Before I continue where I left off last chapter, I’d like to clarify that although any of the formation stories of Torbolt’s Greater Domains could be used as evidence for my hypothesis, the creation of his final Domain (Comradery) emphasizes my belief the strongest.
Torbolt was furious. Apheros could see that long before he approached his fellow god. The god of Storms was sporting a new helmet, one with a familiar set of forward-facing horns, and had a sinister set of glowing pink eyes escaping the shadow that his helmet cast.
Not wanting to make eye contact out of fear, Apheros lowered his head, noticing the heavily muscled torso of Torbolt was twitching in fury. The Nature god felt a pang of guilt upon seeing the scar above where Torbolt’s heart was, and lowered his head in supplication.
No longer staring at the Lightning god’s thick pectorals, Apheros could see the immense strength held in Torbolt’s balled-up fists, the unyielding wall that was at the core of this god, the pteruges hanging from Torbolt’s waist unable to shroud the horizon-leaping power of the god’s legs, and the…
“Look me in the eyes coward!” Torbolt’s voice boomed as mightily as the storms he commanded.
Flustered, and hoping that he didn’t just double down on his punishment for ogling his fellow god, Apheros raised his head back up to see Torbolt pointing at a nearby tent.
“Come with me. I require your skills.”
Viewing the mountainous backside of the god in disbelief, Apheros couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. He had wasted countless efforts trying to goad the god of War and Tactics into “sharing a tent with him” but believed that his last encounter with the god had extinguished any chance of that happening. He cautiously followed behind, worried that retaliation was still imminent.
Inside the tent were dozens of mortals, many who screamed in fright upon the gods entering. Torbolt crossed his arms, looking down disdainfully, “Some of my best warriors simply stop fighting for no reason.” He pointed at one mortal who was shaking uncontrollably, “Fix them.”
Apheros glanced to the side, unsure what to make of Torbolt’s sudden change in temperament towards mortals but decided it would be a bad idea to test the god’s patience. He slowly approached the mortal, who jerked away before he could touch them, and instead stopped moving to simply observe the people inside. Nearly all of them looked like they haven’t slept well in weeks, many seemed to be either in a catatonic state or highly anxious. There were no physical injuries that he could see, but the looming terror in the mortal’s eyes were enough to worry him.
“You’ve been leading these mortals into battle?” Apheros cautiously asked.
Torbolt grunted in affirmation, “I taught the men how to channel their fury, to use it to kill. But the number of injuries and deaths was unsustainable. To make up for their weaknesses, I taught them how to fight as one, and that stopped the brunt of the deaths and injuries, yet still some laze about like they’ve been injured.”
Apheros wasn’t sure what he could do, broken bones and torn flesh he could easily heal, but none of his domains allowed him to fix a broken mind. Maybe Ignitious or Adamanrion could help?
He turned to Torbolt, and gave him a downtrodden look, “I’m sorry friend, but I can’t help them.”
Torbolt gripped the Nature god, causing them to yelp in pain, “Why not!”
“Because you pushed them too hard! Not everyone lusts for endless battle like you.”
Lightning arced up Torbolt’s body, and they heard the mortals scream once more. Some were clutching their heads, trying to shut out the presence of the god. Others were lying on the ground unmoving, tears in their eyes. And one was muttering prayers to Torbolt, asking for him to finally end their suffering.
Torbolt’s anger washed away, only now recognizing the damage that his storms had done. His push to cause destruction had turned what was once a harsh reality for the mortals into an inescapable nightmare. In a daze, the god lowered themself to the ground, guilt taking hold over him. He had promised the mortals that he would protect them, that he would create a new life free of fear.
One of the mortals who were clutching their heads opened their eyes after their panic ended and took in the sight of the frightful god being consoled by another wearing antlers on their back. The bull-horned god looked to him, his eyes no longer containing restrained fury, but something else.
“I’m sorry. I have failed you.”
The mortal lowered their head, “No, it is me. Your voice… it makes the ground shake. Just like… when they… in the spring…”
A large hand landed on the mortal, “If it helps, I will speak softer from now on.”
---
Travis
Steelsday, the 4th of Seventhmonth
I finish the calculations in my head, ensuring that even with the payload lowered to its minimum, my spell will still fly at the same speed as a fully loaded one. Fire Mana gathers around my hand into a [Fire Bolt] formation, and my hand raises up.
“I’m ready… Pull!”
Arc began to play his usual exotic music of unknown origin in my ear as I scan the private spell range with my mana sight for my target. Light Mana pools behind the small Walls that Arc created beforehand, and I calm my breathing down to steady my aim. Light flickers in the corner of my eye, and I jerk my hand towards the outline of a duck springing up from behind one of the walls, then close my fist to launch the spell.
The spell hits, causing the Light Mana to change into an image of an explosion, and I immediately begin shaping my next [Fire Bolt]. More targets appear, each flying in different directions and angles. I manage to hit the first three, but Arc begins to increase the difficulty by modifying the speed at which the images move.
My next spell misses, flying behind the duck before hitting the back wall. Arc, going out of his way to annoy and frustrate me, uses his Shadow Mana to conjure the image of a laughing dog (complete with accompanying sound) from behind the farthest wall. I clench my teeth, knowing that he’s only trying to anger me enough to lose focus, and keep launching [Fire Bolt]’s at the targets.
The music fades, and I lower my hand, letting out a deep sigh.
“Hey now, five out of twenty-four isn’t too bad. You’ve already managed to shave off a second on your casting time already.”
My blood began to boil, but calmly gathered Wind Mana for the next round, “Reset the range.”
The next round with [Wind Bolt] had the same poor result and I did even worse when testing out [Water Bolt], not even managing to hit a single target.
“I think you’re not taking the spells weight into account, maybe try adjusting your lead upwards more? Or upping the speed?”
I tapped my fingers on my thigh, trying to think of a solution, “I was setting the speed to what one with a full combat payload would contain, if I raise it any higher, the loss of expelled mass will nullify the damage output.” Shifting some mana to help me visualize the spell formation, I looked over the deceptively simple spell. It was essentially just an Orb spell with a small repulsion array attached to one of the lines, but that simple change allowed for so many more variables.
“Hmm, I could modify the output ratio on the repulsion array’s lines to make it arc upwards...” A grunt soon followed as I did the math, “It won’t work. I’d still have to redo all my calculations before using it in battle. Damn, I was hoping I could conserve mana.”
This rots, I was looking forward to starting Bolt spells this week, especially after the endless slog of only learning utility spells the last four weeks. We got told yesterday during Fire Spells 1 that part of my final exam will require me to destroy twenty-four moving targets with a [Fire Bolt] spell in under a minute, but it’s already Sevenmonth, I’ve got less than eight weeks to master this spell before the end of the semester. This is going to be more difficult than I thought, especially if I need to repeat the same feat with the other elements…
“Sounds like you can’t just launch and forget. Maybe it’ll be smarter to keep your mana synced and launch those heavier spells at a slower rate so you can adjust them in flight.”
A frustrated sigh escaped me, the main benefit of casting Bolt spells over Blast spells was that they propelled themselves. Not only could they move faster and farther, but the reduced potential leakage over time and compression upon impact made the spells much more deadly. Having to manually guide them could quickly tire me out mentally in combat or distract me.
“Hey now, don’t kick yourself too much. You don’t have an affinity, unlike most of your cheating friends, so you don’t get some vaguely described ‘instinct’ on how to correct your spell formations on the fly. You need to manually take account of everything.”
I took in a fresh breath to recenter myself, glad that Arc seemed to understand what my problem was. Hmm, maybe I should take Jakob up on his offer to help tutor me? Or wait, maybe he won’t be able to help. He probably has an affinity as well. Ok, think… there must be a workaround for mages without affinities… I mean, dwarves and elves don’t have them… or orcs!
A grin drew itself across my face. Not sure if asking Drozuk for advice tonight would be worth my time, but if not, maybe we can find a solution together?
Noticing the time, I debated asking Arc to prep the spell range for [Rock Bolt] but decided to practice walking around with [Earth Cleat] while I had some privacy instead. I started by attuning to the mana in my boots, grateful that I didn’t have to cast this spell barefoot due to the expensive monster leather used in their construction, then began to draw the formation lines. After pausing to make sure I remembered the spell diagram’s instructions, I began to make a selection of the lines directional, notably the condensing array at the heel and repulsion array at the ball, then modified the shape to only provide a mild benefit.
Shifting my weight around while keeping my heels dug in allowed me to confirm the spell was working, and I cautiously took my first step. The push off wasn’t too strong, but it was still more than expected, and I face-planted into the sand after failing to keep both legs underneath me.
Animalistic chuckling from Arc drew my ire, especially after seeing him “walk” up to me with his Shadow Mana construction of a laughing dog, looking like he somehow managed to draw the outline in the air with charcoal. My eyes rolled at his blatant taunting of what I believed was his true form, then checked the state of my enchantment on my boots. The formation was still intact, so that was good. I just needed to learn how to walk all over again.
Wait…
“Hey Arc, could you bring up an image of Reidar walking? I just realized that he probably knows this spell.”
“Sure, just a sec.”
Arc reshaped his avatar to one of Reidar walking around the spell range, and I observed closely to how he always brought his heel down first and didn’t fully shift to the ball of his other foot until his next step was nearly completed.
“Are you sure you want to spend time trying to learn that spell? You’ve got exams to prepare for, and it sounded like it’ll be included with Earth Spells 2 next semester…”
“Ranged spells are expensive for me to cast, especially if I stick to a single element. The diagram for this spell stated that mastery of this enchantment was not only relatively cheap to maintain, but it would allow a person to triple their jumping distance and even walk upside down on ceilings made of stone.”
“Whoa! Never mind. You should definitely learn that spell as soon as possible.”
---
9-11 Group Study
“Oh, hang on, let me grab my notebook.” Drozuk closed the oversized folder containing his self-study spell and moved over to his bag to bring back a thick notebook and metal wand, “So, what I’ve been doing is using a mana frequency scale to help simplify my casts.” He pointed at one end of the inscribed rod, “For example, my current mana supply is only big enough to cast four [Water Bolt]’s at 1MF (Mana Frequency Standardized Unit) if I want 1 pint of water in each Bolt. So, using that as a constant for my first four casts allows me to reduce the number of variables.”
I nodded along, trying my best to not focus on the fact that I had vastly underestimated my friend’s intelligence, “I was trying to extend my practice casting by keeping the payload low, but ran into problems when switching to Water and Earth spells due to gravity affecting them.”
Drozuk frowned, “Yeah, I noticed my spells kept dropping at random rates, so I asked a few senior students, and they showed me how they use mana scales to keep their spells more consistent. They also recommended focusing on just hitting stationary targets at different ranges first, then introducing moving targets after I build up enough muscle memory to not have to constantly recalculate my output ratios.”
He pointed to the formula he had bolded at the top of his notebook’s page, “I keep speed and weight constant, that way I have a consistent drop rate to correct for when I estimate target range.” He pulled a scrap of paper to physically show his calculation to me, “Since I have enough constants, I can rearrange my equation to a Shape = Output / (Volume x Amperage) arrangement and only need to adjust my top line’s mana ratio on the repulsion array to accommodate for the effect gravity has on my spell.”
“Hmm, I think I’ve seen senior students use something similar to his wand. Let me check my memories…”
I gave Arc a friendly scratch with one hand and gave Drozuk’s shoulder a pat with my other in thanks. Stopping upon contact though, I noticed that Drozuk’s shoulder seemed much more solid, and had to remind myself that despite the drastic change in size, he was still the same orc I met on my first day.
“Have you shrunk down more again?”
The green-skinned orc, who had gone from the size of Darius down to something closer to us guys, drooped his head, “Yeah, had to get my uniform refitted again. Got a bunch of dirty looks from the Quartermaster’s staff. I’ll probably start looking like an elf soon at this rate.”
I gave his shoulder a brotherly squeeze, “Hmm, feels as solid as a tree to me. I bet you’ll start growing again soon.”
Drozuk gave me a toothy grin, “Thanks bud.”
I smiled back, then directed my attention to the wand he was carrying, “Where did you get that mana scale? It’d be nice to have one to practice with.”
“My uncle Brian gave it to me. Said he ‘found it’ once while out on a monster hunt but didn’t know what the inscription was for since it was just an inert dotted line.” He passed it to me so I could get a closer look, “I asked one of the artificers about it, and they showed me how it worked. Apparently they’re a common combat aid for elves and dwarves.”
“He’s right. I finished checking my memories, practically every senior elf and dwarf here has a 94-key scale inscribed into their two-handed weapon.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
I cocked my head at the item in my hands, “How come we don’t get one to train with?”
A familiar deep voice from behind startled me, “Why would we do that when you’re just going to make one of yer own in a couple of weeks?”
Our heads turned to see Durinn somehow snuck up on us. They looked oddly cheerful today, unlike the visible dread they normally showed when coming to practice their presentation.
“You’re in a good mood today.”
The light-gray skinned dwarf blushed, causing their face to look fresh out of a forge once you added in their blaze orange hair and beard, “Well, I had a big breakthrough today with one of my side projects. So, I got a fallback invention in case my presentation for my assisted spell launcher collapses.”
“Ooh, let me guess… Gauntlets that launch towards your opponent to punch from a distance! Or…”
I gave Arc a few raps with my knuckles to calm him down, then checked with Drozuk before handing the wand to let a curious Durinn inspect the item.
“Must be old, the seals are completely compromised.” They pulled it closer to their eyes, “Oh, wow, this must be older than the United Human Kingdom, I’d bet my beard that this was originally made with a set of mana gems, but they turned into dust over time. In fact, I’m a bit surprised there’s even that. There’s practically no insulation on this thing.”
Drozuk grunted in affirmation, “Yeah, was told I’d have to tune it every couple of days just to keep the measurements accurate.”
Durinn handed the scale back, “Don’t worry, the one’s you’ll make won’t need to get calibrated even remotely as often.” They clapped their hands together, “Now, can I get my semiweekly torture session over with, or can I stall by answering questions.”
Drozuk and I started to chuckle, catching the attention of everyone else at the table. I slid my chair so that Durinn could be seen and motioned to the table to take notes on the presentation. Once everyone had a fresh sheet of paper in front of them, I turned back to Durinn, “Today we’re going to drill you with questions after your demonstration to emulate what the professors might ask.”
The bearded dwarf nodded their head, pulled out a set of notecards from their belt pouch, then took a few big breaths before speaking, “Hello. This… is my invention. The Assisted Fire Arrow Spell Launcher.” They paused to look down at their notecards, taking another set of deep breaths, and hopefully remembering Arc’s advice that long pauses are always better than a garbled mess of words.
Overall, the presentation was a vast improvement from their first. They won’t be shouting advertisements from a shop window to draw in customers anytime soon, but they at least managed to not make the experience painful or tediously boring.
Bridget started the questionnaire with a moss-ball question, “How difficult will field repairs be to conduct? The internal structure sounds complicated.”
“A competent Water or Fire Mage will be able to do most repairs with a standard Artificer kit. The Human Kingdom’s mana-powered water pumps share a very similar base design, and since the inscribed formation nearly perfectly mimics an unaltered [Fire Arrow], the check for errors should be simple.”
Jethro decided to ask the next question, “How do you justify the cost of your invention? There’s enough crystalized mana in that object to create over a dozen Mana Edge inscriptions.”
Durinn shifted in place, still looking anxious, “This… provides a way for Knights to use long-ranged spells with only minimal training.”
Jethro glowered, doing exactly what I asked him to do earlier, “Surely a simple Bolt Spell inscription embedded into a gauntlet or spear-end would be a more economical use of materials?”
“Well… umm, those are often either two-dimensional formations or poorly optimized three-dimensional ones since they have to conform to the shape of the object being inscribed.” Durinn made eye contact with Jethro, and shuddered, “This… allows the user to cast more powerful spells, and with greater frequency.”
“Why would a knight want to use more powerful spells? If your invention is used, a Knight may amp up their Fire Mana too much and cripple their ability to use mana reinforcement. Perhaps you’re simply unaware due to being a dwarf, but in order to use mana to amplify one’s strength, you need to trigger all four basic mana types simultaneously.” Jethro made a showing of rolling his eyes, then waved off the dwarf, “No further questions from me.”
“Wow. I can’t believe I was worried that Jethro wouldn’t be able to play the part of a dismissive arrogant prick.”
I gave Arc a scratch in agreement, and turned to give Jethro a stealthy thumbs up, but twisted it back to Durinn after seeing the worried look on my fellow Lakelander’s face.
The bearded dwarf was hyperventilating, and I held up my hand to halt the practice, then walked into Durinn’s field of view to help shut out external stimuli while I gave them a pat on the shoulder.
“Are you ok Durinn? We can stop if you want.”
Durinn’s erratic breathing began to calm, and they nodded their head, “I’m fine… I just… need a minute…” They tilted their head back and clutched the spell launcher in their hands, then closed their eyes while they muttered something to themselves in dwarvish. After a minute passed, they let out one final deep exhale and opened their eyes again, “Sorry, been having nightmares about Professor Quinsandoral belittling my invention the last few weeks.” They gave their head a good shake, “He wouldn’t even be on the board, I’m applying for my Artificer title, not Master Mage title.”
That stunned me into a bewildered state, “Professor Quinsandoral?”
“He’s the department head of Wind Mana Studies. Don’t ever take a class with him. He’s damn near impossible to please, has a habit of making his students feel like complete idiots, and the worst part is that he’s never wrong about anything. It’s like he’s the living embodiment of Zephoreas.” The bearded gave themselves a full body shake, then peered around me, “You did a great job Jethro, almost needed to change my pants there.”
“Sorry about being so harsh, Travis wanted me to give you a worst-case scenario.”
“Oh, it was.” Durinn gave me a pat on my thigh, “Alright, I think I’m ready for more questions.”
---
“They’re getting there, but I think we need to focus more on the interview questions. Having a prepared answer for anything the academy’s senior educators might throw at them will help relieve their overall pressure.”
My hands were busy writing down Durinn’s next assignment of seeing if we could practice in the room they be presenting in and asking their colleagues what other types of questions the Artificers might ask, so I’d have to wait on giving Arc his scratch for being such a good sword later. Once finished, I handed the sheet over, “Here you go, enjoy the rest of your night.”
Durinn chuckled, “Ha, I will. For the twelve minutes it takes to walk to my bunk.” They gave us a nod and final wave, walking by a High Elf woman who was carrying a stack of folders.
“Ah, good timing. Are you by chance Travis?” The golden-haired elf with red eyes asked.
“Umm, yes. Can I help you?”
She gave me a big smile, “You submitted a request to have a scribe obtain relevant records for you over four weeks ago. I came to drop off your request but was told I could deliver it directly to you.”
I smiled back, then made room on the table for her to set down the documents, “Thank you. To be honest, I kind of forgot that I submitted the request.”
She let out a light chuckle, then took a moment to readjust her necklace once her hands were free, getting the glowing black pendant centered below her neck properly, “Sounds like you’re already a full mage. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen mages hard at work on obtaining their master rank look utterly baffled about the records I deliver for them. Just last week I had to watch a lightning mage try to figure out why I brought in a codex of cryptographic languages.”
“Ooh, I bet I know why! He wanted to transmit a message over long distance using low voltage wires.”
Sensing that Arc was about to grow overly excited, I signaled for him to calm down, and did my best to act casual around the elven woman. Despite it being a month and a half since classes started, I hadn’t really interacted with any elves other than my teachers. She was checking through the stack of folders but got distracted when Bridget asked her a question.
“Is that a symbol of Ignitious? I haven’t seen one like that before.”
The elven woman began to beam with glee, “Not exactly, it’s an artifice that my boyfriend made for me.” She stood upright and gestured with her hands to bring attention to the pendant, allowing everyone to more easily see the silver filagree wrapped around the Orb of Shadow in a pair of rings. “He said he modeled it after the sun pendants that the clergy of Ignitious like to wear, only instead of it radiating Light, it radiates Shadow.”
Hmm, I wonder if that’s what one of those collapsed suns Arc told me about look like?
My eyelids closed temporarily to allow me to give the inscription a quick inspection with my mana sight, “What does the formation do?”
“Creates a small [Shadow Aura] around my head to block out bright lights.” She gave a knowing glance to Bridget, “Comes in handy for us Fire Mages, since we can easily blind ourselves with our spells.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her pointed ear, then turned to me, “Now, before I leave you to your research, I just wanted you to know that while I was able to find a census of the settlement expedition that founded your village, a few of the founders are flagged as receivers of Adamanrion’s Blessing of Rebirth.”
I nodded along, not too surprised, especially since that Bard’s tale might be more accurate than we initially thought, “Any luck on determining the history of my sword?”
She pulled one of the folders out to place it on top, “I was able to confirm it’s not the Fang of Voffer, but it’s possible it could be a prototype due to the similar style and lack of engravings on your sword. When I checked the public sword registry, one of the workers suggested that you bring it to the Reformed Church of Adamanrion to get it analyzed and registered. They might be able to tell you more.”
My shoulders slumped in disappointment. I was positive that Arc was secretly Voffer, the minor wolf god of Hunting, and progenitor of all Northern Tundra dogs.
The elven scribe finished checking over the documents to ensure she brought everything, then set out a form on top of the stack, “Feel free to request me personally in the future, and if you could, please fill out this review and leave it with the front desk. It’ll help me out greatly when trying to apply for a permanent researcher position.” She gave me a flirtatious smile, “Especially if you leave me a glowing review.”
I awkwardly thanked her once again before she left, then sat down to go over the documents. There wasn’t much time left before lights out, but maybe I could at least skim over everything.
“Fang of Voffer?”
Stifling a groan, partly because I couldn’t respond with everyone around me, but mainly because I was embarrassed that my opportunity to confront Arc with the evidence I gathered had completely failed. Instead, I was going to have to explain to my friend why I thought they were the first domesticated wolf. It was going to be an embarrassing conversation tonight when we got back to my dorm room.
---
Arc
I watched Travis step out from the greyed-out void that was the bathroom, and mentally laughed once more at how my latest update to my sword-brain still needed a few tweaks. Travis greatly approved of me auto-censoring some things, mainly whenever someone was in the bathroom, or changing clothes, but the blurred-out squares covering Travis’ nipples looked down-right comical to me. I’ll have to add that to my list of things to change next time I dive back into my soul.
My young friend tried to tuck into bed while acting as if nothing eventful happened earlier, so I decided to begin the teasing tonight with the sound of a clearing throat, “Aren’t you forgetting to tell me something?”
Travis rolled over in a futile attempt to hide from me, but answered after letting out a groan, “So… I might have gotten it into my head that you were the minor god Voffer.”
“He’s that wolf that was blessed by Ignitious right?”
“Yeah, in the book I was using to research, it mentioned how, after Voffer befriended Magnar and sired multiple litters of the first dogs, that he died in battle helping defend a Northman lodge from a mature cloak dragon. Magnar then supposedly used Voffer’s remains to create a sword, allowing a part of his friend to remain by his side.”
Book? When did Travis research this? Wait…
“Ok, I have multiple questions. First off, why did you think I was a dog?”
Travis let out another sigh, “It made sense at the time. Your name sounds like a dog’s bark. You have knowledge that no one else knows of, but not much about how magic works. And then there’s the fact that you do dog-like things, like purring whenever I give your pommel a scratch, getting excited easily, or how you created an avatar in the shape of one.”
Have I really…?
I scanned my memories… oh crap, I totally have been!
“So… I can see why you might have thought that.” I made an audible sigh to help signal my own embarrassment to Travis, “I wouldn’t feel too embarrassed for thinking that.”
Travis made a small smile of relief, “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me who you truly are now?”
“Well, I can’t tell you everything. Mainly because I could get into trouble, but I can probably safely tell you that I was a human, and you won’t be able to find any records of my previous life.”
“Ok, but why all the secrecy about who you were? Like, where did you grow up? Did you ever marry and have kids? Or, if it’s not too painful, how did you die?”
“Well, here’s the thing, I know what happens after death. And I have knowledge that normally only the gods are capable of sharing…”
Travis’ eyes widened with realization, “Oh, I get it now. That’s why you’re so nervous about entering a church. They might think you’ll share divine secrets with me unless they take you away first.”
“Yeah, I figure the less you know about me, the less likely you’ll get punished by association.” I paused to remember my other questions from earlier, “Back to my earlier questions… When did you find time to research without me noticing?”
The little bastard began to grin madly, “You did notice, remember that book I got from the bookstore?”
“That giant romance novel?”
“I never said it was one.”
Hold on… I searched through my memories yet again, and…
“Oh… for… You little child of Ignitious…”
Travis began to laugh, “Yeah, I was surprised that I was able to pull one over on you so easily. It’s normally impossible to hide something from you.”
Well, I couldn’t fault him for jumping at the opportunity.
“Ok, but why the secrecy in the first place?”
Travis dropped the smile and turned over to set his hand on my pommel, “You’re normally so secretive, I thought that unless I cornered you with information, you wouldn’t tell me anything about you.”
“I can’t really argue that I wouldn’t. Feeling the sincerity from his touch, I decided to make a promise, “Ok, let’s make a deal. That scribe mentioned that you should take me to Adamanrion’s church. If you take me there, I might be able to talk to Adamanrion again and ask them what I’m allowed to share. Once I know what’s safe, I’ll feel more comfortable telling you about me. Maybe even my old name.”
Travis stopped caressing my pommel, no doubt shocked that I’d be willing to open up so much but surprised me when he pointed out my word usage.
“Again?”
Dammit.
“Ok… so, I might have agreed to do a favor…”
---
Woodsday, the 6th of Seventhmonth
Travis took the news well… I think. After telling him about how “Addy” asked me to have my “paladin” assist Durinn, he seemed more skeptical than worried, asking how I even knew that I was hearing the voice of a god. After explaining that even I couldn’t control mana enough to variate pulse rate, he seemed satisfied enough with my response, even shrugging his shoulders when I asked if he was ok with proceeding to do the favor.
According to him, he hasn’t once felt the presence of any divine entities, and that if it wasn’t for me voluntarily telling him about his blessing or conversation with Adamanrion, he’d be completely in the dark. In fact, as he was quick to point out afterwards, I had absolutely no evidence to prove that he’d either received a blessing or that I had a conversation with the god of Metal.
We haven’t truly talked since, and while part of that was due to me being angry that Travis wouldn’t believe me at my word, the real reason is because he was right. I had no proof. For all he knows, I could be lying. It certainly wouldn’t be hard for me to do so. And as he pointed out earlier that night, I haven’t been very open with him.
