The First Mage

Bren looked at me expectantly. He was wary of this development and hoped that I would do something about it. I didn’t know how much he really understood about scripts and mana, but even if it was just instinct, he was right to be worried.

On the other hand, Oryn had apparently thought that the situation was under control, now that he was in safety. “Tomar? Orthur... can’t do anything without the script, right?” he asked.

“He does need a script...” I said with trepidation. “The problem is that Shadi is still in town.”

Oryn’s eyes widened. “The healer? Didn’t you say she can’t use scripts?”

“She can’t use them on herself, but she implied that she understands Omega to a degree. I haven’t had time to really talk to her about it yet. But even if she can’t recreate this script, it would be bad if the High Priest were to come after her...”

If he was this desperate, he would do anything to try to get the script out of Shadi. And if she couldn’t or wouldn’t give it to him, he would keep going. Orthur would either get mana users or potentially kill her in the process. Neither of these possibilities was ideal.

I had included Shadi in my considerations when leaving Alarna, but I figured she’d be fine. As a healer, she didn’t have any real offensive abilities, and she seemed to be doing well at the clinic. She would’ve been a person of interest at best. It should’ve been fine, had I thought more carefully about what the High Priest might do.

“I was right then,” Bren said. “This isn’t over just because we got Oryn out. What do we do?”

Anger welled up inside me. At myself for making a mistake, at problems out of Alarna still following me, but mostly at that fucking maniac that was High Priest Orthur Syfar. I had yet to hear a single good word about this man—or out of his mouth for that matter. It was simple enough to see good in the king, but Orthur’s entire life seemed to revolve around accruing more power by any means necessary. This was the big problem though. It was his being, and all evidence indicated that he wouldn’t change.

Everybody was waiting for me to say something, but there was no simple solution. The first thing that came to mind was to get Shadi out of town. This assumed that we would be able to get to her though, that she’d believe us, and that she would be willing to come to the Wildlands. It also wouldn’t necessarily stop Orthur.

We could try to take the mana user he had off the board, getting rid of his reusable resource for running the script. This, too, was unreliable on its own though. There still were water sources, and if he gathered a couple dozen people around one, he could very well end up with another mana user without spending too many non-human resources.

Just escorting key people out of town also couldn’t possibly be a silver bullet, because Orthur was mad enough to send people after us again, in an attempt to retrieve them or kidnap one of us.

Ideally, this was really something the king would deal with. But I was sure that Bren and the others had considered this. It was doubtful that Orthur left behind damning evidence, and Hertar had never tried to stop him in the past either. The reason was clear if you just looked at how the citizens licked up our stories about divine messengers. Not all of them were deeply religious, but everybody did recognize the power of the gods, and the priest was a mostly trusted leader in that area. If you attacked him without good reason, people were bound to question that decision. The king wouldn’t risk it during such uncertain times.

What then? What was I supposed to do? In truth... The very first thing that came to my mind was neither Shadi, nor the priest, nor King Hertar. There was a simple solution. An egregiously simple one. But was it a good one?

“Let’s go, Bren,” Grym said after a few moments had passed. “You heard him. This is Alarna’s problem.”

“It’s not,” Bren said. “If Orthur gets this power, he’s not going to stop at Alarna. Tomar won’t ignore him. Nor the people still hoping for his leadership.”

Yea, no... That was pretty much the provisional plan until you guys came here, Bren...

Although he was technically right, Tomar certainly wouldn’t have ignored any of this.

I averted my eyes, trying to concentrate, but everybody standing around like this was starting to get awkward, and it was hard to ignore them if all eyes were on you.

Eventually, I said, “Give me a few minutes.”

Distancing myself from the others, I walked into the woods without another word, in search of the quietness I needed. I had a decision to make that would affect all of our futures.

***

Berla watched after Miles until he was out of sight. At first, everybody waited more or less silently, but it soon became clear that he would be gone for a moment, and she watched the two groups get comfortable.

