It had been days since the city of euphonies fell silent. Everyone across Ludceta awoke to find that all connections to all of Lidantium’s Praeterium Gates were severed. Concerned friends and family made attempts at contacting those who resided in the city or those who were visiting for festivities. Instead of finding the thoughts of their loved ones, they were met with silence. When the Magisterium investigated, cautiously searching through the mindscapes of Roya, their worst fears had been confirmed. The consciousnesses of all of Lidantium’s people had gone. Only a thick haze of unreadable impulses remained in their place. It was a sure sign that Daimons had attacked the city, but for this threat to have destroyed a heavily guarded city within Ludceta’s borders was unheard of. The Magisterium quickly made their move, first spreading the news and evacuating the surrounding settlements before closing off the region around Lidantium. Scouts were dispatched days ahead.
Then came the legion. Men and women adorned in wavering cloaks and mail marched through the path to Lidantium. They had arrived through the Praeterium Gates of Lumis to the closest city of Solerianum. From there, they traveled by Muskulos carriages to the edge of the Aracean Forest. They left their vehicles to return to the elements and continued on foot. The paths within the thick forest had been cultivated only for small groups of Druidii to traverse through, so the legion had taken on the formation of a long, thin line. Had this been any other forest, a wider path would have been cleared, but this forest was frequented by the Druidii who remained regardless of Daimon presence - to harm their forests would certainly provoke them. A fight with them would be foolish and completely unnecessary. It was best that Focus was reserved for the Daimons ahead.
At the tail, there was the last cohort donned in black cloaks. The 13th were as vigilant as the rest of the line. None had sensed a single threat during their journey but since they were within the exclusion zone in what was already dangerous territory, they remained cautious.
Adonis looked to the side suddenly, as if sensing something. His dark eyes began to illuminate faintly with rotating symbols as he scanned through the many shades of green and blue.
“What is it, Ado?” whispered Rufinus, “Druidii? Daimons?”
Some had begun to search through the trees but Adonis rested his eyes to recover his Focus and shook his head. Everyone around him sighed in relief. Whatever it was, it had gone by now. If it were Druidii, the trees would have already closed in on the legion. If it had been Daimons, the forest would have been scarred and twisted with their presence. He concluded it must have been an animal, though he noted it was odd that it hadn't fled the area yet. Perhaps it was blind, unthinking. An undesirable host.
“D-don't scare us like that, Ado…” said Valerian.
“Must be the nerves,” Rufinus chuckled. “I suppose we’re all feeling a bit jumpy.”
He had been right. Since stepping foot within the excluded region, everyone felt tense and that terrible feeling only grew with every step towards Lidantium. Valerian sighed before closing his eyes and opening them to Roya. He was in the midst of forming a Soothe Spell to put the men at ease but a tap on his shoulder pulled him back to Tirra.
“Reserve your focus,” said Adonis. “We’ll need it when we reach the city.”
“You can t-talk,” Valerian humphed, “Weren't you wasting your Focus on a… a woodmouse a minute ago?”
“He's right, you know,” Rufinus smirked.
An annoyed look crossed Adonis’ face. He relented in silence, resting his eyes whilst Valerian put everyone at ease. His mind was cast upon what he had seen. It certainly wasn't a woodmouse. He knew that it was something small. Something in flight. A newborn tree seedling? Or some other benign something. It was an inconsequential thing, perhaps, but it bothered him that he hadn't gotten a clear look at it.
The three had been friends since their Collegium days. When the Daimon attacks began, all Collegium-educated mages were swiftly sent to train in the legions. Because of their circumstances, Adonis, born with mixed Draekslanni and Ludcetan ichor, and Rufinus, a Vattirmanni, were automatically placed in the 13th Cohort along with the other so-called non-Ludcetans. The only exception to this was Valerian. Coming from a respectable Scholarly family, he was meant for the 6th Cohort as a Soother in addition to a soldier, but due to his terrible performance during training, he was put in with the other fodder. In spite of that, he didn't seem too upset about the ordeal; as long as he was among friends, he felt safer.
At the head of the legion, Magister Bellaxus Lucianus Pelecanus Laevinus had neared the edge of the forest’s clearing. He leaned forward slightly and swept his nerve-scarred hand across his Monoceros’ neck.
“Slow, Nethuns.”
