16th of Firstleaf, third month of 984:

“Redo it.” Said Albestus for the fifth time in the last hour. Mulia wiped the parchment clear and started again without as much as a grunt or a sigh, fully focused on her task.

Albestus reclined in his chair and looked at the worn out parchment that had been written on far too many times while new formulae and numbers started to be born from ink. After ten minutes, Muia hovered her right hand just above the spell circle and channelled mana to it.

“Again.” Said Albestus before she had finished.

The difference in the routine this time was a hit on the table by Mulia, followed by angry scribbling. ‘Finally realised that it was a minus. I admire the tenacity to not give up or act rashly.’

The new wave of mana caused the parchment to shine up and clean itself of impurities, turning completely white.

“Good job, I almost thought you would break it before you managed,” Nodded Albestus.

“Was it really that fun to watch me be an idiot for an hour and a half?” Spat Mulia, anger flaring up.

“Indeed it was,” Smirking, Andras continued, “I have never seen a mage apprentice hold their cool as well as you I have to say.”

“You have no idea how much I want to wipe that smirk clear.”

“And your character is improving! Damn, it only took you a month and a half to gain some backbone!” Laughing a bit, “Look at you, talking back and all!”

“The next spell formulae, teacher?” Her gaze nudging him to do something productive instead.

“You wanted illusion magic, right?” Getting away from his chair, he travelled to one of the bookshelves and started to browse the books. “Odd choice for a maid, not that I will judge. Everyone has their own secret passion.” His smirk returning, he pulled ‘Starter principles behind light manipulation and its effects and uses on matter.’ and threw her a wink. ”Mine is….”

A smile trying to break out, she buffed, “Drinking, I know. You have made the same joke at least thirty times.“

Now laughing with average intensity, Albestus passed her the book. Once he calmed down, he continued, “Open page fourteen and start to write it in your diary.” His persona turning to the awarded High Mage he was, he started to explain as Mulia copied the reasoning behind the formulae from the invisibility spell.

“As you know, the main theory behind illusion magic is light manipulation. Everything in this branch originates from the ability to bend the sunrays to your will. From illusions to appearance changes and sailing through the most devastating of spells, it is, in the end, all light.” Putting his words into practice, he quickly formed a spell circle in his left hand. “Even the art of spell casting is based on its manipulation. The spell that I am going to use requires illusion magic to be casted so casually.” Rotating it in its hand, he continued, “While we mages used to craft enchanted wands and staffs that could automatically cast these types of illusion spells, we evolved to the less visible ring.” A ring appearing in his left hand, it slowly banished from sight, ”Returning to the topic at hand, the ‘matter’ of which this spell circle is compromised is in continuous motion.” He took a breath in and gazed at Mulia, who was lost in his explanation as she writted away.

Smiling, he continued, “It picks near light, condenses it and lets it go to generate the illusion of it having a physical form!” As it rotated it started to bleed different colours, red, green, white….” In reality, it is just light that is disguised as matter. Not that the spell itself minds.” Pausing a bit, he asked, “Why do we need to do this? To not overload ourselves. It is an invaluable tool to write the spell you are casting as you think about it, leaving you to focus on the ‘creating part’ and leave the remembering to the illusion.” Caressing his beard with his right hand, he added, “You could say it is the same as writing in that parchment with an extra step. No need to keep the whole spell inside your head if you can avoid it.”

Turning away, he activated the spell and materialised a blackboard which started to copy by itself the page fourteen. “What this book explained in its introduction is a concept I am sure you will catch on quickly. Light is no matter nor it is only energy, it is something in between. The barbarians of the east have made several experiments in which this phenomenon behaved as both matter and energy. A very charming topic but the only thing you have to understand is that this is no water magic. You are now carving an action out of something you can’t touch. You are lowering the entropy and manipulating reality to make it spontaneously follow your commands.” His voice gaining traction, he started to beat around the bush, “What is entropy, you should ask? Well, the Vampire Knight Lazarus described it as the tendency, that all things have, to increase ‘disorder’. In this case we would need to establish what is ‘order’ itself, so he postulated that purer forms of energy are in a more ‘orderly’ states, not that this notion was contrary to the teachings of the Heretic Paulo in which he stated that alive matter is the parangon of ‘order’, as it continuously generates ‘chaos’ for it to stay alive….” Realising he had lost Mulia he started to cough.