Hayla and Aelene were seemingly starting to get along better, as they sat next to each other, whispering. For some reason Hayla pointed at Riala and Taul, with Aelene nodding in understanding. Berla didn’t know what this was about, but she was happy there weren’t going to be any problems with them, no matter how strange it was to see a Ruler and a Worshipper getting chummy.

Reurig meanwhile began unpacking the bag he filled up in Alarna. Between changes of clothes for everybody, writing materials, blue stones, and more, it was remarkable he had managed to also bring a few books, cups, and even blankets. He had to have scoured multiple places to get all of it, and carrying the large bag here unnoticed couldn’t have been simple either. It was no wonder that it took him a while. Excited by his haul, Hayla and Aelene stopped their conversation. One immediately grabbed a set of clothes, considering where to best go and change, having worn the same ones for three days straight through tumult and adventure. The other started sifting through the books, hungry for something to do.

As always, Hati laid around lazily, watching it all. With this he blended in well with their visitors though. They sat down, waited, and watched, not doing much initially but taking sips from flasks out of their backpacks. They seemed to have prepared to stay out there for multiple days if necessary. Though a bit of smalltalk eventually ensued between the two groups.

The only restless one was Grym, who appeared ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Feeling her gaze on him, he briefly looked in Berla’s direction and greeted her with a nod from afar, but that was the extent of the pleasantries he indulged in. He wasn’t happy, but the fact that he was still here spoke volumes. Maybe he wouldn’t admit to it if asked, but he was hoping for Miles to tell them what to do about the situation in Alarna as well, just like his son. They craved orders, as Fighters tended to do. A blade was nothing without a wielder.

Berla eventually joined the others and inquired about what exactly was happening in town, learning the details of Eissen’s actions, the Fighters’ hardships, and the lack of certainty among the populace. There were naturally those vocally supporting the return of the king, but this second leadership change within a month appeared to have also confused many—they weren’t sure what or who to believe anymore. She could feel with them, having the knowledge that every single one of their leaders had lied to them at some point, even if it was for the benefit of the people. Unfortunately there was little to be done about this now.

They kept up the conversation and talked about various topics, but when Miles still hadn’t returned after some time, Berla was starting to get a little worried. She wanted to give him his space, but it took him much longer than expected, and it was unusual for him to retreat to think in the first place. Reaching a point where she couldn’t wait any longer, she excused herself to go look for him.

Following Miles’ traces through the woods, it didn’t take very long to find him. Coming up from behind, she stopped next to the tree he was leaning against.

“It’s not like you to hide,” she said, smiling at him with sympathy.

“Bren’s emotional blackmail was just too strong. I was forced to take drastic measures,” Miles said jokingly.

“Emotional blackmail?” she asked.

“When you try to get someone to do something by targeting or appealing to their feelings.”

She hadn’t heard the term before, but the description didn’t fit Bren’s motivation.

“Come on... You know it’s not like that,” she admonished. “He believes in you.”

Miles chuckled lightly. “Sometimes I’m not sure who they believe in. Is it me? Lilly? Tomar? I don’t even know who made which decisions anymore, with us three having been in each others’ ears all the time.”

“Well... Only you are left now. It’s your decision what you do from here on out.”

“Yea... And what they do apparently,” Miles sighed. “Is Grym still there?”

“Sure is. Waiting impatiently and grumpily.”

“Ugh...” he grunted, annoyed by the direction this was taking.

The Fighters had not come here to tell him about Alarna’s problems, or for him to solve the immediate ones and then leave again. They wanted him to lead them. The moment he went back to that clearing and gave them instructions, he would make a commitment on multiple levels. Both of them understood this.

“For someone who is this annoyed by leading people, you’ve been doing it an awful lot, you know?” Berla teased. “And you might want to stop gathering more around you.”

“Yea... That’s not going well,” he lamented.

Miles leaned his head against the tree and glanced up at the treetops as another sigh escaped his lips. He never truly wanted to become a leader, but it seemed more and more inevitable that he was going to be pushed into that role.

“One thing Hayla is right about is that people are going to rally around you guys if you continue like this. You’re the promise of a better future. But maybe it will be easier if you don’t start with an entire town.”

“Guess so...”