The horned steed obeyed with cautious steps and in turn, the troops behind them slowed. As the thick trees cleared from view, the 1st cohort stopped. The fresh and battle-hardened alike all stared with the same wide-eyed horror at the sight before them. Only Laevinus and Nethuns remained unfazed.
Lidantium had been like many of the other grand metropolises across Ludceta. Its magnificent tower districts stretched high but its most significant feature was its hollow passages and great domes that had been shaped to carry sounds all across the region. Its endless music could be heard even faintly from the region around Lumis (which was rather far). Now there was only a twisted mound, webbed in throbbing veins that pulsed with intense violet light. The same terrible quiet that settled around the region was at its loudest.
“By Magus…”
Laevinus turned to the trembling Tribunus beside him. There was a stern look on his face that remained when he closed his eyes.
“Steady yourself, Pavonikos,” he spoke into his mind. “For the men and women’s sake.”
Tribunus Virgilius nodded and Laevinus led them onward. Waves upon waves of soldiers were met with the sight and all recoiled. If it weren’t for the Soothers, many would have turned and ran. The Cohors Malefica were the last to see the ruined city. The same terrified looks crossed their faces. Even Adonis’ inexpressive exterior faltered. He, and the few other Draekslanni in his contingent, not only felt the same strange terror that the rest did, but a kind of sudden pain. He almost doubled over mid-march until his two friends caught him. Valerian attempted to soothe his mind but it had no effect on the pain he felt.
“W-what's wrong, A-Ado?!” Valerian blinked.
“It's nothing…”
He rubbed his eyes but it didn’t help. Neither did any of the healing spells. He felt old frustrations rise up again. It was an ache coming from eyes that he had not opened for a long time. Rufinus tapped him on the back.
“Don’t give us that… Look. Let me see.”
“You’re no healer. Just keep marching.”
The entire cohort began to hear a loud voice in their heads.
“What are you doing? Stop slacking off and get back into formation!”
Duxus Gallus continued to repeat himself until the stragglers marched back into their positions.
Rufinus gritted his teeth. His friend had pushed his arm and Valerian’s off from his shoulders.
“Save your fire for the Daimons,” Adonis said, “The cock’s not worth your focus.”
He got to his feet, straightening up and matching the pace of his line.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine marching?” asked Rufinus.
“The pain’s gone away,” he said. The ache persisted though he had gotten used enough to the discomfort to get to his feet again. By then, it felt like background noise.
“You’re a b-bad liar as always… A-Ado,” said Valerian. “What you need is… uh… to sit down.”
An annoyed look crossed Adonis’ face as his friends fussed over him.
“I wish Strixius were here.”
“What difference would that make? He would have said the same thing. We can’t lag behind.”
“I know… But I’d trust Strixus with my life over this cock. He’d care.”
The 13th shared the same sentiment. Duxus Marcus Strixius was supposed to be leading them. From humble beginnings from a lenscrafter family, he had enrolled in the Bellaxii during the end of Vattirheim wars. He was firm but he had been much kinder to these outcasts, training them from the very beginning and treating them fairly. But when news came that Lidantium had fallen, he had disappeared with it; for he had been visiting his only family there. He had hoped to bring his sister to Lumis the day after his visit. Unfortunately that day never came to pass.
Each cohort found a spot along the edge of the treeline, forming a curve overlooking the silenced city. The soldiers were relieved to finally rest their legs but being this close to Lidantium meant that they could not put their minds at rest, even with the Soothers doing their best to keep their fellow soldiers calm. The 13th cohort was the last one to find a spot. The Draekslanni among them had happily collapsed to the ground whilst the few expert healers in the cohort did their best to ease the pain. Both Rufinus and Valerian took it upon themselves to help their friend.
“Is that b-better?”
“No.”
The pain remained, leaving the healers quite baffled. They thought their Draekslanni companions were pretending to be in pain but Rufinus and Valerian knew Adonis well enough to know when he was hiding his pain.
“This is beyond either of us,” said Rufinus, “We need a Magister here.”
“I'll be fine,” Adonis said, sitting up. “I just need to-”
He was cut off by the sound of a rough sounding voice.
“Did I say you could sit? Get in formation!”
At once all of the Cohors Malefica stood back up and organised themselves into neat rows. Approaching them was a tall man wearing a black cloak over red. His features were engraved with deep lines criss-crossing his face, making him look beyond his years.
“Do you think you deserve rest…” he sneered, walking across the line of soldiers. He looked each of them up and down,“...when it was you Maleficari that let the Daimons in?”
