Chapter 86: Loose Ends

Viv stood in the command tent, idly watching the map in front of her. It was of no use, of course, she could redraw it in her sleep. The strange circumstances had led to a very long, very narrow operation area where the center was as thin as a few men, and on the edges, there be dragons.

Possibly literally.

The pristine work made by Farren was now criss-crossed with lines and notations. Pins decorated it in patterns that everyone else would have considered incomprehensible, but to her, it was so clear she could see it all. The advance bases with their supplies and infirmaries, the secondary roads drawn by Yries machines and would already be regrown by now, all of those danced in her mind in that great ballet of people and tools of war. Every aspect had been perfectly orchestrated to lead them to that one fateful moment where the Enorians would be exhausted, split, with their pants down and Viv would bring the fucking hammer. And she had done it. Her army had descended on Lancer’s forces and smashed them to bits in just one blow. Twenty minutes of pure hell. For them.

It was amazing how both small and big it had all been. The numbers she had deployed were chump change in modern warfare. Individual countries had suffered more fatalities in a day during world war two than she had of troops, period. She was not even a trained officer. This was just winging it, using what she knew of logistics and asymmetrical warfare to turn the attackers into a gibbering wreck of an army. An amateur leading a bunch of retrained farmers, refugees, and healed cripples. It was a footnote of history but for them, and for her, it had been everything.

And they had won.

By her side, Marruk readjusted her grip on her huge flanged mace, a horror that was mercifully free of brain matter. She had kept the broken arrow shafts on her shield, remnants from the end when the colorless mana shield had finally broken. The Kark used to be thin and guarded. Hounded. Now, a stout and intimidating warrior loomed in plate armor that no earth human could move in, looking forward with grim aloofness. Lorn watched her cautiously with his helmet under his arm, while Ban waited by the entrance with his gauntleted fist held behind his back. Solfis was deployed behind her. No one spoke, yet her newly healed soul perceived through leadership that they were proud and not a little vindicated.

A Hadal opened the flap and stared at her. She nodded.

Irao dragged in his surprise prisoner, and the two women glared at each other for a while. Eteia showed wounded dignity, while Viv merely showed indifference. She placed two hands on the table and refrained from intimidating the woman. There was no need. Irao had her.

“Now what am I going to do with you?” She asked, not expecting an answer.

“If you are going to kill me like the prince, please do so without delay.”

Eteia was a severe-looking woman with the same slightly greenish skin and dark hair as everyone here. Viv would not call her pretty even by the slightly different local standard, but now that she stood there disheveled and defiant, Viv found that she did not harbor any grudge towards the woman. Enough blood had been shed already.

“We will not conduct public execution. You are soldiers and there are members of Neriad’s clergy on both sides.”

“Is that so?” The other woman replied. “And I was taking you for a vengeful person. No pyre to throw me on as revenge for killing the Hadal woman?”

“First, it would be counterproductive to try and burn a red mana specialist. Second, that was up to Irao and he decided to spare you.”

Viv cast a curious glance at the bald leader, his yellow slanted eyes checking corners. There were more people here than he was used to.

“Yes. I spared her.”

The Hadal searched for words and everyone else waited. It wasn’t the first time it happened. Waiting for Irao was the new normal in Kazar and Viv liked it that way. Eventually, Irao focused on her again.

“I don’t know. I feel like killing is definitive but capturing means I can kill later.”

“Well here it’s no longer the case. We will not execute soldiers who surrender.”

Irao nodded to show he understood. The gesture felt a bit forced. He was still making progress.

“Would you like to leave her with us? See to your people?”

Irao just disappeared, which meant an agreement in Viv’s experience. Eteia relaxed her shoulders.

“No manacles, no assassin? You must be very confident.”

“Well you haven’t started screaming about how I would get my just comeuppance once the glory of Enoria… and so on.”

“Indeed,” the mage replied, smiling a bit bitterly. Her lack of reaction left Viv curious. It appeared that not everyone had been under the charm of the prince, which was especially surprising coming from the mage since Viv was pretty sure the two had bonked.

“Also, Solfis will cut you in twelve before you start materializing a single glyph.”

//I will collect your head.

“Yes, I understand. No need for threats now.”

“But you surprise me,” Viv continued, “I expected a more extreme reaction.”

Eteia shrugged.

“I am not naive. Lancer used me as a tool and I did the same to him. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be the only female fourth step war mage in Eteia? I was a living reminder that Enorian women as gentle nurturers was nothing but a convenient lie, while male mages detested being my inferiors. Only Lancer hired me after I returned from Helock. I was even considering offering my services to the Kingdom of Baran.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Enoria is still my home. You are an Outlander, so I cannot begrudge you the independence you claimed. In return, please consider that I would rather improve my country than abandon it, even if it has treated me… poorly. I tried to help. Lancer would not have been such a bad ruler.”

“Not for us.”

“I will not dispute that point. Now, not that I do not enjoy talking with a fellow practitioner, but I have to ask. What do you plan to do with me?”

“We will probably have to release you,” Viv admitted candidly. It earned her an expression of pure shock.

“Is this the truth?”

“I have no need to lie to you. I was told that it is possible to keep a mage contained within a spell.”

“Yes, steel and silverite cages are the most common tools. Manacles exist, but they would not work well on someone with our level of mastery over magic.”

