MIRA

We set-up camps on a hill so as to see in all directions I assume. I share a tent with an annoying woman who keeps trying to get to know me. The is a slight drizzle outside and the smell of horses has me in a foul mood. Such unpleasant animals. You have to clean them, unsaddle them, they sometimes bite, or at least mine does.

I don't know why I'm curse as I am. The trip was exhausting even for me, an Awakened. Most of the horses nearly died, but somehow these flesh mages can keep them going. Never even heard of flesh manipulation before this journey but its fucken' useful. And to think I will be travelling in Master Barathian's retinue for the next 47 years. I'm counting the days.

The trip thus far was sunny, wet or insect infested. Sometimes all of the above. I could have used my air affinity to keep all the little critters away but the magister in charge on my division admonished me for wasting my 'paltry' mana pool.

My mana pools aren't paltry I'll have her know. Stupid bitch. But I listen; I keep quiet and always listen. I learnt that as a slave and it hasn't failed me too badly yet.

Then there is the annoying woman I share a tent with every night for a few hours. Spirits have mercy. The other mages wanted to saddle her with me for a reason. They wanted nothing to do with this one and her insistent nagging and worrying and stories and questions and talking.

"Shut the fuck up!" I finally shout and huddle tighter into my bed roll. Everything feels 'fucken' damp as well. She stays quiet for a while and I'm starting to drift of when she starts snoring.

"I hate my life."

I reach out to throw something at her and find one of my boots. No 'fucken' way I'm throwing this boot. It was a gift from master and is enchanted to fit perfectly.

Enchanting is still a new art that the scholars and other mages are experimenting with. No one has figured out how to make enhancements permanent yet so they have to be kept renewed.

I'm wondering whether or not my boots will be too big and fall of when the enchantment fades. I honestly don't know who enchants objects anyways. Now that I am far from Master Zhen I am realizing there is a lot he didn't teach me.

I weather the condescending looks and sneers of the other mages. 'Fucken' House brats. I hate nobles, all high and mighty and I can spot one anywhere. All these mages are from noble Houses. As if anyone else could afford or have the knowhow to Awaken that wasn't wealthy anyways. Fucken' nobles.

I eventually fall asleep wondering where master got the boots enchanted.

I wake-up the next day as an alarm is being magically rang throughout the camp. I jump into my boots and leathers, then a cloak I was given as a uniform. Maud is groaning at the other end of the tent, just far enough away that I can't reach her with my arm. And these are supposed to be the luxury tents in the army for the 'all important mages.' Everything here is a bloody joke.

I send a gust of wind to blow her covers off; party to get her up, partly as retribution for being so annoying.

"Get up. That's not another grill." I say as I splash water on my face and peek my head out the tent flap.

"How do you know?" She asks, getting up and putting on clothes. I don't understand how the woman sleeps naked. It's surprisingly pleasant up in these woodlands and grass plains but still...

"Because this spell is being broadcast by Magister Wen herself and not one of her lackeys." To me it's obvious who cast a spell if I've seen them cast one before. Everyone's mana signature is different.

Another skill Master Zhen taught me that I didn't know wasn't common. If I knew I was the only one in the entire army who could do it, I would have kept my mouth shut about it. Airheaded Zhen.

"Right. Let’s go then." She says once she's ready and we walk out together.

Magister Wen distributes us at the back of the camp with some of the soldiers to watch for an attack. We have absolutely no idea what is going on but we follow orders. Two man in full plate armour stand on either side of me. Maud stands with two others a hundred yards away, another mage a hundred yards after that.

More soldiers patrol the perimeter on horseback for quick reaction. It all seems pointless to me as we can see for miles all around from the hill. There is no one out there, on this side of the camp anyways.

"What is going on soldier?" I ask the one on my left, he fears me too much to lie.

"The barbarians came forward to parley ma'am." He says quickly and puts on his helm. Effectively cutting of any further discussions. Maybe fear isn't always the best motivation. The soldier on my right is attracted to me but also weary of me, maybe of magicians in general.