Everyone’s faces darkened but none looked as furious as Rufinus. His eyes shimmered with fury.
“D-don’t…” Valerian whispered.
He shut his eyes too late, for Rufinus’ mouth had already opened.
“We didn’t cause this!”
Silence. Adonis, Valerian and the others closest to Rufinus set their wide eyes upon him.
“WHO SAID THAT?! Step forward this instant!”
For a time, none had stepped forth. The longer this went on, Gallus continued to shout. Rufinus began to step forward before he was stopped by a cold grip around his hand. He turned to see Adonis, slowly turning his head.
“Too cowardly to own up? If you don’t come out here right now, I’ll discipline all of you!”
Rufinus pulled his hand away. The soldiers parted for him and returned to their positions. Adonis and Valerian could only watch from their line. Gallus turned around the moment he heard Rufinus’ steps. A disgusted look crossed his face.
“Of course it had to be a Vattirmannii dog.”
Rufinus’ fire opal eyes sparked with rage. Deep creases formed around his eyes.
“It’s Rufinus Phoinikos,” he answered.
“Phoinikos, eh? So what? You think you’re one of us just because the Magisterium were so merciful? You’re just an undisciplined pet.”
Rufinus gritted his teeth. Heat radiated from him but he kept the flames in.
“What? You think you can kill me? You wouldn’t even dare.”
Rufinus stared at him for a long while. He shut his eyes.
Gallus looked at him smugly.
“Thought so.”
Gallus’ shimmering aqua eyes flashed bright gold. A whip of air and light struck at Rufinus’ face, sending his hat flying. Briefly his mind was sent reeling, overwhelmed with muddled thoughts. After he gathered himself, he felt an ache in his mind; his very essence had been burned, leaving a gash in his thoughts and unprotected memories. Tension fell among the soldiers, but the tension was felt at its heaviest around Adonis. His frigid demeanour had sublimated.
Rufinus eyes flickered weakly with gold, putting his Focus into his translucent shield, but no matter what he tried, he could not visualise the spell. Gallus shot him a warning glare and Rufinus met his eyes directly. Flames threatened to pour out of those fire opal eyes.
“What? You want to kill me, Warg-Eyes? You wouldn’t even dare.”
Rufinus’ eyes twitched. Heat radiated from him. There was a change in his expression: fear. He turned, shutting his eyes and turning away.
“Thought so.”
Gallus smirked before turning to his men.
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“Your previous Duxus was too soft on you. If I had it my way, I would have trained you properly. By Kaeva… There are some of you who would be better off with your eyes sealed.”
Valerian pulled Adonis back. He closed his eyes, using a soothing spell on him. It worked somewhat. Adonis took a deep breath, exchanging a thankful glance. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. His eyes focused on the Duxus, noticing that he seemed to blink from his own whip’s wind.
Gallus looked back down at the red haired mage. His eyes began to glow gold with the light of Paradis. He extended his hand in front of him, visualising his weapon.
“Look everyone and remember this well! Any dog that steps out of line…”
A long strip of bright light snaked down from his hand. He gripped it tight, drawing his arm back.
“... gets the whip!”
Gallus threw his arm forward. Rufinus flinched and braced himself but he felt no impact from the essence-burning whip. He looked up to see the Duxus’ arm stop short, whipping up the air above him whilst madly blinking and crying out in surprise. A burst of cold wind had blown directly on his eyes. The rope of intense light began to dim in his hand. After blinking out the dryness from his eyes, he shot around, red with rage and shouting incoherently.
“For someone who barks about discipline, I thought you’d have just as much to keep your eyes open.”
Gallus whipped around. He saw one soldier step out of line. The blue outline of a spell faded from the soldier’s eyes - black like the deep unknown realm of Kaeva - and remained directly affixed to Gallus’ own; he was challenging him. Gallus’ eyes glowed white with rage.
“Do you have a death wish, Matiasma? State your name!”
“Adonis Tyto,” the black-eyed mage answered plainly.
Gallus smiled in disbelief. Why would someone from one of the Great Scholarly Houses be in this cohort? He could hardly believe that someone with eyes like those would even belong to one of those families. He looked up to the band of his hat and his smirk fell; the mage before him had the distinct emblem of an owl surrounded by Elecule branches engraved on the band. He really was a Tyto. He grinned again when he remembered a certain bit of gossip from some time ago.
