“Squadron! Let’s move out!”
Gallus’ soldiers began leaving the Residential District, having several of the strongest soldiers pull the carts of survivors along. But after a few steps, Rufinus faltered. He felt the embers of anxiousness flickering out past the Soothing spell in his mind, and ignited a sinking feeling in his chest. It told him that something terrible had happened to someone close to him. It was a feeling shared by the other Vattirmanni. His suspicions about what had happened to the legion grew.
“What is it?” Adonis asked.
“I just had a bad feeling. I don’t know…” his voice quieted down to murmur before stopping completely. He peered over to where Gallus was at the front; an earshot of where he was positioned. Just to be safe, he closed his Tirran eyes and opened his Royan ones.
“I’m afraid something has happened to Val.”
Adonis narrowed his eyes as Rufinus shared his suspicions about Gallus. How strangely he had reacted when they left the residential tower after supposedly reaching out to the Magister Bellaxus. It seemed strange that the Duxus would keep that information from them all. But even if something did happen to the legion, Adonis couldn’t see any good reason for their small squadron to rush to the Scholar’s district to meet them. They were all tired and the survivors in their care would be a hindrance if they were faced against an army of Daimons.
“Val will be fine, Rufus,” Adonis said.
“How can you be so sure? He-”
“Because out of us, he’s the most knowledgeable. I trust him to get himself out of any situation.”
Adonis meant those words, though he too was fearful for Valerian. Even if he didn’t outwardly show it.
“Maybe you’re right. Sorry, I can’t help it. It’s just-” Rufinus was cut off, both men snapping their eyes open to the sound of Gallus reprimanding Adonis for having his eyes closed.
As they resumed their march, Rufinus felt the weight on the handle of the cart. Looking at the survivors inside, he took a deep breath. He had to get them back to safety.
When they entered the outer districts, they noticed a silvery hue growing around the outside of the city, reaching over the sky. Murmurs were heard amongst the squadron, all of them wondering what it could have meant. But Gallus heard one soldier answer correctly.
“They’re Sealing walls,” the Draekslanni woman said. “Have you never seen one?”
Most shook their heads but a few remained silent, expressions darkened just a bit. Adonis and Rufinus looked up, reminded of times best left forgotten but too painful not to remember.
“The 12th… They must be closing off the city.”
“But, what about the rest of the legion? They can’t do that unless-”
“Shut up,” Gallus barked, “No one is closing off the city. Not on my watch. Now stop yapping and keep marching.”
The squadron remained quiet for the rest of the way. Some of their worries bled through their Soothing spells. Thankfully, they encountered no Daimons on their way back to the city’s gates - the legion had been thorough in securing the outer districts much earlier. Once they passed the gates, they noticed several structures, like miniature Shield Anchors, had risen from the ground, evenly spaced from each other. But these were not Shield Anchors; these ones had a different spell engraved into their large gemstone eyes. Instead of the welcoming golden shield dome used to keep people safe from outer forces, these produced a cold silver to contain threats from within. Gallus looked at the Sealing Anchors in disdain and his expression did not change when they approached the 12th.
There was a wide gap in the Sealing Shield that led to the edge of the forest where the 12th had been stationed. The 12th were hurrying along to construct the rest of the anchors but they remained inactive, likely because they had seen the squadron from the 13th approaching them. The survivors were passed along to Healers of the 12th to be checked for injuries. The survivors had first priority, so Gallus’ group waited patiently or took some time to heal themselves of their wounds.
Adonis sat beside Rufinus, both resting their eyes to recover all their Focus with the others. But Rufinus was restless despite being this close to the 12th’s Soothers. He wanted so badly to return to Lidantium that he found himself staring at the walls of his eyelids, shifting about to get comfortable.
Why am I just sitting around here? Val is in trouble. We should have left by now…
“I can hardly rest in this heat,” Adonis said, with one eye open.
Rufinus quickly realised that he had unconsciously formed a spell. He shook it off to break it off.
“I’m sorry,” Rufinus rubbed at the side of his head, “
“Shall I call one of the Soothers?”
“No, Ado. I'll be fine.”
Adonis held a long intense stare. Just long enough to get Rufinus to crack.
“Alright, fine. I'm not… fine,” Rufinus sighed, “It's just not one of those things they can help with.”
Adonis understood what he meant from experience. It wasn't that the Soothers couldn't help; Rufinus wanted to do this by himself. As stubborn as he was, Adonis knew he couldn't completely do this by himself. So, he clasped his hand as if to steady him. Rufinus was surprised at first but gradually, his body slackened.
