It was morning, the ninth day of this new chapter in Toric’s life. In just nine days his entire reality had changed. He was a Veil-Walker, an Ignis Elemental Mage, Sword of Daath, Princeps of the Legion, he knew who his parents were, and he had access to literally hundreds of generations of his ancestor’s memories. He lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling, admiring the complex wood and stone work. Ever so slowly he worked back over the details of the various political plots that he seemed to be unwillingly involved in. First an unknown magic user used the Emperor’s personal guards to attack him in full view of the court, next a disgruntled Legate and tribune conspired to bar him from his birthright and execute his step-father Marrick, and lastly the Legion Temple tries to become involved in a matter they are specifically barred from by the Spirit they claim to serve. The situation with the Legate and Tribune was mostly resolved, but the other two were in various states of progress. He would go to the Temple today and speak to the High Priest, but the situation in the Empire was going to have to wait for a time; he didn’t even have any purview over that situation as it happened within the Empire’s jurisdiction. Toric shook his head and focused on what he could deal with today; first he would go to the Temple and then he would head for the Fist’s barracks. Training in the School was all well and good, but he needed to put some time into his combat abilities on this side as well. With a nod he swung from the bed and climbed to his feet, heading to the bathing area. A quick check of his chest showed the brand new scar; where Balth had formed a spell similar to the one on his claws around Tognor’s axe and Fury’s rapier to test the strength of his scales. The axe had enough force behind it to punch through whatever had stopped the rapier and the massive scar showed the terrible damage that had resulted. With that molecular edge the axe had still needed a hell of a lot of force to cut the scales, but once the scales parted all of that force had punched the head of the axe all the way through his chest and lodged in his backbone. It had really hurt, badly; but he understood the concept of knowing his own limitations and had taken to heart – quite literally – the lesson not to let weapons hit him, just in case.
Within a short time, most of it taken up by a long hot shower, he exited his bedroom wearing his armor and weapons, with his helmet dangling from his belt. This time there were others awake and eating. Quietly he joined Marrick, Xander, and Michael at the breakfast table. It did not take him long to devour enough food for six others, thus beating his old record by at least two full courses. His new height and weight added a great deal of mass; mass that required fuel to operate. Toric just kept on eating; he knew that expression on Marrick’s face and knew that eventually he would get to whatever was on his mind. It was an old game, and the familiarity of it made him happy. Marrick would stare at him and try to get him to break and ask what was going on, and Toric would just sit there as long as he could stand it and wait for Marrick to talk first. As it turned out, Toric’s increased appetite won the game, because he was usually the loser, but the fact that his mouth was full kept him from breaking his silence. Finally Marrick coughed and looked up to lock eyes with Toric.
“I asked Xander and Michael here for a couple of reasons. I want them to be your shadows today. Until we recruit new bodyguards; I want two Fists with you at all times, even here on the Island. Nothing could have changed what happened yesterday in that shrine, but if the Fists had been there they could have stayed on guard and I could have gone with you. I haven’t even brought up the problems with the Temple and that Legate. Do you have a problem with that?”
Toric swallowed his food and looked up at Marrick, then turned and looked at Xander and Michael.
“I have conditions, conditions that mean no disrespect to any of the Fists, but which I find necessary considering what is coming. Don’t worry, eventually I will clue all of you into what the future holds for me and anyone with me, but for now I need you to just take on faith that it is going to be … perilous. You two come with me to the Temple this morning, which is my first stop. After I speak with the High Priest we will go to where the rest of the Fists are and I can lay out the conditions. Sound good to you two?”
Michael just saluted to Xander, silently indicating his acknowledgement and recognition that it was ultimately Xander’s call.
Xander smiled and inclined his head to Toric.
“Sounds good to us, Princeps.”
Toric smiled at the use of the older title and turned back to his food.
Once everyone was full they stood and left the suite headed for the exit to the Fortress. The Fortress was massive and old. The entire structure had been laid out according to directions from Daath and had taken one hundred and fifty years to construct. It was built into a massive stone monadnock and the stone quarried from the mountain had been used to construct the fortifications. It was hailed as the strongest fortification on the continent and the Legion population had never outgrown its space.
It took twenty minutes to reach the front antechamber of the Fortress, and a further fifteen minutes to exit the main building, cross the drill yard, and exit through the five interlocking gates to enter the city. As soon as the foursome exited into the city there was an immediate uproar. Toric was taken aback at the sheer mass of people standing before him and cheering.
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Xander and Michael acted immediately, pushing out in front of Toric and Marrick and screening them as they walked. It was vaguely amusing to watch the two normal height men as they pushed the crowd back so the veritable giant could walk unmolested behind them. As if anyone would actually try and pick a fight with a fully armored and armed man standing over seven feet tall with blue-black flames for eyes.
