Valor and Violence

The Calling - Part 2



Despite Ferez’s misgivings, the sail boat handled the journey to Aderath fairly well. The small size of the hull in relation to the sails meant it was exceptionally fast, and Leo quieted the larger swells that posed a risk to the vessel with relative ease. It had almost been enjoyable; cruising on the open seas, a quick stop in Marduk for supplies and a beer, and then the pleasant, temperate winds along the coastline as they neared the fiefdom of Lord Gascoigne, Leo’s smuggler contact’s employer.

The good fortune of the journey thus far did nothing to dispel Ferez’s current misgivings, however, as they passed a monolith of jagged granite sprouting from the grey waves. It was so close he could almost touch it as the boat brushed past, losing a few splinters in the process.

“Leo, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course, I’ve done this dozens of times before.”

They were travelling into what could only be described as a forest of stalagmites rising from the sea, the water churning to a frothing white frenzy as powerful currents clashed among the rocks. Though they were only a few hundred metres from shore, the forest was becoming denser the closer they drew, and Leo had already clipped a fair few pylons as he fought the raging currents and whirlpools.

“I take it you had an experienced sailor with you back then?”

“I did, yes. This trip has really made me miss Eric. I think I’m starting to regret drowning him.”

“You drowned him? That’s a horrible way to die, Leo! Why didn’t you just stab him with an ice spear or something?”

“I was emotional at the time!” he shouted over the din of the waves crashing against the rocks. “I felt betrayed! And you, out of ALL people, can’t judge me. You literally burn people alive!”

“Oh, come on. It takes a couple of seconds, maximum. Not like drowning, they can survive for close to a minute!”

“I’m told it’s actually quite peaceful, really, once you get over the initial shock.”

“Did Eric seem at peace?”

Leo paused for a moment. “No… no he looked pretty terrified, now that I think back to it.”

The conversation was interrupted when a wave grew under the boat, quicker than Leo could react, and smashed them against a pylon. Ferez heard the unmistakable sound of splintering wood as he was thrown to the floor, followed by icy water pooling around his face. He looked around and saw a chunk of the hull missing, water streaming in and tipping the vessel on its side.

“Leo! We’re going down!”

“I can see that! Hang on!”

Before Ferez could ask what, exactly, he was meant to be hanging on to, the boat took off, flying through the forest faster than a galloping horse. Any trace of finesse was gone, Leo propelling the ruined boat with his magic, the vessel ricocheting off every stone they passed. It was a race to get what was left of the boat to shallow water before it went under the waves or broke apart completely.

It was a race they were losing.

They were close now, so close Ferez could see glimpses of the beach through the forest, but he lost sight of it again as his vision rapidly filled with the dark black outline of a particularly huge pylon. They were heading right for it.

Ferez screamed as the boat struck at full pace, the remaining hull disintegrating against the impossibly hard rock. Ferez knew it was impossibly hard because when he smashed against it in turn, his armour warped and dented, painfully digging into the fleshy parts of his body, though the stone didn’t so much as chip.

He went under the surface, ragdolling around and bouncing off more pylons as the current sucked him towards the seabed. He looked around, desperately trying to find Leo, but all he could see was alternating patches of darkness and froth. He kicked his leg and windmilled his arms, but felt completely powerless in the churning water. No matter how hard he struggled, he just kept going down, deeper and deeper into the dark.

Why? he wondered as the burning in his lungs started and the urge to take a breath grew impossible to ignore. I’m an excellent swimmer!

The armour.

The damn armour was weighing him down! He was starting to hate this suit. He resolved to get rid of it as soon as he got out of this predicament. He just needed to get back to the surface, swim a little closer to shore, and get his feet under him.

Thunk.

He realised his prospects were worse than he thought as he hit the seafloor, the weight of the water passing over him pinning him to the ground. He couldn’t even lift his arms.

He gazed up at the tiny pin prick of light above him, dancing and refracting through the waves. It was so far away. He could never get back up there in time.

The urge to breathe was overpowering now. The burning in his lungs worse than any fire he could conjure, and he realised the black ringing his vision wasn’t just because of the dark water, he was passing out.

I hope Leo was right about drowning being peaceful, he thought as he closed his eyes.