“A Tyto? Oh… You must be the mongrel born of their heretic son.”
There was a small twitch around Adonis’ eyes but he remained straight-faced. He wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction.
“And you must be the failure sent to lead the fodder.”
“You have some nerve!” the Duxus held back, falling back into a sneer. He’d relish his rage later, “So, half-serpent. Would you rather take this man’s place?”
Adonis looked at the coughing mage at his feet. Rufinus shook his head, pleading with his friend to step back in line. His friend did not relent; he knew that look in his eyes all too well.
“Don’t do it. Please…”
Instead, Adonis got on his knees and looked up at Gallus in defiance. His shield dissipated and he closed his eyes.
“If it will get you to stop barking, gladly.”
“You damned mutt!”
He braced himself for maddening pain to take hold. Instead, he heard a voice stop the crack of the whip.
“Duxus Galus, what’s the meaning of this?”
A Tribunus adorned in shimmering white cloth and a flowing red cloak over lamellar armour, trotted over with his Monoceros. They dismounted their companion and approached the men. They wore a hat banded with ichorsteel laurel leaves atop their golden hair. At its centre was the engraving of a peafowl; an all-knowing bird with its many eyes open wide to the truths of the world. The rim of his hat was tipped back to reveal his gold-nacreous eyes.
“Tribunus Virgilius Pavonikos,” the Duxus bowed, lowering his eyes, “I was disciplining my men. You know how these Matiasma are.”
The Tribunus looked towards the men. Their attention fell on Rufinus, who was still nursing his poorly healed wound; superficially, the flesh had healed to the best of his ability but the Tribunus could see a small gash in his essence. They crouched over to Rufinus, eyes aglow as they focused on the wound. The pain subsided and his essence had been woven back together. When the Tribunus held their hand to help him up, Rufinus found himself even more bewildered than when his essence had been burned. He took their hand; he had meant to thank him but he couldn’t get the words out.
“What did you do to warrant such a punishment, soldier?”
“I spoke out of line. It won't happen again, sir.”
Pavonikos looked at him and the rest of the 13th cohort carefully.
“The soldiers are meant to be resting. Why are they still standing?”
Gallus stammered, “They were out of line, Tribunus. They’re an unruly bunch and this man is proof of it.”
The Tribunus closed their eyes to Tirra and opened their Royan ones. Rufinus felt that all too familiar feeling of someone probing around in his mindscape. The memory was too recent for him to protect like the rest. Pavonikos very briefly glanced at Gallus before turning to the other soldier.
“And you?”
“I was defending my friend. He did nothing wrong by speaking the truth.”
The Duxus opened his mouth to say something but Pavonikos raised their hand.
“What truth did he speak for him to be punished so severely?”
“We did not start this war.”
The Tribunus said nothing. Though they had stepped out of line, both men had answered truthfully, and Pavonikos’ probing had shown them the full picture. The Tribunus finally closed their eyes.
“Your methods are too excessive, Duxus Tullus Gallus Caparius.”
The general’s expression remained stern and he replied aloud, “Tribunus, it’s discipline. If my predecessor had been firmer, these Maleficari…”
Pavonikos’ eyes opened and they exchanged a stern look.
“I understand you place great importance on discipline, Duxii. However, we need these men and women in good condition. You mustn't let your prejudices cloud your judgement.”
The Duxii made an agitated noise but held back. He disliked being told how to lead, but even so, he would not dare go against rank, let alone the son of a High Magister. Trying his best to not sound so flustered, he went on, “Of course, sir, but…”
“Leave these men to rest, Duxus Gallus. You’d do well to heed Magister Bellaxus Laevinus’ order. Look after your soldiers.”
Pavonikos scanned through the ranks, noticing something in Adonis and his other fellow Draekslanni. They called them over, each assessing all of them.
“You’re in pain. What’s causing it?”
Some of the soldiers' faces fell at their question. They could tell what they were thinking without even needing to peek into their minds. “You’re the expert healer. Shouldn’t you be giving us the answer to that?”
“It’s our Matiasma,” answered Adonis.
“Don’t call it that,” Pavonikos said, still focusing on tracing the source of the pain. “When did you start feeling this pain in your Sealed eyes?”