As Toric walked his eyes roved around and observed the crowd. Elves, men, women, mages, and soldiers, but all of them wore armor. They were cheering for him, but not with the usual frenzy a civilian crowd would have shown. Each person out there was careful not to jostle their neighbors, and showed the tight control of veteran soldiers. This was the strength of the Legion. They had no civilians that could be targeted by their enemies. No weak spots to exploit. If anyone wanted to attack the Legion they would have to mount a physical invasion. There were several things that, while they did not startle him, made him uncomfortable. The main thing that widened his eyes was the amount of scantily clad women. Intellectually he knew there were a few people that made the cut to join the Legion as Blood, but did not want to be warriors. These became the engineers, bakers, servants, cooks, and myriad other positions that kept the Legion self-sufficient. They were required to participate in the militia after they went through recruit training, and a small percentage of the women became, ladies of the evening. His mind, while greatly expanded and having the memories of how sex was performed, was not yet caught up with all the feelings associated with such an act. The memories were pure information, with no emotional attachment. A nudge from Marrick made him realize he had been looking in the direction of said women for a moment too long and he jerked back forward. A thought crossed his mind and he smiled at it. A good way to make a statement and keep anything untoward from happening through the rest of their trek had just occurred to him.
“Xander, Michael, fall back closer to me.”
Toric looked around and waited for the two Fists to fall back, and then he cast the shield spell he learned last night. Reaching through to the half of his soul in the Veil he summoned its power through his connection. Shaping it into Veil-Fire, an aspect of his element, he shaped the shield around the four of them, making it into a half bubble as he doubted anyone would be burrowing under the ground to get at them.
It worked perfectly and the crowd fell back away from them, far away. Three remained close still, all of them dressed as magi and studying the shield with expressions of confusion. They all bore blazes on their shoulders indicating they were still Apprentice level magi and had likely not yet even read of Veil-Fire. It was a very obscure branch of magic after all.
A much older mage pushed through the crowd behind them and once she had spotted Marrick behind the shield a look of first surprise and then recognition crossed her face when she looked at Toric. She winked and then stood behind the three magi and waited to see what they would do. After several moments of the magi following Toric’s shielded group through the city one of the magi reached out with a flicker of power to try and feel the shield. Toric ignored it and continued on, as did the older mage. As soon as the thin filament of power touched the Veil-Fire it burned away into nothingness. The Mage frowned and then reached forward physically. Toric started to react to pull the Veil-Fire away before the stupid Apprentice lost his hand, but the older Mage was closer and faster. She reached out and smacked the boy on the back of his head hard.
All three of the Apprentices whirled to face the Master class Mage and Toric paused to see what happened. It was actually rather anti-climactic from his viewpoint. The Master Mage first informed the boys what would happen to any physical object that came into contact with Veil-Fire and then assigned a research project to all three about the dangers of Veil-Magic. The Apprentices obviously thought it was a bad enough punishment and all three left with their heads hanging. By this time the crowd had completely dissipated, likely out of fear of catching the Master Mage’s attention, and Toric dropped the shield.
As soon as the shield disappeared, the woman ran forward and wrapped her arms around Marrick’s neck, kissing him soundly on the mouth. Toric, Xander, and Michael just kind of all stared at them slack-jawed for a while.
“You’re back! Oh Marrick, I have missed you dearly.”
The woman stated as soon as she came up for air.
Marrick was stuttering, which was kind of funny, but Toric was ashamed. He had never once considered the life Marrick had left behind to raise him. An idea occurred to him and he smiled happily.
“Marrick, seeing as how you have arranged for Xander and Michael to accompany me today, I see no reason why you shouldn’t take some time and catch up with old friends.”
Marrick spun around and glared at Toric, which only made Toric smile wider. There was no way Marrick could say no with her standing right there.
The woman came up to Toric and held out her right hand. Toric gripped it as his memories showed him and leaned down to kiss the top of her hand softly, before standing once more.
“Enchanted, Ma’am. I am Toric Fatesblood, and any friend of my step-father is a friend of mine. Please be so kind as to see to his entertainment for the day, and I would be honored to be your host for dinner. Perhaps you can tell me some of his past; he is remarkably close lipped on the subject. Far too embarrassed to admit that such a beautiful woman as you was only a friend of his, I expect.”
As she pulled her hand back to hold it against her chest, she blushed brightly at his words. And Marrick just glared harder.
“I would be delighted to entertain Marrick, as well as to come to dinner. I do have some very good stories and since I know who you are, I have a few of your father as well. My name is Valeria and I am honored to make your acquaintance my lord.”
Toric waved off the title.
“Please, my name is Toric and if you are agreeable, consider yourself a friend that can use it.”
Valeria blushed again and simply nodded. She turned to Marrick, who had wiped the scowl from his face, and stuck her arm through his, pulling him away toward the shopping district. A thought occurred to Toric and he took three long steps to catch them and pressed three of the Fire-Diamonds into Marrick’s hand. Then he was away with Xander and Michael.