“For every spell, there is an equal and opposite counterspell. A construct of spell forms that cancels out its effects. Sometimes these can be repurposed into a ward against a specific branch of magic, but typically only against a tight range of similarly cast spells.”
—Fundamentals of Arcana, Albrecht Magnus
Vaelith stood before them on the dusty field outside of the wards.
It was the first time that Sylvas had seen her since his promotion. She looked as stern and harsh as ever, the wolves at her heels, the only expression of her emotion that she ever let show, were snarling and snapping whenever a student stepped too close. “The Quarterly Cull begins next week. Some of you are going to be found wanting. Some of you won’t be. Failure or lack of effort in this exercise won’t be forgiven. You will all work to prove yourselves capable, or you will leave Strife.”
Terrifying as it was, Sylvas knew that Vaelith was slightly overselling things with her speech. Losing the cull wasn’t going to get everyone except the winner tossed off the planet, otherwise there would be only one student on the campus at a time. But positive motivation wasn’t the instructor’s style, and Sylvas could see the tension that her words brought spreading amongst the other students. He stood with the senior recruits now by virtue of being an officer cadet, but across the field, he could see the junior recruits of both services. The ones who were still in the lower circles and thus still learning the usual combat exercises. They all looked like they were sweating despite the evening chill.
But that wasn’t all that Vaelith had to offer them, her enhanced voice continuing to wash over them all like a wave. “And as it happens this time around, we’ve got a carrot as well as a stick—”
Kaya’s presence immediately leaned in to whisper to Sylvas but he cut her off before she could start. “It’s an orange vegetable that pack animals like.”
“—the top two teams in this contest will be getting a field trip. That’s right, one even without us breathing down your neck. Off world. Thrilling for you all, I’m sure.”
Sylvas’ interest was actually peaked by that potential prize, and for good reason too. His journey in coming to the military, to the Ardent, had been a straight a line as possible with no time to so much as glance at the Empyrean society that he was now a part of. Having a chance to go and do anything that wasn’t related to training sounded like a wonderful experience.
“For the cull, we will be conducting squad-based combat in our usual battlefield simulation structure. Three officer cadets to a team, six recruits. Form your teams now, train together. Learn your strengths and weaknesses. Choose your squad based on friendships at your peril.”
Sylvas didn’t even need to ask Kaya, the two of them had fought together and knew each other so well that the bond was unquestionable, finding a good group of recruits probably wouldn’t be hard either. He felt certain Gharia would want to be with them, even if she had a past with Bortan. Ironeye might go either way, with them or Bortan, but that wasn’t a huge concern. He believed that with his new affinity, shielding could deflect lightning just like any other spell if it came to it. He’d earned the trust of a large enough group of recruits by this point that it was going to be more a matter of whittling them down to a viable six, rather than trying to scrape together the dregs.
The real concern would be picking a third officer. His first thought was actually to try and secure Bortan, just because it would guarantee them Ironeye and anyone else with mixed loyalties. But at a glance it was already apparent the man had his own team hand-picked already, the scar-chinned human from class and a heavyset najash. He hadn’t been in the Blackhall long enough to know every other mage’s specializations yet. The fiend’s affinity was sonic, Hammerheart’s was fire, but beyond that Sylvas was essentially clueless.
Glancing around, they could see only one other pair in the same predicament as themselves. Hammerheart and his fiend. They had first approached Bael, expecting him to fall in line as usual, but the elf had turned his back on them entirely and walked away, towards Sylvas in fact. “Will you have me, or shall I be left to be picked over along with the rest of the dregs?”
It hadn’t really crossed Sylvas’ mind. He knew that the elf was useful, in the sense that he knew the social situation well, but he hadn’t really considered the practical applications of his magic. When he worked for Hammerheart, all he’d ever seemed to do was ward the other pair so that they could do the maximum amount of destruction. The trouble was, Sylvas didn’t know that they had a better option. Whatever happened, he felt certain that Hammerheart was going to be coming after him, and after this rejection, Bael would be a target too, along with whoever he was with. Strategy would dictate that splitting the two targets across two teams would cause Hammerheart to divide his resources to go after them, but a feeling of anxiety stopped him from following through on that thought. Hammerheart would be looking to vent his anger however possible, and if Bael was alone with a team that couldn’t protect him, well, he would be a ripe target.
Their friendship had been an alliance of convenience until now, and Sylvas had to decide what to do now that it was no longer so convenient.
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If he said no now, there was a very good chance that Bael stopped being his ‘friend’ in as much as they were friends. More than just that, if he declined the elf, there was a not small chance that they would be seeing an extended stay in the infirmary, if not worse. Meanwhile, if he said yes, they would receive a mage who their biggest competitor already knew all the ins and outs of. Hammerheart had months to learn all the counters to Bael’s abilities, and Bael…Sylvas realized as his thoughts led him to the obvious conclusion, had the same.
That if they took him on, he might very well have an insight that could turn the battle for them.
Sylvas held out his hand, and Bael looked down at it for a moment before catching on to what it meant.
“Thank you. It would have been so embarrassing to be picked last like… certain people.” He cast a meaningful glance back to Hammerheart.
