helmet onto his head.
“I know. Its just weird that he is…” He started speaking then stopped.
“Still a child?” Ulrich interjected with a warming expression. “It is weird, but better will get better once they catch up.”
“Did you have such a friend too?” Azugh asked.
“I had quite a few in fact. There was Gudrail who started out as our big brother we asked constantly about the forest, fights and such stuff, then as time passed, we left him behind in more than many ways.” Ulrich said with a nostalgic tone and expression while he looked at his aevhen friend fastening the vambrace onto his right arm.
“What? Being better with a blade doesn’t count when I never intended to use on.” Aelfsigior said as he grabbed his long spear with a dry groan as he misunderstood the gaze directed at him.
“Why a spear?” Azugh asked as he held his double edged axe in one, exceedingly muscled arm of his.
Aelfsigior raised his sharp line of a right eyebrow. “Because I aspire to live exceptionally long life just like the Mourning Blade of the Empire.”
“And distance is the most important factor for any who aims to gain glory and survive.” Priernuss answered much more plainly.
**
“What are you practicing?” Amiriniel asked as she approached Sigiwaer kneeling down in the mud and snow with a serious expression as he was in deep thoughts before she interrupted them.
“Uncle Priernuss said that practicing on a target that can move and even shoot back at m...” Sigiwaer said but before he could finish the miniature featureless golem shot a mud ball that hit his left cheek. It exploded and covered the left side of his soft face starting to show faint, but sharp aevhen cheekbones. The mud then started condensing back into its spherical form and flew right back into its handless arm and rejoined the rest of the animated mud.
“What kind of maghia is that?” Amiriniel asked as she scraped her chin pondering and leaned a bit closer.
“He said it is categorized as false life. A rare type atop some further inscription that veil the flow of mana.” Sigiwaer said as he massaged his own cheek that ached slightly from the hit.
False Life was an art of maghia that belonged to the aspect of will and creativity merged with the aspect of mind by combining parcium matter and psiorn energy from the arkhaine points. By combining these two essential existential energies found in all living beings – and to an extent in the undead – magusos place them into puppets and sever the unseen string of forced will, resulting in the creation of a golem.
“I see. Can I try?” Amiriniel asked after Sigiwaer finished his explanation Priernuss said to himself before he rushed to the armory.
“Sure. I think.” Sigi nodded a bit uncertain. But the golem seemed to recognize her and bowed to her just like to him.
Her eyes fixated onto the small mud golem and she cracked her delicate fingers in preparation as her mana started flowing like a river within her animus’s veins, between each of the nine arkhaine points. As her eyes lit up in an ethereal light, she raised palm over her face while a yelp followed as a mud ball hit her cheeks just like with Sigi.
“You felt something?” Sigi asked while leaning against the cold walls of their homestead.
“Just a faint presence. But I’m not sure if that was it casting the spell or just Priernuss’s will. Have you tried with your eye?” She turned to him and asked.
Sigi shook his head slowly. “Don’t really want to rely on this for now. At least until the vicar confirms the source of it.”
“Good. Even if it is a gift of one of the Deossos, better to learn these things by yourselves.” At Mirdbruil’s words the two turned to her and Sigi cleaned of his thick robe.
“Is it time already mother?” Amiriniel asked as she searched for the sun up in the sky. Her left cheek puffed out as she looked at her nodding head.
“The golem will await you.” As she said those words, the mud golem jumped onto Sigi’s shoulder that made the little boy chuckle a little before he walked up and grabbed Mirdbruil’s soft, warm hand.
**
A small crowd assembled at Autharsovath’s northern square – buildings lined in an uneven circle around the well with an Vizstone embedded in its bottom that generated water for the village. Folk of all kinds and ages lined up to bid good luck to the small group set out to with the youth to prove themselves.
“Can’t wait to see my little boar in armor.” Shad’Yrg – the mate of Gna and rough yet gentle mother of Azugh – said with excitement and pride plastered onto her grim orkhish visage. Her braided thick dark hair fell onto her well-honed shoulders draped in layers of thick fur pelt and linen robe reaching down to her ankles.
“We’re the same. Am I right kids?” Mirdbruil said with Sigi now locking his arms around her neck as he hanged onto her shoulders to see through the crowd. Amiriniel whom reached up to her mother’s waist stood on her right while leaning out as she searched for the group to appear at the stairs leading down the small hill the village was built upon. Both nodded as their expressions were overflown with anticipation.
Then finally the crowd went silent for a moment at the approaching sound of the armor clanking, wet steps as the greaves clad feet sunk into the melted mud and still thick snow. Sigi’s eyes lit up even more as he saw the armored figures of Aelfsigior and Ashnan leading in the front appear.
Behind them, were Gna who felt a bit awkward when his dearest wife yelled up in heat seeing him all armored up, beside him Ulrich who met the gaze of his children first then his beautiful aevhen wives’ whose smile increased his confidence even more. Right behind them followed Azugh and Eadwald whom appeared like meek animals when realization hit them regarding the march from the village.
The two met Sigi’s excited gaze and his smiled widened, his eyes became a little teary as he saw the haphazardly made – with the help of Ulrich and Mirbruil – dangle, clank against the alabaster angular plates of their chest piece. “See I told you. He is not angry at you.” Mirdbruil words calmed his little heart even more as he started waving as they reached closer.
As the two passed by them, they waved back at them before they focused back to matching the pace of the small company before they marched out the gates. “May the Warweaver guide us through! May our ancestors shield us! May the Almodo grant his mercy upon us! Forward my proud warriors!” Aelfsigior’s voice echoed through the village and the vast snow covered scenery in front of the forest where the party stood still. They all shouted the same words before their march began anew towards the eerie forest.