Then he felt the water around him change. The turbulence built, his body buffeted by waves of water like hammer blows before an overpowering current plucked him from where he lay. He opened his eyes as he surged through the water, the tiny speck of light growing brighter and brighter until he burst from the surface into the cool air. He was still rising though, the force of his expulsion carrying him higher into the air, above the tops of even the tallest pylons around him. He looked around as he sucked in lungful after lungful of air.

And saw the beach!

He twisted as he reached the height of his ascent, gravity moments away from reasserting control over his fate. He angled his hands and feet behind him, looked toward the beach, and unleashed the most powerful jet of fire he could manage. He shot through the air, barrelling towards the white sand, the tips of the forest whooshing past just below him. And then he was past it, heading straight for the strip of sweet, sweet land.

At a speed that would definitely kill him when he hit.

“Oh dear,” he said, bringing his hands forward and blasting more flame, trying to slow his descent. It did little, and he screamed again as he crossed the last dozen metres and crunched into the sand.

What precious air he’d inhaled was knocked out by the impact as he slid up the beach, burrowing a trench through the soft white sand with his face. He stopped, and for a few moments, just lay there, too scared of what he might discover to attempt movement. Eventually, emboldened by the fact he was at least still conscious, he tried wiggling his toes. He breathed a sigh of relief, blowing a puff of sand into the air as he felt them obey his commands, sloshing around in his water filled boots. He tried his fingers next and found similar success, then pushed himself up off the ground, spitting grains. As he sat up, he heard laughter. He turned around to find Leo, sitting atop a plume of water on a stylised throne of ice, laughing and clapping.

“My, oh, my, Ferez. That was quite a display! I’ve heard some Pyrisians can fly, but I never expected to actually see it. Your landing needs a bit of work though.”

Ferez just glared, still too shocked to say anything suitably witty, as Leo casually rode his water construct onto the beach. He walked over and extended a hand, pulling Ferez to his feet with plenty of puffing and wheezing.

“By Aquina, you weigh a tonne! No wonder you sunk so fast. You’re lucky I found you all the way down there.”

“If we were lucky, we wouldn’t have dashed against the rocks in the first place! That was lunacy, Leo. We were never going to make it.”

“Hindsight is always clearer than foresight. I’ll admit it may have been a miscalculation on my part. Still, we’re alive, are we not?”

Ferez grudgingly nodded as he started struggling up the beach. His misshapen armour made movement more difficult on the soft sand, and he was relieved when they finally reached the grassy dunes behind the beach, and his feet stopped sinking into the ground with every step.

He surveyed the land before him as he caught his breath. It was… verdant. Coming from the desert continent south of the Rift, the riot of green threatened to overwhelm him. He had no idea there were so many shades, from the light greenish tan of the prickly salt stricken grass at his feet to the deep green of the forest canopy a few hundred metres before him.

“Welcome to Aderath, Ferez,” Leo said as he walked past him towards the tree line. “Where the wine is sweet, the nobles fat, decadent cunts with power over life and death, and the women are… well not much different to the Calandorians and Skjar if I’m being honest. Pale and bony, but with marginally better fashion sense. Still, any port in a storm.”

“Sounds lovely,” Ferez replied as he followed. “Where are you going?”

“There’s an old road just inside the forest, we use it to transport cargo from the main port for loading.”

Ferez grabbed Leo by the shoulder and spun him around so they were face to face.

“What did you just say?”

“There’s… a road?” Leo replied, confused.

“No, after that.”

“We transport things from the port?”

Ferez closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. Deep breath in, hold two, three, aaand deep breath out.

“Then why the fuck didn’t we berth there?” he yelled, eyes springing open and boring into Leo’s. The water mage wilted beneath his glare.

“My contact is quite, particular, about associates turning up unannounced. I was hoping we could avoid detection for a little while, get the lay of the land. Maybe get a message to her on the sly, so she has time to calm down before we actually have to speak face to face.”

Ferez pinched the bridge of his nose. “Leo, how many smuggling coves are there around here?”

“Just that one.”

“And does your contact know about it?”

“Well I should hope so. She’s the one who hired the Terran mage to build it.”

Ferez knew those damned pylons looked unnatural.

“So we landed at the one smuggling cove in the area. That your contact, who hates people smuggling without prior approval, had built in the first place.”

From the look on Leo’s face, realisation had just dawned on him as well.

“Alright, I think I see where you’re going with this, but I doubt she would have anyone watching us.”

