We’d already had reports from our scouts. The Silvestrians were advancing upon us, they were a mere two weeks from our city.The Lord of the city, Ergon Germa Nidar, had everyone capable of doing so reinforcing our defenses since we got the news. I looked down the wall as a cool breeze blew through my hair, making it even messier than before. We had a moat but the Lord insisted we dig as many ditches in circles around the walls. And so we had been digging for almost a week. Each ditch was at least three meters long and two deep with one foot long wooden spikes covered in shit. It helped that the men had been adding more since we installed them. Dirt was piled around the base of our walls, about a foot high. The children and younger men had been collecting fist sized stones from all over the fields and had been piling them up near the walls where we could reach them quickly. The blacksmith had been working double time making arrows, spears, and ammunition for our six ballistae. Everyone was working to make the inside of the city as fire resistant as possible. We were fine on food as we had finished collecting our harvest just a few days before the news came that the Silvestrians had passed the border and were advancing deeper into Proell.
The farmers were now being equipped with whatever weapons they could use. The older men had fought in the fyrd to try and conquer Silvestris in the last war, but this was the first time the younger ones, such as myself, were to fight in battle. A chilly breeze hit me, carrying the faint scent of water. I looked up to see the dark storm clouds approaching closer. By our best calculations we would have at least four ditches dug before the Silvestrians crest the horizon. Thankfully if there was a siege we have a well in the middle of our city, so water wouldn't be a problem. There is a reason we are the first line of defense against the Silvestrians in the north, our city is likely the best equipped to stop an invading force. Even with such defenses, we had sent for reinforcements as soon as we heard of the breach. We asked for four regiments of infantry and three of archers. Even though all of our men were accomplished archers, having been trained since birth, we did not have many numbers and so a counter attack was out of the question. Not that we planned to, but it was good to have the option.
I sighed as the chilly breeze caused me to pull my cloak around me tighter and continued patrolling the walls nodding to the other guards I passed. We guards were mostly orphans from the surrounding villages. And as such we were trained to fight since we were children, allowing some to rise to the level of knight and serve the King directly. In fact the King's son in law was raised as we were. He was orphaned at two years old but was raised here, in Proell’s second largest city, and became a knight, and when his commander died at the southern front in the middle of battle, he took charge and wrested a victory from the Silvestrians in the Battle of the Dark Fen. For his actions he was made a commander under General Bernad. He led our armies to victory after victory. He was unstoppable and his legend grew. The undefeatable Sword of Proell, his reputation grew to such a level that when enemy armies found they were fighting the Sword of Proell they would surrender rather than be wiped out.
In an insanely short amount of time he rose to the rank of Royal General, after the old one retired, apparently due to strange circumstances. He was given his own fiefdom and married the first in line to the throne, Princess Sypha. When the old king finally croaks, he will be king; Queen Consort at least. I still remembered him, he was only five years older than me. He was a very kind person, though he loved playing tricks. He was clever but he was prone to mischief. I still remembered the time when the older children were bullying me. He had taken on all three of them single-handedly. He did not get out without taking a few hits of course, but he gave those three a good thrashing nonetheless. I still remember his face leaning over me, split lip, swollen brown eye, and a bloody nose. He reached out his hand and pulled me up. Since then I hadn’t left his side, at least not until he was knighted and sent to the southern front. Sometimes I wonder if he remembers me.
When I say an insanely short amount of time I mean it. Now I’m twenty-three,and he is twenty-eight. He got knighted when he was eighteen and became a commander at twenty, a general at twenty-five, and Royal General a year later. A hand clapped me on the shoulder causing me to jump.
“Your shift is over, go rest,” said a kind voice. I turned to see Freyor, a senior guard with a small smile on his face. I nodded and descended the steps passing by people working on shoring our defenses. Women grinding wheat into flour, people churning butter and making cheese. Men covering homes in mud and dirt, things that provide a degree of fireproofing. The city mage was casting long lasting spells to strengthen the walls and give boosts of strength and endurance to those digging the trenches and fireproofing the homes.
The alchemist was busy making potions of strength, endurance, and speed. All necessary for what was to come. The apprentice mage was casting fire-protection charms of homes and shops and hardening the wooden spikes at the bottom of ditches through some magical means. The greysmith was enchanting as many weapons and armour as she could, but it was exhausting work. She would likely only make a few dozen sets by the time the Silvestrians arrived. The kitchen was working in overdrive trying to dry and salt as much meat as they could, pickling as many onions, radishes, beets, carrots, and even the turnips as humanly possible. The carpenters and skilled labourers of the city were busy making anti siege weaponry; ballistae, trebuchets, and cannons. Not to mention reinforcing the walls. I say anti-siege weaponry, but it’s more like siege machines being used against the besieging army. I made my way to my home where I lived with my wife, the apprentice mage. I took off my armour and hung it on its rack, unbuckling my sword and hanging it above our bed. The unadorned spear went in the closet.
