We were given time to say our goodbyes but soon it was time to join Magister Cross. Magnus met my eyes with a sneer as I walked over to join him as we waited for Lucas and the Magister to join us. “I’m surprised a weakling like you got a martial class. What even is a mauler? Can’t be that impressive if it was assigned to you.”
“It’s a warrior that wields a hammer. And at least it’s better than being a common squire.” Always quick to anger, my jibe pushed Magnus to do what he did best, hit stuff. I attempted to duck away but before his blow could land, blue ropes of energy wrapped around us, tying us in place. Magister Cross walked between us and did not look pleased.
“Mr. Jones. Mr. Treacher. I trust that moving forward you’ll handle yourselves with the decorum expected of the Drakescale Legions. Once we leave this village, any actions you take will be reflected in your initial introduction to Commander Eades. I’d advise doing your best to create a favorable impression. Now, behave yourselves.” As her words came to an end, so did the energy holding us in place.
Luckily Lucas arrived shortly after all of this to save us from the uncomfortable silence the three of us had descended into. With his arrival, Magister Cross spoke once more, “I’ll be escorting you out of town until we meet with a representative of the legions. I will then pass you into his care and he’ll be your guide. It seems you all have your own horses so we should make good pace. Let’s get moving.”
We traveled together for two days. I rode mostly in silence, while the other two laughed and joked together. It sounded as if they had been hoping to be assigned to the same place, not caring that their third had been left behind. We took turns doing menial camp tasks such as gathering firewood and cleaning up following meals. Magister Cross handled all of the hunting with her magic which was incredible to watch. Whenever she prepared to hunt, a longbow would materialize in her hand. Seeing such a casual use of summoning was unexpected; around our village people only used it when absolutely necessary. This is what true mastery of one’s skills looks like.
Another interesting thing about her bow is that she didn’t summon any arrows. Instead, as she pulled back the bowstring, energy condensed into a blue bolt that shot forward much faster than any arrow I had ever seen. I knew that there were classes that combined martial and magical powers into one, but this was the first I’d seen of one. I wonder what her class is?
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
On our last day together, I urged Duon so I could ride beside her. “Excuse me Magister. I was wondering if I could ask about your class, I’ve never seen one like it.” She looked at me with a surprisingly genuine smile.
“I’m an Arcane Archer. I was originally assigned the common class of Archer, but as I practiced and grew, I discovered a small talent for magic. From there it was simply training and choosing the correct class upgrades for my uncommon and rare classes. Granted, that’s easier said than done. Many people stop after receiving their rare class, getting to the higher tiered classes is not for the weak of heart. Both you and Mr. Casella have an advantage over others though, starting at uncommon gives you more time to reach those higher tiers. Mr. Treacher will be able to manage it, but only if he works hard.”
I listened to her speak for the rest of the ride as she told me about her journey. The most interesting part was when she summoned her bow again. This time she held it out for me to hold. It feels just like a regular bow. I can’t see any difference at all. As expected, I can’t create an arrow; it must be a skill of her class rather than an aspect of the summoned bow.
Shortly after a cold lunch in the saddle, we came across a group of Legionnaires. Magister Cross spoke with the man in charge as she gestured toward the three of us. We approached as she waved us over, “Gentlemen, this is where I’ll take my leave. This is Captain Talus, he and his squad will be delivering you to the legions. Good luck and may the gods watch over you.” And with that we were deposited with the legions, standing in front of this grizzled soldier.
“We have a week before we reach the legions. Until then, you are still worthless baggage to my squad. We’ll move fast, keep up or be left behind. We don’t have time to coddle you. That’s for the legion trainers to do.”
He wasn’t kidding, we endured a week of hard riding, eating in the saddle, and traveling through whatever weather came at us. Dawn till dusk. Day in, day out. We were exhausted, but by the time the legions came into view, our jaws dropped at the size of the main camp. A mix of permanent buildings and tents, it stretched throughout an entire valley. We rode through camp, passing by other soldiers before we were deposited at a parade ground near the center. We joined hundreds of others around our age. These must be the other newly assigned martials from throughout Tirovalta.