"What do you know about this Galahed?"

He starts, eyes bulging and spine going ramrod straight. Completely and utterly surprised I know his name. That's another thing I noticed about my magically inclined peers, they never pay attention to the servants and the soldiers.

I know a few of the servants by name from the camp followers, and all of Marcus Barathian's servants as a necessity for survival. They are also my peers, as I am still a servant to the House, even though I'm no longer a slave.

Thinking about Master Barathian sours my mood. The man has barely given me any attention. Not that I want his attention but still, it seems his plans for me are more subtle than I figured. And Justin's presence in the army may be explained as a young man seeking experience, or the fucken' Barathians want to breed me like a mare, and Justin is the stud. 'Fucken' nobles.

"A group consisting of about 20 barbarians came within sight of the camp this morning ma'am." Brigadier Galahed informs me.

"They then proceeded to setup a tent an arrow's maximum distance away and sent a single emissary to inform us of their intentions to talk. When General Barathian went to respond, the emissary said to wait for the slower army to get here only a few hours away. The general has been paranoid about us being watched ever since." He says, sighs as he wipes the sweat from his brow, gives me a toothy smile and also puts on his helm.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Shaking my head, I look ahead again. I'm sure the Barbarians are using some kind of magic. The kingdom has been learning new magic and ways of doing things from conquered people for generations.

Divination from the shaman of the Induku, enchantment from relics found in Orientia, mysticism from some cults that worship ancient spirits or other deities.

Looks like we will be learning more tricks from the Barbarians. Some master magicians are still trying to decipher the dimensional and time dilation effects of the fae grooves. I've been looking into that myself.

We spend the next two hours not seeing anything interesting. I ended up starting a conversation with Maud out of sheer boredom. I don't know how the soldiers stand all the waiting. Using air magic I can catch her words and send my words back to her as long as she is within line of sight.

Our shift ends as we see the second Sandersonians army on the horizon. That starts up another form of upheaval in the camp.

When the meeting with the Barbarians eventually happens an hour after General Arutmus made camp, I make sure I have line of sight. The meeting isn't warded and many of the magisters not part of the parley are using magic to listen in, so am I.

"These southerners are small," one of the Barbarians says while stretching his ass and playing with the handle of his axe. I hated having to learn their tongue but Zhen was adamant about my education and at the time I had very little options.

"You shouldn't kill them too quickly. I haven't had a good fight in decades." Another gruff voice says as our delegations meet.

The translator went forward and made the introductions, pulling out all the long winded titles for the unimpressed Barbarian savages. They all had beards, scruffy beards that have never been trimmed. Some of them had kilts like the highlanders are said to favour but the majority are in leather and fur.

The most distinctive thing about them is their size. I hadn't noticed from the distance but with Master Barathian standing before them I had a scale to compare to. They are all the tallest, widest human beings I have ever seen.

They have bulging arms, wide shoulders, narrow waists, big axes and swords. Ideal warriors, what I imagined them to be almost exactly. Fucken' warriors. Don't they know what a magician can do? We will destroy them and take their lands and make their sons and daughters slaves.

I almost pity them. But my father died fighting them and so I will kill them. Without them I would have led a very different life.

"We can understand your southern tongue. Stop butchering our language. Come sit, we drink yes?" One the smaller figures says, and as she moves to the table I realise by the swaying hips and hand gestures that it's a woman. She must be at least 6 feet tall. Definitely big people.

They sit stiffly and start casting magic on the food to test for poisons. At least I haven't given away that I can detect magic being cast. But I'm still not sure it's something other magicians can do or not, and to ask would be to give myself away.

After a few bites Arutmus interrupts.

"What is the purpose of this meeting? I thought Βarbarians were good enough sport not to surrender this early."

Laughter erupts from the Barbarian tongues. Food falling out and drinks being spilt as they bang the wooden table. Even the woman is beside herself and I can see the general populace getting red from here.