When Miles got like this, he had already made up his mind, but wasn’t quite ready to take the last step yet. Berla was prepared to wait though.

“Without saying that you are going to do something...” she said, “what do you want to do about the High Priest?”

“That’s the other thing,” he said unhappily. “I can’t think of many permanent solutions. We could always take back Alarna and throw him in a cell again, but not only do I think it’s the wrong move, it would be harder than last time and would most likely cost innocent lives. I promised Brie that I wouldn’t risk the lives of Fighters unnecessarily. No, I believe that the fast, simple, and safe solution would be for the best.”

“I see... That’s very unfortunate...” Berla leaned against the tree as well, shoulder to shoulder with Miles. “But if that’s what it takes...” she said, glancing at him from the side.

“I don’t know if it is. But I can’t think of anything else.” Miles looked back at her with a grimace.

“Nobody knows. But the way I know you, there’s not a single potential option you didn’t consider. What they need to hear is that it’s okay. And they need to know that you’re going to be there afterwards.”

“Okay... Could you go tell them?” he suggested, faking a smirk.

“They need to hear it from you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Yea, yea...”

They stood like this in silence for a short while, but Berla was soon looking at him in anticipation. Any moment now... she thought, and was proven right when Miles pushed himself off the tree seconds later, to turn in the direction of the camp.

“Well, I suppose at least Hayla will be happy about this development,” Miles said as he took his first step.

“Right... I changed my mind, let’s not do that,” Berla said, holding him back by the arm playfully.

Miles briefly stopped and smiled at her, until he said, “Let’s go,” solidifying his decision.

The two made their way back, and the closer they got to the others, the louder their voices grew. Despite the situation in Alarna, they sounded unconcerned—almost cheerful.

One reason for this was undoubtedly their environment. Berla knew from personal experience that, without beasts, it was like a different world out here, where all your problems appeared far away. You got the opportunity to take a deep breath and forget about it all. If only for a time. The other reason was the trust they all had in Miles. Whether you knew him as himself, Tomar, or Lilly, there was a certain air around him. A feeling that everything would work out.

More than that though, Berla knew him to be special, even though he would be the last to call himself that. There hadn’t been very many days since she met Miles where everything went exactly the way he wanted, and he had been vocal about his displeasure on more than one occasion. Despite this, he never stopped. He kept doing the best he could for everyone around him, no matter how bad things got or how much he wanted to bail, which he very much could have. This was the first characteristic that drew her to him, and it had never been more pronounced than now.

When Berla and Miles stepped into the clearing and the others noticed them, they relapsed into silence. Bren and Taul jumped up and stood at attention, their smiles replaced by serious expressions. Conversely, Reurig had to smile, seeing these two. He got up as well, and even Grym, who stood to the side, straightened himself. Watching Miles come to a stop in front of them, they awaited his decision.

He briefly looked between them and then addressed his former personal guard. “Bren, have you explained the situation about me and Lilly and what happened that night to the others?”

The young guard lowered his head. Awkwardly, he responded, “I... I have. I’m sorry, Tomar. With all the rumors going around—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. It saves me some time,” Miles interrupted, filling Bren with relief. Miles then raised his voice. “First: Effective immediately, I’m going by my own name. No more Tomar, no more Lilana, or Lilly. I’m Miles. Second: The town of Alarna is no longer my main concern, and I’m not planning to meddle with its administration.” During a brief pause, the Fighters thought this might be the end after all, but then Miles continued. “That being said, I can’t ignore the injustice in town, and the High Priest in particular is a threat that needs to be dealt with immediately. As the king is ill-equipped to do so, I will take it upon myself to solve this problem. Given this task’s difficulty though, I will welcome all the help I can get.”

He gave them a potential out, but their mannerism indicated unmistakingly that they were at his command.

Bren whispered, “Miles...”, committing the name to memory. “What are we going to do?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

Miles didn’t respond right away, and standing next to him, Berla could see a hint of nervousness on his face. Though she was the only one to notice, and a deep breath later, it was all but gone.

“The gods are finally going to judge High Priest Orthur for his crimes,” Miles declared. “I’m done playing around.”