“Returning to light itself, the core concept is that expecting it to behave like water is foolish. A campfire has the tendency to emanate heat, energy, but it has several limitations and laws in place. The heat intrudes into the air, which loses density and ascends; the ground absorbs heat more slowly; and it all generates from the destruction of the wood on which it feeds…You get the picture, every type of energy has its ways of traversing through reality.” The blackboard now full, he turned towards her.

“What do you think is the best form to manipulate light?”

Jumping a bit, she started to think. After a few seconds she remembered her morning and, starting to get slightly excited, said, “Mirrors?”

“Exactly!” He nodded happily and continued, “While colours also have the potential to manipulate light, black being one of the best examples, reflective materials and inertia are the best at moving light!”

Albestus launched into another diatribe about the different ways one could manipulate reflected light to both change appearances and on how to do it, not noticing the pass of time.

…………

Empress Valcra retained her cold look, her restless fingers hitting the arm of her throne were the only part of her that moved.

“...the loyalist army is currently engaged in partisan operations while on retreat towards Ice Garder. Our troops are expected to arrive before them and will try to reinforce the northerners before they reach the city.”

“The city state of Plolem is still defiant?” A similar vital strategy point, it was the second entry point of the Great Highway. Having been reduced from a barony to an Imperial Free City, its nobility had some bones to pick against the Empire. Its loss meant that a siege would be necessary to reinforce their forces in the eastern part of the North Duchy. If Ice Garden fell too, they would have no easy way to break the rebels, not when the mud season was coming in full force.

Panic almost taking over the messenger, he shakily said, “Th-they have joined the rebellion with open arms.” He gazed back, to the three duchess that were kneeling in front of the throne. Kiram of the Warmwaters was especially quiet, as it was her armies that had been sent, on her own even, had failed spectacularly in taking the city and had only managed to embolden more the northern rebels.

“Anything more?” Her calm tone appeared almost bored, giving a false sense of security to the messenger, who dared to breathe normally again.

“A missive has been sent, your Holy Majesty.”

Opening the seal, the Empress started to read. After a few seconds a small tick moved her left eyebrow and, with a quick movement of her left hand, fire sprouted from nowhere and bathed the messenger, who started to roll around screaming as he slowly burned to death.

Once silence befell on the throne chamber again, she looked towards one of her High Commanders, who flinched and hailed as quickly as he could.

“Having addressed the North, how are the preparations for the offensive going?” The burning letter in her hands gave little space for more bad news.

“Excellent!! Couldn’t be going more goo…better, our Everlasting Fire!! Everything is as it should be!!” Blatantly lied High Commander Junan, forgetting the small detail of the Empress being able to read minds.

After extracting the truth of the matter, he received the same treatment as the messenger, which made the nearby people jump away and draw away from the new human bonfire.

“Fix the cursed supply lines already!” Raising her voice after losing her cool, she ordered, “Are the heads on your shoulders for decoration?! Should I help myself to a more beautiful palace’s wall?!” The sound of her left hand cracking and breaking the stone arm of her throne made the military men present on The Calling run to their duties with renewed vigour. “You have got a week or I will redecorate the whole capital!!”

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Her freezing gaze fell on the Duchesses, of whom Kiram had paled completely.

“What did you want to report on?” The sheer force behind the question almost crushed them to a grovelling position.

“Shouldn’t we raise a levy to help to deal with the rebellion?” Asked the Duchess of the West, unnerved by the increasing ash in the air.

“Our Empress, I do not think it wise to resume the offensive against the republicans when the north is in chaos.” Added the Duchess of the South.

“So you presume me unwise?” Her eyes flared again.

“Do not listen to these buffoons, m….” Tried to start Kiram, Duchess of the West.

“Silence! You are to talk only when I allow it!” Her gaze returning to Jula, Duchess of the South, after harassing Kiram, she beckoned her to continue.