However even as Sylvas made that decision he realized that he’d just done it without considering who else it might impact, prompting him to turn to look at Kaya. “I really should have asked you first how you felt about—”
The woman shook her head, already chuckling at his discomfort. “Way I see it, either this culgh is a traitor, and I get to smash his face in, or he’s useful. Either’s a win for me.”
It was a statement that Bael didn’t miss, his more than slightly worried voice then calling out, “I’m sorry, did you say you were going to smash my face—”
Sylvas decided to interrupt before the ensuing conversation got too far off the rails. “Let’s go find the recruits we want before someone else tempts them away.”
In the end, they managed to get Ironeye. There was no appeal to friendship or anything of the sort, Kaya and him just gave each other a nod, and that was a done deal. Gharia was in too, though she still hadn’t unlocked her affinity, so her usefulness was somewhat limited. With her, they had two fliers for scouting out the battlefield and making pinpoint attacks behind enemy lines. That is assuming Sylvas could get his own flying back into action soon enough. Luna and Orson joined habitually, and while Sylvas didn’t think a lot of their skills individually, he did know that they could take an order and run with it, and that would probably be just as valuable in the heat of battle. Especially when everyone else had such strong personalities. That left two slots for Sylvas to handpick the best of the best, and he was quick to fill one. The first recruit that they’d taken down in the first exercise on arrival on Strife, a hulking human named Harvan, with a stone affinity and a spell that let him pass through solid objects. It was the kind of advantage Sylvas could only have dreamed of, and he wanted it available in his toolbox.
With Harvan shaking hands with Kaya, that left only one final space to fill, and while he asked the others for opinions and options, none of them had much of a mind for strategy and synergies between their respective skillsets.
“Aw look, he’s got the pick of the litter.” The fiend by Hammerheart’s side cooed as he grinned across the field at them from her side. White shining out from the depths of the dwarf’s black beard.
Sylvas paid her words no mind, nor Hammerheart’s when he finally spoke up. “Anyone with an affinity that actually wants to make it through the cull, come here. We won the last one.”
“That isn’t so terribly impressive, you know.” Bael said to Sylvas in a stage whisper that probably carried for miles. “I’ve won the last one, too!”
“We carried you, elf.” It was the fiend again. Perhaps her sonic affinity improved her hearing, or perhaps it was an embodiment that sharpened her senses, that, or Bael was just extremely loud. “We did everything while you clung to our coat-tails.”
“You’re absolutely right of course, I’m sure the fact that nothing that had been cast at either of you ever made contact had absolutely no effect on whether or not you won. Silly of me for thinking otherwise, really.”
It was a petty argument, and Sylvas had no interest in being drawn into it. He had a team to put together and a strategy to form. Multiple strategies, really, when he considered all the possible configurations of the battlefield that they’d already seen, not to mention what may well come next.
In his irritation, Hammerheart forgot himself. With a twist of the wrist and a hiss of magic, he cast a bolt of fire at Bael. A bolt that withered away to nothing before it could touch him as the others gawked. “Perhaps now would be the time for you to explore some new options in terms of your spell selection, given that I have wards prepared against everything I’ve ever seen you cast. Wards, I might add, that I shall be delighted to cast upon my team before the cull begins ensuring your impotence throughout.”
Sylvas really wished that the elf wouldn’t goad his former friend. If actual fighting broke out, he would be next to useless in it. He hadn’t even practiced half of his new spells yet, let alone thought through their practical applications.
“I’m going to get you both.” Hammerheart growled, before stomping off once more with his fiend, and a few embarrassed looking recruits in tow.
“Bael…” Sylvas began, only to have the elf wave him off.
“My apologies for that outburst, it was quite unwarranted.”
Yet even with that, Sylvas’ hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose, something he noticed he was doing more and more as stress overtook him. “I can understand being frustrated, I can understand the feeling of being betrayed by someone you followed, trust me, it is a familiar feeling. But if you’re planning on giving away any other key elements of our strategy to the other teams so that they have time to prepare counters… please don’t.”
Bael was usually so fluent in his speech that those around him scarcely had a chance to get a word in edgewise, so seeing him struck dumb was a special treat. Kaya would have been delighted if she were paying attention. Once again, the elf simply dipped his head and showed contrition.
With that settled, Sylvas turned his attention back to the problem at hand. The opening in their team was still there.
From the back of the group trailing off after Hammerheart, one body broke away, stopping for a moment, as though weighing options, then turning back and walking down the dune to face Sylvas. It was a fiend. One that Sylvas had never even spoken before.
“Can I join you?” Came the question a moment later.
He was small for a human, exceptionally small for a fiend, skinny in build and soft in a way that Sylvas couldn’t really convey in words. From what Sylvas could remember this recruit had no affinity yet and hadn’t done anything outstanding to sell his presence. As such Sylvas’ first instinct was to hedge his approval. “We’re still discussing—”
But the fiend, who looked too timid to so much as cough in a social setting, promptly cut him off. “Enore was my sister.”
And that was the end of the discussion, they had their team for the cull.