Sylvie had left out some of her books and I read them as I always do. They described how to cast spells, but since I wasn’t chosen to apprentice the old mage I technically was not allowed to study their contents. I was sure Sylvie knew I studied her textbooks as she always left them out in the open. I grinned as I read the textbook. I had already learned to cast simple spells that someone with high magical aptitude, like Sylvie, can cast from childhood. Spells that summon a small orb of light, or a magic iridescent hand which can grab and carry things, and even spells that can fix small tears and holes in objects or even clean things and make them spotless. The last one was a life saver, as Sylvie had been coming home of late, the chores fell to me. Cleaning the house was a breeze, as was mending clothes. Though the magic hand had made me a bit lazy as I could pour myself a glass of wine and have it float over to me.
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This textbook I was holding was one I hadn’t read through before. It was all about spells dealing with fire, producing fire, bottling fire, controlling fire. None of them were combat spells per se, but I could think of so many applications. One spell allowed you to make five orbs of burning fire that you could rotate around yourself, for light. I figured if they can rotate around you, why couldn’t they be thrown at someone? Another one was essentially creating a cooking fire. As I read it, it was as if a spark had ignited a flame inside my head. The spells suddenly seemed so simple. In fact, the one with the orbs was similar to the light spell I knew. I took a deep breath and casted the light spell, but I focused on making the source of it raw, and visceral. Hot and hungry. I lifted my hand to my face, pointing my palm away from me, and making my fingers form two horns. The other hand I put it up in front of it and lifted my index finger. I tensed the muscles in my arm and hand and felt my meager magic course through me. And in front of me, above my finger, a small speck of light formed then grew to the size of a fist, casting a glow over the shaded interior of my home. I have to admit, the pose looks a bit silly, but the best way to harness magic is to focus on something and force all other things out of your mind.
The orb of light I had summoned grew warm, the light growing brighter as I released my breath forcefully but slowly. I grunted as I felt energy leave my body and I became increasingly aware of the blood rushing through my body. The orb became rough around the edges then settled down into an orb of flame. I kept breathing out in the same manner waiting for it to stabilize. It took a while, I stood there for at least five minutes maintaining the alien breathing pattern. When it finally stabilized I moved the orb with my finger, making it dart this way and that way. It was smaller than the orb of light, probably the size of a child's hand. Well, that made sense at least. In making the light into fire I’d had to compress it down. I set up a bucket full of water nearby; it wouldn’t do to start a fire with everyone on edge already, and put another one on top of the table. I concentrated on the orb of flame, breathed out in the same slow but forceful manner, and flicked my finger towards the bucket.
Faster than an arrow, the orb of flame streaked towards the empty steel bucket, slamming into it and immediately melting the poor thing where it struck. I quickly doused the molten metal with the water from the other bucket, stopping the table from catching fire. I sighed and flicked my wrist and watched the ashes and water get magically whisked away and dumped outside. I approached the bucket and tried to grab the molten pieces and almost burned myself. Dumbass, I chided myself. It’s red hot. Why would you try and grab it?
I would have to mend it when the metal cooled enough for it to be handled. Then I grinned like an idiot. The light spell I could conjure with a bit of effort, but turning it to fire had taken a lot out of me. But even so, I felt strangely energized. I practiced for the rest of the day, my aim was good but as I conjured it again and again it became easier to conjure and aim. By the end of the day I could conjure it directly, without having to convert the light spell into it. That was much easier, and it required less energy. Which was good, because magically speaking, I was running on empty. But as I heard footsteps approaching the door, I quickly cast the cleaning spell, a sharp pain erupting in my head from mana over usage, and put the book back exactly where it was before then jumped into bed. I quickly grabbed one of the random storybooks we had lying around and opened it to a page towards the end, as if I’d been reading it all day and was almost done.
The door creaked open and Sylvie walked in. Her head hung low, her blue robes streaked with dirt and other… less savoury things, as was made apparent by the stench that followed her in. She took off the robe with a sigh and tossed it to the ground and flicked her wrist causing the mess to just, disappear. Thankfully the smell was also banished to the shadowrealm. Under it she was wearing a dark red tunic and dark red drawstring trousers.
“Good evening love,” I said from the bed scooching aside to make space for her.
“Good evening, Liam,” she said, enunciating her n’s running a hand through her waist length ginger locks. She lifted her light olive hand to her chin and jerked it to the side. There were multiple cracking noises as she sighed and jerked it to the other side. She arched her back causing more popping sounds to come from her. She planted her hands on her waits and twisted to the left then right letting out a groan as she popped her lower back. She did a few quick squats causing her ankles and knees to pop then grasped each of her wrists and squeezed them. Then she put her hands in a net and pushed them out, cracking them and cracking her elbows.
“I think you’ve cracked everything you can,” I said with a wince before grinning. She lifted a finger to silence me and rolled her shoulders back cracking them as well.
“Now, I have cracked everything I can,” she said, rolling her r’s. She smiled at me, exposing incredibly white teeth. “I brought dinner,” she said, lifting a basket covered by a cloth.
“Well that was a good idea, I forgot to cook today,” I said grinning. I had been busy with other things. Sylvie looked at the kitchen.
“I can see. Is this book really that good?” she said sitting next to me. I nodded and glanced towards the book I had grabbed. I realized with a start I had grabbed a children's book.
“Hmm, engrossing,” she said, laying her head on my chest and flipping the pages.
“Were you reading my textbooks?” she asked, looking up at me. I sighed, looks like I had some explaining to do.