> Amoernt

>

> Noun

>

> Definition: A distinct class of mages who specialize in siphoning magical energy through the channeling of positive emotions. Unlike their counterparts, who syphon trough the four elemental channels, Amoernts draw their power from the depth and intensity of feelings such as love, joy, and desire. Although potent in their magical capabilities, Amoernts are often viewed as lesser mages due to the intimate and personal nature of their power source, particularly when their magic is most commonly drawn through sexual connections. Hence, why they are referred more as Incubus.

On the outskirts of the camp, nestled in a clearing where the woods were to the meandering river, Ulencia and Xendrix were diligently overlooking the grass. Xendrix was working a few feet away from the halfling.

"Think I found one!" Ulencia almost shouted.

Xendrix hastened to her side, where she had uncovered a black, squashed, eight-legged bug. "That's one for the basket," he confirmed.

"How many more have you killed?"

"We'll find them," he deflected, his usual talkative nature subdued in her presence. "Have you given any thought to my proposal?" he blurted out, surprising even himself.

Ulencia's movements were abrupt as she straightened, her skirt swiftly falling to veil her legs once more. "What proposal?" she asked, her tone edged with a hint of impatience.

"The one we discussed earlier," Xendrix replied, a note of insistence creeping into his voice.

"You've become an alchemist, Xendrix. You don't need my aid anymore," Ulencia stated matter-of-factly, turning her back to him as she continued her task.

"But wouldn't you like it? I could offer you anything, fulfil any desire," he pressed, his voice had the taste of bribery.

Ulencia paused, her back still turned. "It's not as straightforward as you think," she said, her voice tense.

"Is it because of him?"

"You mean Mediah?"

"Is it?"

Her response came hesitantly, "I... I don't know. The thought of being someone's wife, a queen no less, it's overwhelming."

"But consider the power, the influence you could wield for the Menschen, for humans," Xendrix urged, "Your blood and my throne could make all the difference!"

Her frustration found its way into her voice, growing louder despite her intentions. "I don't know, Xendrix!"

His next words came out sharp, tinged with an underlying pain, "Is the idea of being with me so repulsive? Would you actually prefer a filthy incubus?"

"Leave Mediah out of this; he has never wronged you," Ulencia stated firmly, stepping closer to Xendrix until they were nearly nose to nose.

"Why the hesitation? I offer you a title, protection, and power, and yet you'd squander it all for a mere fling?" Xendrix's words spilt out unbridled, his restraint crumbling.

"Mediah is a Magi! His power is beyond your comprehension, beyond anything your alchemy could ever grasp!" Ulencia retorted, her voice rising in defence.

The argument escalated, raw and unfiltered. "He's nothing but a fuckboy! That's his power; trickery, and I ain't blind to it, Ulencia. It just makes you his..."

Ulencia cut him off sharply, "His whore? You think calling me that is going to win me over, convince me to marry you?"

"Your options are clear. After I complete my trial tonight, you will accompany me. Or..."

"Or what?"

"Or I will return with an army—a thousand men. It's as simple as that."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm thinking of your well-being since you seem blinded by your twat infatuation."

With a swift step forward, Ulencia's hand connected sharply with Xendrix's cheek, the sound of the slap resonating through the clearing. "Find someone else for your dead spider hunts." She turned on her heel, leaving him alone, his hand nursing his stinging cheek and his bruised pride.

In the meantime, on the opposite side of the clearing, a grizzly bear plunged its massive paw deep into the tree, likely rousing a hive of bees in its quest for honey; Mediah, concealed behind bushes, was conjuring an ethereal arrow, a blend of debris and thunder, potent enough to swiftly and painlessly dispatch the bear.

"Para! Let him be fully distracted with the honey," Jaer murmured quietly.

"To sweeten the meat?" Mediah half-joked, struggling to suppress his laughter.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"It's to ensure he's thoroughly distracted so he won't notice us," Jaer explained, imparting his wisdom.

"Smart."

Eventually, the bear reached further into the tree, its paw now coated in a stream of glistening, golden honey.

"Ja!" Jaer commanded, and at his signal, the arrow was released. It flew swiftly and accurately, piercing the bear's skull cleanly, entering and exiting in one fluid, lethal motion.

"Well executed," Jaer complimented, standing and approaching their prey. "Your control is improving consistently."

"Do you really think so?"

"Judging by our fallen friend here, I'd say so. Your kind of power..."

Before Jaer could finish, Mediah interjected, "An incubus."

”Amoernt is the correct term, young Magi**,**” Jaer shook his head slightly. "Incubus is such an ugly word—a harsh term. Water mages draw water, whether from the clouds or a body. It's about choice."

"And how should I channel my power?" Mediah asked, the underlying implication clear—his power stemmed from the intimate connections of creature, love, lust and sex.

"Have you ever caused harm?" Jaer, with the strength of a tiefling, effortlessly gathered the bear's paws, hoisting the massive creature onto his shoulder. His smile was encouraging as he looked at Mediah. "Ulencia doesn't seem to bear any marks of distress or harm from your affections."

"I'm very careful, always in control," Mediah responded, ashamed.

"How so?" Jaer asked, his curiosity piqued as he began walking back towards the camp, the bear's weight resting easily on his shoulders.

Mediah hesitated before explaining, "She's into it, enjoys it... but I don't... well, reach the..."