Each answered truthfully. It had begun the moment they crossed the threshold and set their eyes upon Lidantium. The corners of Gallus’ mouth twitched into a nervous smirk; this was all the validation he needed to confirm his worst fears; there was a connection between the Drake-worshippers and the Daimons. And yet, the Tribunus didn’t appear frightened, but curious. The gold-pearl of their eyes shimmered with several symbols, each covering the men and women with warm light. The pain in their Sealed Eye numbed until it was a barely noticeable tingle.
“This feeling in your Sealed Eyes may prove useful. It may even be a lifesaver for all of us coming forward.”
The Tribunus climbed back atop his monoceros in one swift movement. “Magister Bellaxus Lucianus Pelecanus Laevinus wishes to meet all Bellaxii and Duxii in Roya. I suggest you prepare your tent, Duxus Tullus Gallus Caparius.”
The Tribunus rode toward the next cohort. No doubt, he had been sent to assess the legion by the Magister Bellaxus himself. The Cohors Malefica were thankful that a Tribunus that merciful had been sent.
All had finally begun to rest, recovering their stamina and Focus. The red velvet-grass below them, a welcome cushion that formed the border between the forest’s influence and the corruption not too far away. Some still had the appetite to summon their own food and drink. The others found other ways to distract themselves.
Rufinus stared out to Lidantium.
“All of those people,” Rufinus trailed off, heart heavy.
“D-don't look at it too long,” said Valerian.
“Easier said than done,” said Adonis, who was trying to rest his eyes. He was faced away from the city.
Rufinus nodded then sighed.
“I just can’t believe that a place like Lidantium was attacked. Right at the heart of Ludcetan territory no less…“
Lidantium was as well-guarded as the cities of Ludceta but as they were always protected by the border city of Soleranium and the forests, they hadn’t expected any kind of invasion. Such invasions by Tirrans or Daimons would have hit the border cities first. If it had gone that way, it would have helped Lidantium to prepare. Unfortunately, it seemed they had been caught completely by surprise.
“I-It’s hard to feel safe anywhere these days, Rufus. I heard the last wars were… uh… bad enough. B-but this…” Valerian cut himself off, sighing. “I shan’t g-go on. I’m s-supposed to be helping keep everyone c-calm, n-not adding to the anxiety.”
The other two silently agreed with their companion. With the knowledge they possessed, humans were already capable of doing so much damage. An army could crush a poorly defended settlement in hours. They had seen it first hand. However, none were capable of the unrestrained destruction wrought by the Daimons. A single Daimon could render entire lands corrupted in the blink of an eye.
Why was the city destroyed this way? And why hadn’t the Daimons continued spreading outward whilst they had the advantage? Most importantly, how did they get in?
There was only one way they'd know they'd find out. They would have to enter the city to answer at least one of those questions. Unease was setting in again.
Adonis’ eyes glowed. Rufinus’ hat was reconstructed right on top of his head. It was a perfect replica of his original hat, down to the emblem of the eternal firebird. Rufinus smiled thankfully at his friend. Adonis returned with a small nod.
Rufinus wrapped his arms around his friends, “We'll make it through this. I promise you, we'll be back in Lumis drinking Ichor Falernum in the Garden District.”
“M-Magus… I wish I knew how to m-make some.”
Adonis’ eyes were aglow. Before them, three glass cups materialised from the unsullied soil. Each cup was filled with light fluid. It didn't have the deep golden hue that Ichor Falernum had but it was much appreciated.
“You're getting better at Culinamancy, Ado. Slightly earthy but at least it doesn’t taste like dirt,” Rufinus chuckled.
“I-I think the earthiness makes it… unique.”
Adonis rolled his eyes but smiled slightly at that. He didn't want to admit it but he had spent a little more Focus on making the drink this time. If this was going to be their last drink, it might as well be his best.
“You both should spend some time learning the culinary arts when we get back home. Unless you want to keep putting up with my dirt loaves on our next dispatch.”
The other two agreed with that sentiment. They continued with more lighthearted chatter; they appreciated anything that would alleviate the nervousness they were feeling now that they were this close to experiencing their first battle. Eventually, the group and the rest of the troops acknowledged what lay not too far from them; the clear violet skies and fair weather that was almost constant in this part of Tirra took on a reddish hue around that quiet city. It was troubling, especially amongst the many soldiers that had been to Lidantium. Some still had family there. Some still called it home. The shadows of its mighty towers had stretched out enough to loom over the resting men and women.
“Do you think anyone survived?”
Rufinus’ question remained unsaid. It wasn’t something that anyone wanted to dwell on. Survivors of Daimon attacks were a rarity but there was a sliver of a chance that they were still there. It was just that those who did survive were rarely left unscathed.