“We do not have such tools and I was told that there was a way to… neutralize you for the next decade.”

“A oath of Neriad?”

“Correct. In the meanwhile, I have a question. What is the best way to get into the Helock academy?”

Eteia gasped. Viv knew that the woman had graduated from there. Eteia’s achievements were common knowledge among the more up-to-date refugees.

“I… well of course, but why?”

Viv closed her eyes and remembered the prayer.

It had been… a weird moment.

She had always considered herself an atheist, and the gods here were not exactly the creator god her monotheistic tradition sought, but, shit, they were gods. Like Greek or Roman anthropomorphic ones. Angry. Horny. Petty. And more importantly, powerful enough to hear and answer prayer. She had considered asking Neriad, but he was the god of fucking people up when they deserve it, not the answer guy, and so she had turned her attention to Maradoc. The God of Secrets was technically her patron and she still held his blessing, and so she had asked and… he had answered.

Her mind had been at rest, she had felt her mana create a connection of sorts. It had been impossible to return to the in-between, at least for now. Instead, a vision had come to her, one of a city so massive it covered the entire flank of a mountain. The sea. And a whisper.

Helock.

The answer to her survival was in Helock, where the greatest archmages of the continent gathered to teach the next generation of promising casters.

Or so she assumed, because there wasn’t a single soul in the damn Harrakan lands (still felt weird to call them that) who had any idea how all of this worked. Even Varska’s book had nothing but a grandiose introduction of the Academy. Nothing concrete. It really made her miss the internet.

Fortunately, now she had some moderately dated information.

“I need to get in there, I think.”

“You think?”

Marruk shifted ever so slightly but Eteia’s wary eyes followed the movements of the mace with sudden and strong interest.

“We are having a polite conversation which suits me well, but in clase it wasn’t clear, I’m asking the questions,” Viv calmly stated.

“Yes. Of course,” Eteia replied. She waved her hand dismissively.

“I do not mean to hide information, your statement just surprised me. Instinctive casters such as yourself usually shun places of learning. They typically find classical education too restrictive, too focused on rules that mostly exist in the mind of practitioners. But that’s your business I suppose.”

There was a hint of curiosity in the stern woman’s eyes. She really wasn’t what Viv had expected.

“Admission to the academy itself depends on the applicant’s profile. Mine was funded by a rich, widowed aunt. Others have their tuition paid by the crown. You would probably get admitted pretty cheaply given your unique and interesting profile. You would, however, need to show up there in person unless you can get a sponsor. By the way, you will not easily find one in Enoria.”

“I gathered that much.”

“Crossing Enoria right now is a fool’s errand. Are you in a hurry?”

“Yes.”

Solfis had mentioned that she had only one more year before her body started breaking down. It was more than urgent, though she was reasonably certain that there were ways to extend that deadline, if what she had read about alchemy was any indication. Nevertheless, time wasn’t on her side.

“Then you should leave soon and make your way north through Enoria. Crossing the border might be a problem since the entire place is in chaos, but if you manage that, you can catch a river ship along the Shar river and reach the city quickly and safely. Then, it is only a matter of talking to an administrator. It would help if you can demonstrate new and original spells although it’s not a requirement. You are a bit old for a regular freshman but they accept free candidates with various profiles. Your black mana mastery will help. Can you do any other color?”

Viv considered her answer carefully. In the end, if Eteia accepted the Oath of Neriad, she would be forbidden from sharing information on Viv. If she didn’t, Solfis would add a new trophy to his expanding and slightly disturbing collection in the tower’s basement. Viv shuddered.

“No. Only black and transparent.”

“Wait… That means… Oh.”

Eteia licked her parched lips, considering.

“How long do you have?”

Ban frowned. So far, he had remained silent, but the latest question raised some serious flags.

“Your Grace?”

Viv sighed. The cat was out of the bag.

“Over a year, according to what I know.”

“Hmm, you feel fine. You must have solid conduits and I am told that it helps. Children with skewed distribution are taught to practice those first. And yes, people in Helock can help you, especially the hospital. Many afflictions stem from mana overload. You just have to get there. I suggest leaving as soon as possible.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I know.”

The flap opened again and a heavy entered, saluting crisply. The sound of his fist on the armored chestguard clanked strangely in the confines of the tent.

“The troops are ready for review, Your Grace.”

“Then if you will excuse me,” Viv said. She stood and the rest joined her, including Solfis. The heavy would stay inside to keep an eye on the ‘prisoner’.

Viv came out with her head high and her helmet under an arm to the people-packed clearing. The place was deathly silent. A double row of heavies on both sides stood as rigidly as statues, then came witch-pact marksmen and temple guards in an ever widening circle that only stopped at the other end of the battlefield. The Enorian prisoners sat in a huddle to the right while the infirmary was now silent on her left, the wounded stabilized. The militia occupied most of the ground in groups that were based more around communities than squads and that was fine.

They looked so damn proud, and they had every right to be.

Viv strutted forward with as much authority as leadership would grant her. The others followed right behind, soon joined by the Yries warlord and stoneweaver. The surviving head noble and Farren were there as well. As Viv made her way through the corridor of armed folks, someone slammed the butt on their spear on the ground. It took less than two seconds for the entire Harrakan military to join. Boom, boom. With every step she took, the ones she had led into battle sent tremor through the earth. It felt… amazing.