A short Aderathian stepping out of the forest interrupted their bickering. His movements were unhurried as he strolled over, a messenger pigeon perched on his shoulder. As he got closer, Ferez realised his jerkin was covered in bird shit, though if he cared he gave no sign.

“Message for monsieurs,” he said, handing a rolled up scrap of paper to Leo with one hand while he fed seed to the pigeon with his other. As soon as the message was handed off, he tipped his cap, turned and wandered back into the forest.

Leo swore as he read the note, the colour draining from his face. “It seems you may have been right,” he said as he handed the paper over. Ferez looked down, taking in the elegant, flowing handwriting that read ‘Don’t you fucking move, Leo. It’ll be worse for you if I have to hunt you down’.

The sophistication of the script seemed entirely at odds with the tone of the message.

“So,” Ferez said, “do we run, or stay?”

“Unless you like the sound of being dragged down by hunting dogs, I suggest we stay,” Leo said, before pinching his mouth in a pained expression. “Hopefully she’s in a good mood.”

“Is that likely?”

“Truth be told, no. She’s violent, self-centred, and she loves duelling. But if we don’t run, she probably won’t kill us, at least?”

Ferez stared at Leo as the water mage flopped onto the ground and closed his eyes. Seemed he was going to pass the time napping. Probably smart to recharge their stores of Talent if she was as formidable as Leo said.

With a soft groan, Ferez lowered himself and started stripping off his armour. He started with his gauntlets, staring long and hard at the dented and scraped, vibrant red alloy. Now that he was out of immediate danger, he second guessed his resolution to dump it. It was expensive, and looked absolutely awe-inspiring.

He saw it in his mind’s eye. Him as an Arch Mage, striding through the ranks of a great army, the common soldiers parting before him and chanting his name:

Flame Knight! Flame Knight! Flame Knight!

He smiled, a sad, wistful smile. Twice now, the armour had almost gotten him killed, and as far as he was aware, it had neither saved his life nor struck the fear of the gods into any opponents.

It was extremely expensive, though.

He stripped his arms from the gauntlets to the pauldrons and lay down to sleep. Maybe he didn’t need to ditch the entire suit, just lighten the load a little.

*

He awoke to the cries of a falcon, and looked up to see a majestic specimen wheeling overhead, crying into the clear blue skies. Soon after, he heard the unmistakable clip clop of hooves from within the forest. He sat up and strained his eyes, peering into the gloom beneath the canopy, when a dozen horsemen burst out and charged towards them.

“Leo! On your feet!” Ferez said as he jumped up, marshalling flame around his fists. He scanned the ranks of the horsemen, prioritising his targets and preparing for violence.

And he was sure there would be violence.

These weren’t the famed Aderathian knights, but they were definitely soldiers. Each sported chainmail and leather armour, a cavalryman’s spear fixed to the saddle, and short recurve bows in their hands. None had nocked arrows. Yet.

Once they were within bow range, they peeled, spreading out to either side of the mages. Leo pressed up against Ferez’s back and they spun, trying to keep all the horsemen in sight. Ordinarily, a handful of regular soldiers wouldn’t be a concern for Ferez, but he couldn’t get them all at once, and he couldn’t defend himself while attacking. He would need to rely on Leo’s support if this turned violent.

“Ferez, I’m too far away from the sea!”

“What? Why didn’t you say something sooner? We could have waited on the beach!”

“I wasn’t expecting the reception party to be so aggressive.”

“Pit! Alright, on my signal, break for the water. I’ll clear a path and keep them at bay until we get there, then you can mop up the rest.”

“What’s the signal?”

“Oh, you’ll know,” Ferez replied as he pooled Talent into his hands.

Time to start making a name for himself.

“Hold it right there,” an unfamiliar voice called out. Ferez turned towards the sound and found a woman, looking to be in her early thirties and bearing the robes of a wind mage, seated atop a horse. Ferez noted she also wore her robes like a cloak, exposing a simple white linen vest and men’s pants. At least she wasn’t wearing armour, this town wasn’t big enough for two fashionable battlemages, but as she swung her feet over the saddle and floated to the ground, Ferez had to admit; he was quietly impressed.

She stalked towards them.

The newcomer was a Skjar. Snow white skin and flesh that looked hard as ice, storm grey eyes and pure white hair tied in a long braid down her back, a single tuft falling from her fringe over an eye. But it was the woad tattoos that really gave it away.