"You make this all seem so easy."
"Mn."
As always, he followed Adonis’ lead. He took deep breaths in sync with his companion. It took him back to simpler days. When the stresses of youth seemed as frightening as wildfire. They were still young and their troubles were far worse, but Adonis always seemed to know how to extinguish the flames. Bit by bit, Rufinus felt all his eyes close to all realms of Magus. He felt himself taking control again. The thoughts were silenced, replaced by the ones amplified by the Soothing Spell.
Rest. For Val’s sake.
Both had eased themselves into a deep rest and Focus flowed back into them. They could have spent longer in that state, but then they heard a voice.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”
They both looked up to see the Draekslanni woman staring down at them. This close, they could see her solid eyes of ultramarine, lit up with her smile.
“No, not at all,” Rufinus said. “How are you holding up?”
She rubbed at the side of her neck, “Less achy and bruised than before but I can’t wait to collapse on the grass and get some shut-eye.”
“Well there’s enough room here,” Rufinus gestured.
“No need but thanks. I already have a spot in mind. I prefer the shade you see…”
As they chattered on, Adonis eyes glanced at the pendant hanging from her neck; it was made from dragonscale, shaped in a spell formation that resembled a flower native to Draekslan. Each petal was notched with draconic runes; a familial keepsake, much like the familial symbols etched on the hat bands of all Ludcetans. So the wearer wouldn’t forget. Unfortunately for him and many Draekslanni of Ludceta, they weren’t lucky enough to keep theirs.
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“I just came to say that you both fought well today. Especially you, Frawdairch.”
Adonis’ expression remained neutral.
Rufinus raised an eyebrow, “Frawdairch?”
Saorise opened her mouth to speak but Adonis spoke first, “It means friend.”
“Ah. It’s good to see that someone at least remembers our mother tongue.”
“Why are you really here?”
She seemed a bit taken aback by his directness. There was a short pause as she considered his question.
“You’ve had your eye on me since we parted from the legion. Why?”
“Because you’re not one of the 13th,” Adonis answered.
Her expression shifted to that of slight exasperation, “Excuse me?”
But she recovered her composure, “I can assure you I’ve been here the entire time.”
“I would have recognised you if that were true.”
“It’s a big army,” she shrugged. “You can’t have possibly known everyone personally.”
“I don’t have to. Looking at their faces is enough and I’ve never seen yours before.”
The Draekslanni woman’s brow, “I believe you’ve clearly missed mine, Dathúil.”
Adonis turned his head away slightly, a little soured. It wasn’t an insult - far from it - but Rufinus misunderstood it as such based on his friend’s reaction.
“You should rest whilst you can,” Rufinus cut in. “There’s no knowing when Gallus will call us back.”
Gallus’ name made Saorise wince slightly, “Of course. That damned cock barely gives us any time to rest. Well, if you need me, I’ll be resting by the trees. It’s much quieter than over here.”
It almost seemed like an invitation, but the two men had already made themselves comfortable where they were.
“Say,” Rufinus scratched his head, “This is embarrassing but what was your name again?”
“Saorise,” she turned back, looking at Adonis, “I’m sure you’ll remember it.”
She left the two besides themselves again.
“She seems friendly enough. Did you have to be so forward?”
His companion didn’t answer.
“You still don’t trust her.”
Adonis shook his head, “I’m not sure what to make of her.”
“Well,” Rufinus started massaging his right eye, “If she were an enemy she had every opportunity to kill us.”
“Perhaps.”
“But, if she really was who she says she is, why doesn’t she have a Ludcetan name?”
He was referring to the symbol of a sparrow on the band on her hat. If she really had been of the Scholarly House Passer, they wouldn’t have let her keep her real name. It would attract too much unwanted attention, that much they both knew.
“Alright, good point. But my gut tells me that she harbours no ill intent. And anyway, what assassin in their right mind would march with us into Daimon territory?”
Adonis was trying to find that out. He suspected that she might have ulterior motives. It was rare for foreign so-called Maleficari to willingly volunteer themselves to the war effort. Even if they had a shared enemy, there had been too much resentment since the last Inquisition.