“I presume this course of action is unwise, yes. Our armies have grown tired and we stand too much to lose in this trade.” Said without raising her head out of respect.

“Them begging the pirates for help is the thing that shows us that this offensive is wise, vassal. If they are so desperate as to resort to a petty distraction they should be at their breaking point. I thought you had a military upbringing, Duchess Jula.”

“That could be. Either that or it's a bait to make us act rash. And, even if it was a move out of desperation, that would only mean economic desperation for their morale has been rather high these last centuries. Their armies will be able to hold out for a few months without pay. Without supplies even less. Nevertheless, in both cases the best tactic would be to wait.”

The Empress scoffed. “Is that all?”

“Yes, your Aflame Majesty.”

“We will continue to proceed under my original command.” ‘You have grown too skilled at hiding from me to be trustworthy, Jula.’

Her gaze turning to look at the rest of the duchess, “More objections?”

A few shakes of heads after that and The Calling was dismissed.

……………….

Trilus, at the head of his small army, marched outwards from Ice Garden to reinforce the last loyalist. His right arm, the metal one, found itself a bit unruly. ‘A bad omen? Exactly what I needed right now.. Zun, grant me the strength to not err on my mission.’ Using his left hand to guide his raptor, an old, red specimen gifter by his now dead father. Reaching three metres in length and one and a half in height, it was a top predator from the east of the continent. Claws that could tear apart a man on powerful and upright legs, similar to bipeds; small but dexterous arms that were dexterous enough to seize prey clad in feathers and ending in four smaller claws that formed a hand; and a head with forward dancing eyes that were skilled in calculating deep and distance.

Endurance runners, they weren’t as fast as their wolven or horse equivalents, but were almost immune to exhaustion and their warm blooded metabolism helped them resist cold temperatures, even if their bigger mass was the greatest contributor to this second hand adaptation. An outer armour of hard scales, fused together, they stood as the social hunters of the deserts, living in harmonious collectives of twenty to thirty members. Not that aggressive, they needed training to become proper mounts.

After a few tugs and a soft tap on its head, ‘Red’ slowed its march a bit, letting him turn to the army he had brought with him. Six thousand elite soldiers marched as one, their equipment shining golden under the blue light of late winter. An additional twenty ‘Fire Corps’ members marched with them. Cladded in clunky armour, they carried enormous backpacks filled to the brim with oil, tangled with pipelines and metal wires. On the end of this, an enchanted metal cylinder stood, binded to these backpacks.

With ‘pest masks’, full face covering pieces of gear that recycled the air that was introduced by its large ‘snot’ full of holes, they were the ‘damager dealers’ of the Imperial Army. Shuddering after remembering the carnage their inextinguishable flames bestowed upon the battlefields they were deployed on, he thanked Zun again, this time for letting only twenty share this conflict.

His gaze proudly resting on the men he had marched shoulder to shoulder, risking death several times, he nodded and returned his eyesight to the front.

‘For the Ashen Household to be the one spearheading the resistance movement… Truly, we are cursed to go against our creed and to fight against the movements that ache to change the same things we ourselves hate for our loyalty. I hope we will be able to meet, comrades of faith, and I will pray for your safety.’

His second in command, Higher Commander Jess, rode towards him and hailed.

“Speak your mind.”

“We have received an urgent communication. The retreating forces have decided to focus on evacuating the surrounding villages. While they have been allowed to leave with enough supplies, they have requested to send a few men to direct them in case anything wrong happens on their retreat.”

“Send the sixth scout team, they will manage.” His metal thumb softly taping on Red, he added, “Along with a cart of food. Maybe they will need it.”

Hailing again, Jess left to do his binding. If he could be proud of something, it was elaborating a true chain of command, a thing often overlooked and the only thing that had saved his defence of the eastern frontiers of the Empire. Before she could go too far away, he ordered.

“Call the first too.”

A nod and a few minutes later, the scout commander arrived.

“What did you require, sigma?” Snarled Lightfeet, a wolfwoman on the smaller side of her race, even if the females tend to be the bigger specimen.

“Redouble the patrols, the air reeks of undead.”