After a few more minutes of scowling by our generals and their aids Magister Whitewater interrupts. "Share the joke, we are all guest's here enjoying your hospitality." In what I assume perfect Scandinavian.

That seems to sober them up as the blond one who was scratching his ass earlier grins, showing his teeth.

"They find it funny because there has been hot debate of whether or not we should let our children fight you first." A new woman says as she walks to the table bringing her own stool.

"Sorry I'm late, news had to travel far to get to me." The normal looking woman says as she sits and begins eating.

"Ahhh, the lovely Divina. Don't scare away our guests now. Too much information too soon is not good for them." The blond says.

"What are your intentions here?" Another asks.

"We have come to take your lands, your wealth and your magic." General Arutmus's subordinate says with a sneer.

An older leaner barbarian snorts and leans forward. "The last land you attempted to take still belongs to the fae, and hasn't it been decades since you had a war? Surely all the troops I see before me besides your Awakened and magic users are inexperienced." He says in thick Scandinavian.

"You seem to know a lot about us and our history and we know very little about you," Magister Whitewater responds.

"When you say 'Barbarian' you use it as a curse word to belittle us. Why would the great Empire of Sandaria look into the ways of a people of divided tribes numbering less that 500 000 people. I hear the Central Province alone has twice that population." The small woman that came last says in perfectly smooth Sandersonians.

To say that these Barbarians are full of surprises would be an understatement. To be this far from any other human civilisation for so long and yet know the dealings of your neighbours. Neighbours thousands of miles away. Then to learn said neighbours history and language like you were expecting them. These people aren't as simple as they seem.

"We worry that if we defeat you it will be many years before you come calling again." Blondie says with a gift. "Which is why we want to make a little wager, on fair odds of course."

"Of course," Master Barathian says as though he knows what's going on.

I look around at the eaves dropping mages I can see and all are bewildered by these Barbarians. A name that is synonymous with big, dumb uneducated louts who rut like animals in public with no thought for common decency.

"We will field our youth, you will remove your Awakened worries from the field for that first battle. Let’s say.... 15 000 of your soldiers against 10 000 of ours. How does that sound?" He says looking around at the confused faces in front of him.

"You do realise that people will die don't you?" Master Alia finally speaks for the first time. She is the only woman amongst our emissaries and the only master magician dedicated to the healing arts I know of.

"We will do you the honour of killing you cleanly." The blond says as he nods. "The battle should only be one hour. That should be enough don't you think?" He asks looking from face to face.

"Of course we will gift you a dwarven war axe if you manage to survive the hour." Another man says, signalling behind him.

Another huge figure comes forward with a bundle wrapped in clothe and leaves it on the table.

"I think we have more than enough weapons and this farce..." General Arutmus trails off as the bundle is unwrapped. I can't see the weapon but I can feel the magic being cast on it. There is silence for a few seconds.

"Who forged this weapon?" Master Magician Athenius asks, also speaking for the first time. That is a habit I've noticed. The magisters do most of the talking, even in the presence of the more senior masters.

"This was forged by the best smiths amongst the tribes, André the Giant."

"I see..., and it is an empty spiritual weapon yes?" The master asks coolly. To my shock the Barbarians nods.

"What were those terms again?" Master Barathian asks.

"15 000 to our 10 000. No awakened, no magisters or above. Lower magicians or less. The battle will stop after an hour. The big boys will fight in two days time for 16 of such axes use?" Blondie says to the stunned looks of our leaders. These Barbarians aren't simple at all. An unbound spiritual weapon, 16 unbound spiritual weapons?

It seems the king will make it a priority getting these lands and their treasures. The rarity of celestial steel makes weapons that are able to be bound and increase in strength with time mere myths. A scalable weapon. Spirits beyond the generals and the master mages must already be thinking of how to divide 17 scalable weapons amongst themselves.

"We will choose our very best prospects." Arutmus says joyfully, taking a bite of meat and chewing happily.

Is this war or sports? No matter, 17 scalable weapons are worth it either way.