The bright blue pigment covered her eyelids up to her brows and down to her cheekbones, trailing away over her temples with a flourish, and disappearing into her hairline. The trail reappeared behind her ears, running down either side of her throat before meeting just above the clavicular notch and separating again to trace the outline of her collarbones. As the lines reached her shoulders, they exploded into a complex pattern of knots and whorls as they cascaded down her heavily muscled arms, ending at her hands, which were solid blue.

She flicked the errant strand of hair from her face as she stopped just a few meters away, looking Ferez up and down. After a few seconds, she scoffed and turned to Leo.

“Leo, Leo, Leo. I always knew you were a fucking idiot, but smuggling through my territory without approval? The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Well,” Leo began, wringing his hands and looking everywhere except at her, “there were extenuating circumstances. I didn’t have time to contact you first, and also we aren’t actually smuggling anything really, so no harm done, right?”

“I disagree, Leo. Smuggling aside, I told you last time that I would kill you if you ever showed your face again.”

“I still think that’s a tad harsh, Ingrid.”

“I don’t care what you think, Leo. No one does. I doubt even your friend there,” Ingrid said, pointing her chin briefly towards Ferez. Seeing the opportunity to introduce himself, he stepped forward.

“Ferez. Ferez Abdul Ahud, Pyrisian Adept and here on official college business,” he said with a short bow.

“And yet you turn up in the company of this oaf on a smuggling boat,” Ingrid replied, crossing her arms over her chest, her mouth forming a thin line.

“As Leo said, there were extenuating circumstances. The Guild wants us dead, or Leo, at any rate. I don’t know what the issue is between the two of you, but I’m just here for information regarding a rogue mage. I’ll just head off to town and meet you there when you’re done here.”

Ferez ignored Leo’s whimper and started walking, but stopped when Ingrid held up her hand. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Excuse me?”

“Even if you hadn’t turned up with Leonardo, I’d still be sceptical of a college sycophant turning up unannounced. I conduct business here, and I need to ensure a level of operational security.”

Ferez laughed and kept walking. “I have no interest in your smuggling activities, Ma’am.”

He stopped again when a gust of wind hit him. It wasn’t much, just enough to stagger him a little, but the message was clear.

“So, Leo told you about that, did he? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Ingrid shook her head. “I’m going to ask you to come along quietly. I suggest you comply.”

Ferez turned to face her, blinking to clear his watering eyes. He could sense Talent coiling around her like a snake, the ripples through the grass at her feet betraying a swarm of magically driven air currents. He hadn’t noticed her power before now, having Leo standing beside him had dampened his ability to detect her Talent, but now that he focussed, he realised how much power she actually wielded. It was… significant, easily on par with his own.

Where she definitely outmatched him, though, was in experience. A mage’s looks were deceiving. They aged far slower than regular people. She looked about thirty, but she could be a hundred for all he knew. But he did have one key advantage.

He was a fire mage. If there was a college that excelled in the art of war, it was Pyris, while Caelis mages were barely more use in combat than an Aetherial mage.

He licked his lips and started channelling, the magic spreading from his core down into his hands, while more saturated his body to passively protect against attacks. Ingrid’s eyes narrowed as she sensed Ferez’s movements.

“Foolish boy.”

She snapped into a boxer’s stance as Ferez weaved a curtain of flame between them. Caelis magic was quick, even quicker than Aquis, but if he could keep her at bay long enough to launch a proper attack of his own, he’d have this resolved in moments.

He recoiled as his fire wall disintegrated, Ingrid bursting through its centre amidst a shell of air. She darted in close and threw an uppercut into Ferez’s jaw that sent his eyes rolling back, followed by a straight punch into his chest that launched him off his feet.

By the Pantheon, he thought as he sailed through the air. She’s strong.

He crunched to the mercifully soft ground and rolled, gasping for breath. Even with his armour, that second punch had crushed his solar plexus, and it was all he could do not to throw up. He rolled onto his back, hands splayed by his side as he fought to regain control of his body. Leo appeared above him, staring down, his mouth set in a grimace.

“Sorry, Ferez, I probably should have mentioned her full name earlier. It’s Ingrid. Ingrid Luftfaust.”

Luftfaust, Ferez thought as he coughed up a ball of bile. Wind Fist.


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