“Yes, yes. Will do.” Said, nodding, the scout.

…………….

“I apologise for my cowardice.” Regretted, bowing, Johan, as it had deemed far too dangerous hit and run attacks with the cavalry they had left. Eve, who was next to Noct, scoffed.

“Of no consequence. It is more important to conserve our numbers than to whittle them down.” Reassured Noct. He was back at leading their march as he had already discarded his cane.

Hailing, Johan left the comitive of High Commanders to return to his duties.

After a few seconds, Kraus started, moving a bit on his horse, “Wouldn’t that turn our strategy useless? They are dealing too easily with the mines.” Repressing a shudder after remembering what he had seen in the mirror earlier that day, he continued, “I am sure they would face low risk with enchanted crossbows.”

“You forget they also have those, High Commander.” Retorted Andras, “And they have been steadily destroying scouting parties. We are blinding them and biting them. At one moment they will have to slow down.” Gazing at Noct, whose forehead had started to house small drops of sweat while he was doing his best to not appear as if he was holding onto Eve, Andras continued. “More so, it doesn’t appear that they want to catch up to us if they have to rush. With precaution and heightened vigilance we will keep our upper hand.”

Lantraz nodded and interjected, “If they start to rush, a well planned ambush will cause them heavy damage. If they slow down, we gain time. We have no need to act on our initiative. Time is on our side after all…” Its hand turning to feel his shield, he countered himself with, “...only if we can maintain an harassment worthy of our efforts. Their barbaric methods, while exhaustible, are effective. We have done no harm.”

“We will do better. They should have lost around…nine carts? That will have just destroyed two days of food….” He knew his plan was going to be impractical, but not to this extent. Remembering an old battlefield, he surged, “...How many familiars can your mages generate, Kal?”

Kal turned to him and, after half a minute, simply said, “About, five per mage?”

“Andras, how much oil do we still have?”

Andras, confused by the sudden question, started to think for a bit, mirroring Kal. “Half a barrel?”

“And paper?” Noct’s frustration after the bad news hastened Andras' reply.

“That we have in spares, a lot of soldiers bring lett…You can’t be…”

“And I will. Kal, bring the mages to me.”

Eve interrupted and whispered, “If you do follow this plan, no matter if it goes well or wrong, we will be unable to continue our surveillance.”

“To my chagrin, I agree with Kraus’s first statement. Our current strategy is useless. Out with it then.”

Kraus, not knowing what his words had to do with the growing fear on Andras' part nor with the sudden request to bring all the paper to the mages, asked, “What is the new strategy, if I am allowed to know, Lord Noct?”

Noct smirked and said, “Fireworks.”

“May Krillamesh spit acid on me! The last time you almost burned the whole campament!!” Snapped Andras, “Calling that madman excuse of a planned strategy a plan is insulting to all military commanders!”

“Didn’t we win?” Said Noct, a bit roughly.

“That’s not the…” Seeing the looks of his fellow High Commanders, he calmed down and said, “So be it. I will carry out your orders, my Lord.”

“Then, the three of you, get to work.”

…………..

‘Thank Elenia night has come.’ The throbbing of his damaged knee making him fall once he entered his tent, he weakly exhaled. Raising again he now dropped on his cloth sheet. Heated after having to force Eve out before he collapsed, he turned his head to the left. The shadows slowly taking forms, his mind returned to the day of their retreat. ‘...I will not ask for your forgiveness, old friend, but, Litro, you deserved more than to be cut down by an old comrade.’

The noises of imaginary fire now surrounding him, he continued to think about what he ought to do with his leg. ‘Since Lantraz and Sorak cured my ‘grey mana’ poisoning, my magic has dropped in effectiveness. I was cursed since birth with a lower mana capacity, and this so-called curse was the only thing that I could use to even the field.’ He was no battle mage, he had picked and mastered some dark magic spells and much of fire magic. Nonetheless, he was no more than a magic binder, and in the next battle they would be outnumbered and outskilled.

A bit of fear in his eyes, he started to craft a spell circle he had grown used to in the ground. ‘It had hurted like Nether itself.’

…………..