"Ah, stopping before the finish line," Jaer nodded, understanding the implication. "A precaution?"

"Yeah. Losing control could harm her, so I never cross that line."

"That's why you keep walking in on the Commander and Noctavia?"

Mediah's face flushed with embarrassment. "That was unintentional! Their tent doesn't exactly come with doors to knock on!"

“But you sense it. Ulencia, although beautiful, is not enough for you. You need a partner with a powerful saatgut! Someone you won’t be able to drain ever.”

As Jaer and Mediah approached the camp, they were greeted by a scene of modest festivity. A table had been arranged in the heart of the settlement for the upcoming ceremony. The place was surrounded by children and their mothers busy adorning the camp with wildflowers and ribbons. The decorations breathed some life into the site. Yet, it couldn't quite recapture the vibrancy it once had before the Magis' departure to the Capitol.

The pair took their hunt catch to an improvised outdoor kitchen, where the animal would be prepared for roasting. Jaer had already offered his assistance in the cooking process while Mediah roamed the camp, looking for additional ways to contribute.

He contemplated visiting the Commander and Noctavia, but given his recent track record, he figured they might be otherwise 'engaged.’

Muru's absence weighed on Mediah. Despite their frequent disagreements, Muru had always provided stimulating conversation and debate, something Mediah now realized he had taken for granted. Feeling increasingly isolated, he began to ponder his future, especially once everyone else departed. With no family ties and seemingly no one to rely on, he felt adrift.

His contemplations were abruptly halted when he stumbled upon Ulencia, who was secluded among some crates, tears streaming down her face, away from the watchful eyes of the camp. Given his reputation for being nosy, he figured delving into her troubles wouldn't much alter how he was perceived.

"Ollo," he greeted softly, peering into her makeshift refuge.

"Go away," she muttered, not looking up.

"Why are you crying?"

"Why does it matter to you?"

"We're friends, right?"

Ulencia let out a bitter laugh. "Friends?"

"We're not?"

"I suppose we are," she conceded, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

Mediah squeezed into the space beside her and tenderly kissed her shoulder. "Talk to me. What's bothering you?"

"It's nothing," she insisted. "I'm just being stupid."

"I'm here to listen. Really, I am." His tone was sincere, offering her a safe space to share her troubles.

Ulencia took a deep, steadying breath. "Can you imagine us winning if tomorrow or... maybe, after tomorrow, we were invaded by a thousand-strong human army?"

"That's a heavy question," Mediah mused, pausing briefly to consider. "No, we wouldn't stand a chance."

"But Yeso, he's as mighty as the sun, right? He could turn the tide?"

"If he weren't so weakened. He's barely on his feet, Ulencia. He's been starved and confined in a space so small he couldn't even pace properly, from what I heard. Plus, humans have their own strengths."

"How? They lack magic!" Ulencia protested with a desperate hope for contradiction.

"They possess firearms and strategic prowess. It's not just their numbers; their military tactics are formidable. Perhaps with ample preparation, we might stand a chance. But as things are now, with our limited number of Magi, it'd be a fleeting endeavour—a lost cause."

"But you're strong!"

"My magic has its limits; it drains," Mediah explained.

"What if I... spent the entire night with you? And we made love all night; could that boost your strength?" Her question sounded like a last-ditch effort, all cards laid on the table.

"Ulencia, you're upset, you're anxious and angry. And I don't fully understand why. But I would never exploit you to sleep with me like this. Besides, at this moment, I could only draw pain from you, and pain doesn't fuel my magic. It doesn't work like that."

"So if an army came tomorrow, we'd have to flee?"

"It would be the wisest choice," Mediah replied and finally chuckled. "But that is not going to happen with having the little king with us. You're safe."

Accepting the reality of their situation, Ulencia leaned in, resting her head on Mediah’s shoulder. She found comfort in his unique scent, an intriguing blend of sand and iodine that always lingered around him. She realized she had never delved into his past, never asked about his origins or his family. Mediah was not one to volunteer much about himself.

But at that moment, Ulencia found small solace in the thought that whatever decision she made would be for the sake of people like Mediah—those who wore their hearts on their sleeves and whose smiles could make even the darkest moments feel a little brighter.

And only the Spirits knew how much she would need it.

> Magi Mediah was a visionary. He was a mentor to Magis from diverse corners of the map. His most notable contribution, however, lay in the martial innovations he brought to the fore. Mediah redefined the dynamics of melee combat by integrating spellcasting with martial prowess, thus pioneering a new echelon of warriors—the Battlemages.

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> His strategic genius was encapsulated in the creation of the Ulencia Sword, colloquially termed the 'dual dancing sword.' This ingenious armament consisted of a pair of swords, each tethered to a chain that looped around the wrists of a mage. The essence of Mediah's innovation was in the wrist movements—a balletic manipulation of the chains that not only conjured a swirling defence barrier created by the blades but also afforded the magi the crucial moments needed to weave their spells. The Ulencia Swords were not just weapons; they were the conduits for a tactical revolution, significantly reducing the number of Magi required on the battlefield while augmenting their effectiveness. Magi Mediah redefined the art of war with a simple goal: could a Magi alone fight a thousand men? ——Between Lore and Legacy: The Mystifying Histories of the Menschen Vol. IV by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune