CONFIDENTIAL – Q1 ACCESS REQUIRED
ENCRYPTED MESSAGE TRANSCRIPTION LOG
AGENT CHARCOAL: Made initial contact with target “Farmboy”. He seems like a normal teenage boy. Didn’t show adverse reaction to P3’s acceptance to his party initially, and looked more terrified than annoyed once given information about P3. Will continue observing.
CHARCOAL: Finished establishing my cover, have had time to speak with Farmboy. Above average intelligence, is as physically fit as a spartan, and has a mana pool to match. Seems too wise for a teenager his age though.
CHARCOAL: Was shown the weapon Farmboy created. Haft is made of Aelderwood and weapon head is a modified halberd. Farmboy was adamant though that the creation was called a poleaxe. Requesting transmission of any previous weapons using that name.
RAVEN 2: No record of any weapon named or of type “poleaxe”, please provide detailed description when giving written report.
CHARCOAL: Witnessed Farmboy take time to play with young child using magic. Used only Orb spells, a crude Earth enchantment, and a Message spell that only transmitted sound. Seemed genuinely happy to do so. Only odd behavior so far of note is apparent inability to dance, or remember names easily.
RAVEN 2: Red Feather requests possible identity of Farmboy.
CHARCOAL: Unsure, no obvious identity. Currently shows traits of, or connections to, Beaver, Armadillo, Deer, Wolf, and Bison. Will perform additional sweep before returning.
CHARCOAL: Found artwork in Farmboy’s room. Clearly displayed, as if to taunt me. Can confirm target is Deer.
END OF LOG
---
Reidar
3 Days After Travis’ Academy Acceptance Party
Reidar stood in the hallway doing his best to not pace. His anxiety had been slowly building over the past month, the long delay in not receiving his next assignment was well out of the norm, and implied that there was a complication on deciding where to place him.
He personally was confused as to why; he was ahead of the curve for learning to trigger their mana consciously, got great marks in combat and first aid when assessed, and didn’t have a single demerit on record.
‘Well, there is that one thing…’
The young spartan let out a deep sigh. He’d answered his question; he lacked socialization skills.
With the ever-growing number of knights and mages each year, the need for improved inter-forces cooperation and communication was needed. The current Queen even ordered the inclusion of arts, etiquette, and other activities to help “normalize” the Spartans after a few deadly incidents were caused due to culture clashes.
Reidar’s inability to quickly relax and drop the formalities around someone new wouldn’t have been an issue under a former queen. In fact, some would have preferred his constant military professionalism that only disappeared when sitting down with his first squad for dinner. But that was a previous era, and he simply didn’t fit in to the mold of what a current spartan should be.
It wasn’t like he did it intentionally or hid himself in his room to prevent social interactions, he just found it difficult to warm up to someone new. It had been that way since he was little. He had no problem playing with his own squad, but he always preferred them over the other kids.
His problem grew worse as he got older though, especially in recent years, now that the possibility of dating someone was a reality. During the last spartan-only social event he attended right after he turned 18, it felt like he had to constantly swim upriver the entire night. Everyone else had no problems talking to each other, or in some cases getting intimate and then wandering off together.
He did get approached by a few people, likely assuming he was only nervous, but he just couldn’t set his shield down when they tried to get “closer”. The infuriating part was that he did want to, he just couldn’t… it didn’t feel…
Reidar leaked out a small groan. He once spent half an hour struggling to describe it to his squad leader for life Braxton (or his “dad” as some non-Spartans like to call), but after finally exhausting himself from venting his frustration, the only thing Braxton did was pat him on the shoulder and say, “A lot of boys like girls, some prefer other boys, some like both, and a few don’t like any. What’s important is that you find someone that you trust and feel comfortable around, after that, it should hopefully work itself out.”
It was the first time he had ever wanted to strike Braxton in anger.
The sound of an opening door pulled him out of his mind, and a decorated officer from the logistics corps stepped out, “Reidar? We’re ready for you now.”
Ok, time to face the stampede.
Reidar nodded to confirm, then carefully marched into the room, stepping both gently to reduce the noise of his clanking armor and firmly to ensure a proper fighting stance. He stopped before the table of officers, aligning himself with the center figure, then performed the same United Human Kingdom’s salute that he’d been executing since he was five. Left arm held to the chest in a 90-degree angle while making a fist, then right forearm overlapping in front, right hand in a fist since he was greeting fellow military.
He then stood at attention, the only visible movements from him were the subtle shift from one foot to the other to allow a quick reaction speed, and his eyes making a quick scan of the table’s occupants.
On the far left was his primary drill instructor, Spartan Major Aarav. Next was one of his magic instructors, Master Wood Mage Dorcas. In the middle was a person that would make him shiver down to his boots had he not been trained in military decorum, Spartan General Zadock, one of the second highest ranking Spartans in the kingdom.
To his right was a Brigadier General from the Logistics Corps that Reidar didn’t recognize. Then someone the young spartan had personally worked with during the flood, Major Medic Amabilis Sartre. She snuck Reidar a smile when his eyes met hers, but he remained professional as he took in the people seated off to the side of the room.
Braxton was in the front row along with a couple of his squad siblings. There was also a Royal Knight, a Commando, and a half dozen other Spartans and Logistic Corps members.
Reidar’s breathing remained steady, his posture perfect, and his outward demeanor completely stoic. Internally though, he wanted to panic, he wanted to scream, he wanted to escape whatever twisted nightmare he’d stepped into, because there was absolutely no reason for this many high-ranking officers to be present for a mere assignment of duties ceremony.
General Zadock broke the silence, “Junior Spartan Reidar. Title earned this Secondmonth with top marks in shields, one-handed weapons, snares, wilderness survival, and field medicine. During the recent Spring Flood, reported to Major Medic Amabilis Sartre as a surgery assistant and orderly for high danger patients. Recently applied to specialize in Wood Mana. Currently no job assignment.”
He looked up from the paper he read off, “Any corrections to be made?”
“No Sir.”
General Zadock nodded his head, then turned to receive a nod from each officer at the table, “At ease Spartan. For the remainder of this hearing, you are allowed, and even encouraged, to speak freely. Nothing you state will negatively impact your career, we only ask that you be honest with your words and generally respectful, but should you feel the need, go right ahead and insult anyone in this room. Even me.”
‘What is going on? Hearing? Did I do something wrong?’
The Four Crownwork General motioned to one of the small piles of folders in front of him and the Brigadier General, “It’s not uncommon for different departments to compete over a talented soldier. However, the number of job offers for you has grown to an unprecedented amount in the last few days. The purpose of this hearing is to receive your input on determining your next assignment.”
The Brigadier General spoke next, “Are there any concerns or questions you’d like to bring forth before we begin?”
Reidar’s mind raced, but his outward composure remained steady, he had dozens of questions forming now, and knew that despite his training, there was a limit to how long he could remain steadfast before the pressure made him buckle. He decided on his question and began by making a showing of looking around at all the people in the room, “This seems quite out of the ordinary.”
Stifled chuckles leaked out of the crowd of witnesses and even General Zadock gave one of his rare grins. He patted the stack of folders closest to him, “You’re quite correct, normally an assignment of duties for a Junior Spartan can be done by someone as low ranked as a Captain if none of the specialized divisions submit job offers, or by a Brigadier General if there is one, but one of your offers requires my authority in particular.”
The Brigadier General turned to the old Spartan, “Perhaps it would be best to get Spartan Reidar’s unbiased thoughts before he hears his offers?”
General Zadock nodded, “Agreed.” He turned to a page in Reidar’s file and faced the young Spartan, “To start, your request to specialize in Wood Mana has been approved.” he made a small grunt of amusement, “It looks like you were having difficulties keeping to regulation mana distribution. Can’t say that I’ve seen an affinity fight to stay active in a recruit before.”
Wood Mage Dorcas leaned in, “It’s a recent discovery we’ve noticed now that we’re able to expand mana distribution testing. Reidar here is one of the example cases of fully human Spartan Recruits not having their affinity immediately disappear, and why we’ve been pushing the inclusion of Section 13-C in the Queen’s proposed Armed Forces Integration law.”
“Can we leave the politics for later?” Major Aarav interjected with a scowl, then turned to Reidar, “Reidar, did you enjoy your last assignment?”
‘I was ordered to speak honestly; they’ll take insult if I don’t do so…’
“Not at first. I was upset that I wasn’t placed in a regular squad for the Spring Flood, despite turning eighteen, and was placed far behind the defensive line. My opinion did change after working with Major Medic Amabilis Sartre. Witnessing even common foot soldiers become afflicted with Stage 3 mana sickness made me realize how much danger the medical teams put themselves under to provide triage.”
Amabilis smiled at Reidar, “It was quite the sight seeing you cuss under your breath when securing some of our most violent patients your first day.”
General Zadock turned to a different page in the file before him, “The Major here gave you high commendations, stating that you not only learned quickly, but became her preferred suture surgeon due to your steady hands and calm attitude.” He looked up at Reidar, “Is that something you’d be interested in continuing?”
“Yes.”
The room remained silent, but upon realizing that Reidar wasn’t going to continue, General Zadock let out an audible sigh, then flipped to a different page in Reidar’s file.
“How about we address the duck in the room. Your psych profile has several flags that would normally hinder you from receiving some of these job assignments.” He gestured to the pile of folders, “You’re within accepted mental tolerances, and there’s addendums from your therapist stating that you have been actively working on and have shown improvement in some areas, but ‘has difficulty engaging in casual conversations, even with fellow Spartans’ and ‘has difficulty forming friendships’ is something most squad leaders aren’t going to want to deal with.”
Reidar remained still, but the observant in the room could notice that his breathing became unsteady, and that his eyes grew watery. It was what he dreaded going in. Torbolt’s tenet to his followers to show comradery towards each other was ingrained in every spartan. Death and sorrow could come at any time, and a support structure was needed to help cope with the losses that were destined to occur.
The table paused to allow Reidar to speak, but after hearing nothing, the Brigadier General decided to fill the silence, “You’re not the first spartan to have this problem and I doubt will be the last. Had you not received any offers, you would have been placed in a long-term general assignment, most likely trade route security. But… an after-action report you filed, describing how you made friends with a newly titled knight and ward, alleviated many of the worries about you.”
Braxton let out a small groan and even facepalmed while Reidar’s squad siblings fought to hold back laughter. Reidar took notice, confused about the reaction, wasn’t he supposed to file one after every mission? Regardless, he had to make a correction.
“Sir, I did not state that we became friends, merely that I spent the night in their company.”
The Brigadier smiled, “Didn’t you receive an open invitation to visit the knight’s estate, and also a personal invite to the ward’s Mages Academy acceptance party two days later?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” the Brigadier General chortled out, “if that’s not the sign of a budding friendship, then I clearly don’t know anything.” He tilted his head towards the pile of folders in front of him, “Would you like to hear the offers you received?”
Reidar took a breath and considered the question, but wanted clarification on something first, “Not yet. I would like to know how that single after-action report caused so many offers.”
“Well, it wasn’t just that report,” The Brigadier General admitted, “your recently acquired fame caused recruiters to give your file a second glance.”
Reidar fought back a scowl that tried to penetrate his wall of professionalism. Travis’ stunt certainly made him uncomfortable that night, especially when he enacted his hidden second part, and the disdainful looks he got from the nobles in attendance only compounded the issue. He did enjoy dancing and conversing with the princess, Travis’ setup of making it a mission helped alleviate the gut-wrenching awkwardness, but the entire ordeal completely exhausted him emotionally by the end of the night after his second wind ended.
General Zadock pulled the top folder from the pile of job assignments in front of him, “It should be noted that one of these offers was filed a month ago but took some time for initial approval. It’s a unique offer and the reason I’m here.”
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
‘A month ago? So, before all of this attention was placed on me?’
“I would like to hear that one first.”
The old spartan hesitated briefly, but eventually spoke, “This offer is an exemption signed by the Queen, allowing you to enroll at Sigurd the Archmage’s Academy for the Gifted. It would strip you of the title Spartan, replacing it with Initiate Wood Mage, and would replace your benefits and privileges to that of a commoner turned mage.”
Reidar was left dumbstruck, and it even showed on his face.
Major Amabilis was amused at the sight, “I submitted a petition to the Queen on your behalf shortly after the flood. Yes, your bedside manner could use improvement, but your skill as a surgeon and spellcaster far outshines that blemish. You shouldn’t have been prevented from joining the Mage’s Academy just because you’re not a noble or commoner.”
Wood Mage Dorcas added in, “The coursework shouldn’t be too difficult for you at first. You could probably even skip your first semester, but some of those professors have been teaching longer than I am alive and have far more knowledge tucked away in their heads.”
Major Aarav grunted to gain the attention of the table, “I don’t like how you’re treating one of my former recruits as a political tool. Spartans have been kept separated from the nobles for a reason. The thought of asking Reidar first never went through your heads, did it?”
Reidar’s mind was racing, and it felt like the room was beginning to spin as well.
‘The Queen made an exception for me? I’d be joining Travis at school? Wait, I wouldn’t be a Spartan anymore?’
Reidar trembled at the thought of his last question, he took great pride in his title of Spartan. Would his squad siblings that haven’t yet or failed to obtain it grow angry at him for discarding it? He turned to Braxton and his squad siblings in attendance and fought a losing battle to keep back his tears.
The squad leader for life looked crestfallen, but managed to speak, “You’ll always be a member of my squad, not even a god could take that away.”
Reidar’s squad siblings nodded along with Braxton, giving Reidar the reassurance to accept his new offer. Afterall, how could he say no to the Queen? She went through the hassle of hearing the petition and agreeing to the exemption from the law. It would be a grave insult to the crown to make her effort meaningless. He wasn’t sure why the officers even bothered to bring up that he had other offers.
He turned back to General Zadock to receive his assignment, placing his left hand into his pouch of personal belongings, then fumbled past his toy spartan and stamped coin so he could grasp the idol he had received from Travis. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with it, but he could almost feel Travis give one of his calming pats as he rubbed his thumb over the carving of the shield.
‘Well, on the bright side, I’ll have a friend there. Plus, Burguk will be working there as a chef for his training, so the food should be adequately portioned.’
General Zadock didn’t look happy, “You look upset Reidar. Anything you’d like to share?”
Reidar stood there trembling, “It would be an insult to the Queen to turn down that offer.”
General Zadock stood up, holding the offer in hand, “Let’s talk in private.” He led the emotional teen over to the corner of the room, then cast [Sound Aura] to block off any sound from coming in or leaving.
He placed a hand on Reidar’s shoulder, “Between just you and me, I don’t like this one bit. I’m not against sending Spartans to the Mage’s Academy but stripping off our identity as Spartans reeks of political malfeasance. I’m positive those two mages are going to try and rope you into joining their families the second you step onto campus.” Zadock shook his head, “Lazy bastards can’t be bothered to raise their own mages or recruit from the commoners, would rather rob us after we do the hard part.”
He locked eyes with Reidar, “I need you to be honest with me Spartan, do you want to become a mage? I won’t fault you for wanting to. But you also have other offers, and while yes, you only got them because you danced with a princess, they aren’t asking you to discard your title.”
“I… I just want to help keep people safe. It’s part of why I chose field medicine. Becoming a noble…” Reidar’s voice trailed off, no longer having the energy or words to continue.
General Zadock smirked, “Is not something you’ve ever wanted or fantasized about.” Reidar nodded in agreement. The older spartan pulled away his hand, then held it upright to cast a [Fire Orb], then gestured with the folder in his other hand, “Say the word and I’ll tell the Queen and those scheming nobles to raise their spears in a storm.”
Reidar gasped, “What? No, you can’t…”
Zadock gave a malevolent grin, “Did you forget that I’m a Four Crownwork General? I’m one of the handful of Spartans that can tell the Queen no.”
He angled a corner of the folder to the flame and let it catch on fire. Reidar’s eyes widened at the sight, unable to believe what he was seeing, and watched as the folder burned to a complete crisp.
Zadock cancelled his Orb spell and studied Reidar’s reaction, “How do you feel?”
Reidar felt his mind cycle through multiple emotions before finally settling down. He let out a deep sigh of relief, “Like I no longer have a spear pointed at my back.”
The General gave the teen a pat on the shoulder, “Why don’t you take a few minutes to freshen up, and we’ll go over the other offers. Luckily for you, that was the only offer we needed a decision on today, so you’ll have a few days to decide.”
Reidar nodded, then left to go rinse off his face in the washroom. General Zadock sat down in his chair with a content look on his face, ignoring the glares that the two mages were giving him.
The Brigadier General leaned into whisper, “I knew you multi-Crownwork Spartan Generals had thick trunks, but I never thought I’d see one burn a missive from the Queen.”
General Zadock smirked, “I’m not that daft, I burned the copy we were going to give Reidar.”
The Brigadier General stared at his superior officer for a long moment, then pointed to the stack of folders on front of him, “Umm, are you sure about that? I thought that I had the copies?”
The old Spartan’s face flipped to one of dread as he hastily reached for the stack in front of the other officer. He grabbed the file in question and cursed upon seeing the lack of a signature at the bottom.
“Maybe she’ll find the situation humorous?”
Zadock groaned.
---
Reidar looked up at the massive structure, it reminded him of the homes Ashmen live in, with how practically every surface was covered in plants. The nearby aqueduct brought in a tremendous amount of water that provided irrigation and even a few water features to the landscape, making him almost feel as if he was traversing a forest.
He clutched his backpack, then cursed himself for not instead wearing his formal arming jacket that had green identification lines sewn into the wood-fiber fabric. At least it wasn’t Woodsday, the place would no doubt be packed if it was. He took one more breath to calm himself and entered the Church of Apheros through the massive wooden doors.
It was much different than the church he went to with his first squad. That one had only limited lighting and didn’t have planter boxes strewn about everywhere. It looked like it did have rooms for people to come seek counseling, but they looked much smaller. Though that made sense, Torbolt’s priests specialized in post combat trauma, and often did group therapy sessions to help people not feel isolated. If he remembered right, Apheros’ priests specialized in marriage counseling.
He sadly had no clue where to go and was about to pull out his book before a young woman about his age approached him.
“Excuse me, but you wouldn’t happen to be Travis by chance?”
That raised an eyebrow on Reidar’s face, “No, my name is Reidar, Spartan of the Queen.”
The brown-haired girl with the braids gave a quick bow, “My apologies sir, I was told to keep an eye out for a young Lakelander.”
That was a first, most people said he looked more like a Northman, just with brown hair. Although, it was still spring, most Lakelanders wouldn’t have begun to tan yet.
“Are you a priest of this church?”
The girl blushed, and fluttered her green eyes towards the spartan, “No, I’m still only an acolyte. Was there something you needed assistance with? I can get someone to help.”
“Yes, I need help finding the shrine dedicated to Apheros’ Domain of Protection.”
“Oh, I can show you the way. Follow me.”
The two walked further into the church, entering the main hall with the glass ceiling and entrances leading to the altars that were dedicated to the individual tenets of Apheros.
The young woman gestured toward the altar, “Here it is. Was there anything else?”
“No, I will be fine.”
She bowed, then left the small hall.
Reidar let out a breath, then looked to the altar. It was like the carving that Travis had given to him, but much larger and in far more detail. The shield leaning against the trunk of the tree looked a proper size for wielding, had multiple gouges and scrapes etched into it, and the backlighting from a nearby hanging lantern gave it a majestic appearance.
He sat down in one of the benches in front of the altar and opened his bag to pull out the folders containing his job offers, the idol Travis had given him, and a book he recently purchased from a kind elven woman at the bookstore. He picked up the book titled, How to Forge a Connection to a New God, and opened to the page he had marked.
‘Ok, first step is to decide on a tenet that matches the goal that you yourself would like to embody.’ Reidar looked up at the shield, then back down towards the book, ‘Protection of burgeoning life. Next step is to recite an appropriate prayer to act as the initial handshake with the god you wish to make a connection to.’
Reidar turned to another page that he had marked and was deciding which prayer he was about to speak when a pair of loud voices began to echo in the hall.
“Marceles! You old tomcat, it’s been years. What are you doing here in the capital?” A middle-aged man in a green robe spoke to an individual wearing heavy plate mail.
“Kolen, it has been quite a few years.” The grey-haired, but still young and broad shouldered Lakelander greeted the cleric with a handshake. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure. The Archbishop called me up, saying it was urgent, but when I get here, I can’t find the old doe or High Paladin Eozen anywhere.”
“Oh, you have been gone for a long time. Eozen’s dead.”
“What? What happened?”
“Oh, you may want to sit for this one, he started shedding about four years ago, finally died over the winter.”
Marceles stood there mouth a gape, but eventually was able to kick his boat away from the sandbar, “I thought he wasn’t much older than me.”
“He wasn’t, he spent his 60th birthday bedridden from the lack of disease immunity.”
“But… how? I’ve heard of knights and paladins shedding before they turn 72, but that’s because they were heavily injured or suffered Stage 4 mana sickness and had to be operated on.”
The cleric shook their head, “The idiot was using mana gems to discharge their mana, wrecked their membrane so bad that it started bleeding mana.”
Marceles shook his head, “So who’s High Paladin now?”
“Hawthorn, for now.”
“That idiot?! Wait, what do you mean ‘for now?’”
Kolen began to chuckle, “Well, that ‘idiot’ got not just us, but every single church representative banned from entering the Mage’s Academy’s grounds. And from the sounds of it, might be causing a ripple effect. I’ve heard rumors that the church has been receiving fewer event invitations.”
Marceles scowled, “I told them a dozen years ago to stop that rot. Nobles don’t like having their investments stolen from them.”
“Then you should have stuck around, instead of having your little hissy fit.” the cleric teased. “A good number of us wanted you to take over as High Paladin, but since you were absent, we had to make do.”
The paladin snarled at Kolen, “It was hardly over something that petty.”
The cleric put up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.” He put his hands back down once the paladin stopped glaring, “I was about to go get lunch, want to join? I owe you at least a keg’s worth of drinks by now.”
“I’ll join you in a bit, got to say a prayer to the shrine first, haven’t done that yet.”
The two separated, and the sound of heavy armor-clad footfalls began to approach the altar Reidar was seated in front of. He quickly put his head down, scolding himself for getting so easily distracted, and tried to focus on deciding which prayer to use.
Marceles stopped in front of the altar, bowed his head in submission, then turned around to sit on the front bench the opposite side of the aisle. He took notice at the sight of a spartan but kept whatever thoughts he had to himself as the bench groaned from the sudden weight placed on it. He then fumbled around his pouches, eventually finding the idol he carried and held it in his hands while keeping his head bowed.
Reidar kept going through the possible prayers he had marked but kept searching as none of them seemed to express what he hoped to convey.
‘Maybe that one? I’d have to swap father for squad leader and… wait, no, that would make the whole thing nonsensical.’
A scowl finally infiltrated Reidar’s face and he set the book down in a huff. He wasn’t trying to find the right prayer, he was stalling. He closed his eyes; regretting having come here.
“Everything all right?”
Reidar opened his eyes to see the paladin must have noticed his frustration.
“I made a mistake in coming here.” Reidar spoke, then began to pack his bag, starting with the job offers and book, then stowing the idol.
The paladin cocked his head, “Why do you say that?”
Reidar sighed as he considered the question,“I enjoy testing myself in combat, but I prefer having a reason to fight, and thought that maybe since I have a Wood Mana affinity, that Apheros might be a better fit for me than Torbolt, but I don’t think I belong here.”
A few barks of laughter followed by a deep sigh escaped the armored man, “I feel that way around here too sometimes.” He gestured with his hand, “Here, scoot over, I saw you having trouble trying to pick out a prayer, but I can show you a trick that doesn’t require one.”
The young spartan acquiesced and made room for the over-the-hill aged man who pulled out the idol he had used earlier for prayer.
“Do you have an idol? I’ve got an extra if you need.”
“Yes, I do.”
Reidar reached into his bag and pulled his idol back out.
The paladin whistled, “How’d you manage to get one carved out of Aelderwood?”
“I received it from a friend.”
“Hmm, that’s a good friend you got.” He wiggled the tiny idol in his hand, “Lot of paladins and clerics like to use elmek horns or ironwood since they can make the idols bigger, but I prefer using bushtail antlers since they can hold a lot more Wood Mana. Yours will do nicely, Aelderwood will hold even more, and will barely leak much over time.”
The paladin shifted to a comfortable sitting position with the small idol held between his hands and motioned for Reidar to do the same, “Now, what we’re going to do is infuse the idol with Wood Mana, but not in the same way Mages do.” He paused, to give a nervous laugh, then leaned into whisper, “Just remembered that I’m not supposed to share this technique with those outside the church. You can keep a secret right?”
Reidar shifted awkwardly but didn’t get a chance to answer before the paladin continued, “Thought so. Now start by making the thinnest string of Wood Mana that you can manage and burrow it into the idol.”
Reidar did as instructed, until his line of Wood Mana had gone straight through the middle the long way through the idol.
“Good, now send a couple more lines down parallel to it… excellent start. For the next string, go with a thicker strand and wind your mana around the previous strings in a loop tight enough to squeeze them together but not break.”
The older man watched Reidar carefully bundle the strings of mana together and smiled, “Wow, first try. I think it took me twelve dozen times to get the hang of it. Well, final step is to remove the thicker strand and repeat the process.”
Reidar turned his head after retracting the thick strand of Wood Mana, “I’ve had relevant training in my field medicine courses, including the use of Wood Mana to suture together open wounds.”
“This will be good training for you then. I once spent an entire day and night sewing a guy’s leg back on. No way I would have been able to keep concentration that long without learning this technique.”
The two then focused on their idols, slowly feeding in new strands of Wood Mana, then bundling them together to create a rope of mana strands inside their idols.
They kept going for nearly a half hour, until Reidar broke the silence, “I don’t understand, what is the purpose of this?”
The paladin began to chuckle, “The idea is that by performing a repetitive motion that requires just enough skill and patience that your mind can wander, but not too much, allows you to organize your thoughts and feelings. Since Apheros’ element is Wood Mana, you’ll be able to direct your thoughts towards him easier and focus on the tenet that you wish to emulate.”
Reidar nodded his head and continued for a few more minutes before suddenly turning back to the paladin, “You said you could get into trouble for teaching me this?”
“The upper clergy want to keep this technique hidden in the undergrowth, but I’d be genuinely shocked if the dwarven Artificers don’t already know about this technique. It’s a form of inscription that doesn’t require mana gems or dust. If you keep pumping mana into an object and compressing it, you’ll eventually get it to somewhat crystalize. It doesn’t last even remotely as long without constant upkeep, and the initial formation takes a tremendous amount of patience and time to create. We’ve been at it for what, nearly half an hour? I doubt you’re even close to compressing enough mana to create an array line.”
Reidar looked back down at his idol and gave a grunt of affirmation. The paladin gave the young spartan a pat on the shoulder, then stood up to give his arms a stretch, “Well, I think you’ll be fine on your own now. Although, who knows? Maybe Apheros will help out and give you a blessing.”
“I read about that, but the text was confusing. What exactly is a blessing?”
“There are two main types. The first I would describe more as a gift or intervention; these can go unnoticed since the god affects the world around the person receiving it. A child misses getting hit by a carriage due to a wheel breaking, a cook creates a new dish due to a spice container being mislabeled, or maybe some down on her luck woman who writes fanfiction accidentally crashes into a publisher.”
“The second type are what I consider true blessings. To receive one, you must make a deep and intimate connection to a god. That allows the god to let you access a sliver of their domain.”
Reidar listened with rapt attention, though was slightly annoyed, “That is a much clearer definition than the one in my book.”
“That’s because we’re not supposed to tell anyone. Otherwise, the public might discover how few actual blessings are given out.” He smirked at the teen, “A lot of people ‘think’ they have received one, but trust me, you’ll know when you get one.”
The older man gave a nod, then left the hall, leaving Reidar alone once more. He took a few moments to digest the encounter, then reached into his bag to pull out the job offers. He then spent the next few hours compressing mana into his idol, thinking out the pros and cons of each job. He had a variety to choose from. One would place him in a squad of spartans at one of the northernmost watchtowers of the kingdom. Another was from a mixed group of commandos and survival expert spartans that eliminated the monsters attempting to attack the currently under construction canal from Aelder’s Tree Fortress to the southern sea.
The process ended up being quite relaxing. The constant threading of mana made him unable to grow too emotional, lest he damage the strings of Wood Mana. Eventually he went over one offer that he initially felt apprehensive about, but after thinking it over with a calm mind, realized that it was perfect for him. It’d be tough, and would challenge him greatly, but if he succeeded…
‘Well, I think I’ve decided.’
Good choice bud! Don’t worry, I’ll have your back.
Reidar dropped the idol he held with a yelp.