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Magister Bellaxus Laevinus was in his tent. He rubbed at the ends of the root-like scars on his hand. The meeting with the Duxii and other Bellaxii had ended on a grim note. Just when they thought they could predict what the Daimons would do next, they would completely throw them through a loop. Daimons were smart but usually savage in their approach, rendering everything they tore through into golden viscera and dust. Destruction seemed to be all that they knew... Until now. Those strange vessels that pulsed with light were entirely new. In truth he and the others knew that the entire legion was sent to study as well as eliminate the threat. He knew from experience, what the High Magisters were expecting from him and his men would be near impossible to do both in a new situation such as this.
Daimons had always appeared where fear and strife were strongest, requiring large groups of thinking creatures in order to cross over from Kaeva. They traveled in and out of Roya and Tirra, but they always appeared in the mindscapes of Roya, just waiting for someone to let them in. Fauna were common victims of these creatures for that very reason. A Daimon invasion of this scale was always led by a Caputidaimon or a Princidaimon. The only difference between the two was their predictability. Caputidaimons often attacked in great hordes with the intelligence of a competent Duxus. Princidaimons were less predictable, coming in alone or in legions of their own but wreaking a lot of damage. The scariest of reports and testimonies was their ability to possess humans. Only one human had ever been possessed by such a Daimon, and that human was believed to have let the Daimons cross over into Magus. Yet, none had known how that rogue scholar had managed to get himself possessed. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that a Daimon of that status could infiltrate a Ludcetan city known for its good spirits.
The legion was to enter through the main gate. The 12th cohort would be left behind on the outskirts to construct containment shield markers around the city and wait. Should the Daimons try to spread out of the city, they would raise the shields.
Laevinus rubbed his temples.
“Salve, Magister Bellaxus.”
Pavonikos was at the door of his tent, bowing with his eyes cast down. They were younger than Bellaxus was when he first saw battle. Like many of the men and women drafted into the legions, the Tribunus was too young for war.
“Tribunus Virgilius Pavonikos. At ease.”
Pavonikos saw the worry hidden in Laevinus’ stern expression.
“I've finished my assessment of the troops. All are well and fully supplied with Focus potions. Well, besides a few from the 13th Cohort.”
The Bellaxus lifted his head. Not another problem. He couldn't afford that.
Pavonikos continued, “Soldiers of Draekslanni origin report feeling the sensation of pain since setting eyes upon the city.”
“Did you heal them? We can't have our soldiers distracted by pain. Especially in that area.”
“I soothed their pain, sir, but not fully. They should only feel slight discomfort, but not too much that it will affect their ability to fight.”
Laevinus’ eyes looked up at the Tribunus with interest, “I take it you have a reason for doing so?”
Pavonikos nodded, “The soldiers told me they felt it in their Sealed Eyes. I learned from the Paradisian library that the Draekslanni had always a strong relationship to Kaeva through Eudai-”
“They're Daimons, Tribunus. Make no mistake, there is no such thing as a good Daimon,” Laevinus sighed, “But I see what you mean. You think that this… quirk of theirs could help us detect Daimons?”
Pavonikos was taken aback by his words but he nodded, “The records show that the Daimons are expert ambushers. If the Draekslanni are more receptive to them, then we can seek them out before they can attack us first…”
Laevinus began to stare out distantly as Pavonikos went on.
“Magister?”
Snapping out of it, Laevinus rubbed his eyes.
“The 13th shall march alongside the 1st at the head. Show me what you've gathered.”
They both closed their eyes. Pavonikos showed him everything he had seen from the troops. Once they opened them, Laevinus took a drink.
“I will inform the High Magisters of your findings about the Draekslanni. With this, maybe they'll finally consider deploying more of them instead of keeping them locked away.”
“Is there anything else you need of me, Magister?”
“No. Go and rest with the others, Pavonikos. Await my orders.”
“Thank you.”
With another bow, the Tribunus walked out, cloak trailing gracefully behind like the rising of the Morningstar. So much like their mother, Laevinus mused. Once again, the Magister Bellaxus was left to his thoughts. He remembered his last conversation with the Elder Pavonikos. Again, it was another impossible promise from a High Magister, but he had a duty as a friend and godfather to ensure the Tribunus’ survival.
“Flavius… I'll keep your promise. No matter what.”