I tried to relax as Travis put on this week’s outfit provided by Jethro. Fashion has seasons on this world too, and the beginning of last month marked the acceptable time to start wearing boardshorts and t-shirts in public. To my amusement, it looked like tank tops were considered in season after the summer solstice, and the kid that once got berated by his mother for walking around his village shirtless in bare feet was looking self-conscious when he approached Jethro.
“You need to take off your arming jacket more often,” Jethro teased, “your torso is as pale as a Northman’s.”
Travis rubbed his bare arms, “Feels weird wearing so little clothing now. I wonder if this is what Spartans feel like when out of uniform.”
Jethro barked out a laugh, “Do they even own anything else?”
“Reidar did wear civilian clothes to my party. Though, for all I know, that could have been his only set.”
“Speaking of Reidar, we haven’t seen him once since we went to see the show. Think we’ll see him on Snowsday?”
“Not sure, his last letter mentioned that the assignments were mostly random, and that he could be practically anywhere in the capital for field study.”
Jethro nodded along, then encircled Travis to give him a fit check, “How do you like the colors?”
The teen in question shifted uncomfortably, “Umm, it seems a bit… loud?”
“Does your village not have men wear bright colors to celebrate the summer solstice?”
“Yeah, we have a town celebration where we dye our clothes, but the bright colors fade after getting washed.”
Jethro gave Travis a prod to start walking out, “That’s how the tradition started in the capital here too, but thanks to Ashmen alchemists, our dyes last much longer.”
The two eventually left my vision’s range, and I decided to bring my focus over to the training yard for entertainment. Who knows, maybe today will be the day that Mattius will finally speak more than a single sentence to the girl he’s been crushing on.
Sadly, by the time my focus floated over, the battalion parted to go practice on one of the ridiculous obstacle courses, leaving only Adrian and his tutor in my vision’s range. The two were sparring unarmed, and the still frail looking teen seemed to be holding his own, despite the blindfold on his face.
“You’re not intentionally using your mana sight, right?” The grizzled voice threatened.
“No! I’m not. I swear.” Adrian put up his hands to plead innocence, “I’m only getting a flash after I block your strikes.”
The retired commando narrowed his eyes, then began to carefully step to the side, not allowing his footfalls to make noise. He then lunged forward, but his fist was blocked by Adrian yet again, the Northman’s mana triggering in unison to provide the needed force.
The commando sneered, “Explain. How are you ‘seeing’ my approach?”
Adrian gulped, “Umm… you smell like one of those elven bars that serve stim-leaf drinks.”
The old half-elf’s train of thought must have derailed, because he stood there dumbstruck for a moment before letting out a chuckle, “Looks like your nose is on par with an elf’s.” He reached to pull off Adrian’s blindfold, then gave the teen a pat on the shoulder while they checked for nearby watchers. “Speaking of, one of my old coworkers was able to help, and ‘borrowed’ a file.” They reached into a hidden pocket woven into the back of their jacket, “I can let you read this, but you cannot share its contents with anyone. Even your friends.”
Adrian grasped the folder with shaking hands, then looked to his tutor for affirmation that it was truly ok to open it. His eyes widened as he read and needed his tutor to assist in remaining upright as his breathing became erratic, but he managed to finish reading the document.
“Wow… I… Dad…” Adrian stumbled over his words, clearly unable to orate his thoughts.
The commando took back the folder and tucked it back into its hidden pocket, “I wouldn’t stay too angry at your father. He had good reason to keep your mother a secret.” He gave Adrian a shoulder rub to help center the teen, “Not to put pressure on you, but your life would have been at great risk had you not applied to become a mage. The Queen will be able to keep you protected here but be careful when you’re off campus. Your existence threatens the political balance between the elven and human kingdoms.”
Adrian took in a big breath and forced a smile, “Good thing I won’t be going on any Fall Expeditions.”
The commando nodded in agreement, then cocked their head towards Adrian, “That reminds me, I’ve got something planned for your Fall break, so don’t make any plans.”
“What is it?”
A dark raspy chortle escaped the commando, making Adrian uneasy, “Oh, I won’t spoil the surprise just yet.”