The two went back to resting their eyes. They needed to recover as much Focus as possible if they wanted to return to the legion. Their run-in with Duxus Strixus had left them drained and shaken. Rufinus hoped that was the last they’d see of a possessed human but Adonis predicted that they’d be seeing more victims. His Kaevan eyes were struggling against the seal placed on them and the pain had increased so much more whenever he faced the city. He couldn’t quite place why but he, and perhaps the other two Draekslanni, had noticed something had changed in Lidantium. And he didn’t like it one bit.
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“When did he give the order?”
Duxus Aquiliana of the 12th Cohort pulled away. They had just finished exchanging information with each other - what Gallus had seen had left her looking grim, and what she had heard had left Gallus feeling equally so. She answered, “40 Chronocycles ago.”
Gallus’ tightened fists shook. It lined up some time before he tried contacting Laevinus. His squadron had still been searching for survivors after their terrible encounter with Strixus. Images of the legion being overwhelmed by a horde of Daimons or worse swirled in his mind. He felt guilty for feeling so lucky. But what could he have done if he had been there? But when he glanced over at the survivors being tended to by the 12th, he shook those thoughts off; no one would have thought that anyone would have survived the invasion, but here these survivors were - alive.
“You can’t close the wall. I have orders to go back to the legion.”
“Don’t you understand what this means, Duxus Gallus? The legion is lost. The final order overrides all else."
“You don’t know that.”
“You heard them for yourself. For once, can you not be so stubborn?”
“Duxus Aquilina,” Gallus spat, “Even Magisters make mistakes.”
“This is insubordination and you know it.”
“I’ll worry about that when I return to Lumis. I only ask that you keep the shield open until we return.”
“This is foolhardy, even for you, Gallus,” Aquilina said, head tilted upward. “You’d endanger the rest of Ludceta just to throw your own life and the lives of your soldiers away.”
Gallus gritted his teeth but did not respond. She was right. It was foolish. But he couldn’t just turn around and leave.
“Just give us 8 Major Chronocycles. We will be back.”
“5 and no more. If the Daimons come, we’re leaving.”
As much as Gallus didn’t like that time limit, he understood. He began to leave.
“There may be more survivors,” Gallus said from over his shoulder.
“So?”
“So they're going to need someone to save them. You have enough soldiers to form rescue parties.”
“Those weren’t part of my orders,” Aquilina said. “The 12th leaves with the survivors we have already. I can’t afford to sacrifice my soldiers for a rescue mission.”
It was all procedure. In an event like this, at least one cohort could make it out alive. Nonetheless, Gallus could only think of one word: Coward.
“So you'll abandon many more to their deaths, Aquilina?”
“If you want to play the hero then be my guest. Let’s see how that works out for you this time.”
That seemed to hit a nerve with Gallus. It took him a lot to bite back his tongue. Fury passed his face as he looked back at the other Duxus. It was a blessing that one of his men came to interrupt him.
“Duxus, we’ve finished loading the Focus Potions onto the carts.”
Gallus nodded at the soldier, one of the three Draekslanni that had been temporarily blinded in the tower.
“Get yourself and the others ready. We’re leaving.”
When the soldier went away, Gallus briefly exchanged a final glance with Aquilina. Her expression remained cold. If there was one thing he knew about this Duxus, it was that she was pragmatic to a fault. It was likely that she’d shorten down their time limit if it ensured the survival of those in her stead - and that included the rest of Ludceta. She tipped her hat to him but he did not do the same.
Duxus Gallus’ squad took a fairly generous amount of Focus potion with them on the very carts that they used to haul the survivors. He watched all 18 of them assemble quite hastily. Duxus Aquilina seemed right in thinking that this was completely suicidal, but Gallus had been in a situation like this before. He had told them all that he had been keeping from them. There was some apprehension but it lasted for only for a moment. None showed any sign that they wanted to leave. Most had someone they knew. Oaths sworn. Promises made. Whatever the reason, it relieved Gallus. He wouldn’t have to waste time or Focus into forcing them to march with him.
Even if the legion had fallen, finding out what had happened to them was worth the danger - that kind of information would be highly valued by the Magisterium. But more than anything, it was hope that compelled Gallus to go back. After finding and recovering all of those survivors in the residential tower, that hope was renewed. And if there were surviving soldiers in the legion, how could he abandon them?
He looked back towards the city. Though he couldn’t find any trace of the legion - there were too many tall buildings obscuring his vision to see that closely - he noticed there had been a change in terrain in the middle section of the city where the Craft’s District was usually located. Huge structures like walls appeared around the area. Beyond that, the Scholar’s District pulsed brighter with ultraviolet light.
“Squadron! We march for Lidantium!”