The group was due to meet up again two weeks after they had returned from their first visit to the Fae realm. An official invitation had been issued to them all, an opportunity to join the Magistratum. Officially now out of the training given to all at the Academy, they faced another choice, stay as a group, work with the Magisters through the Magistratum and the Academy or go their own way. The Academy trained all, it served their interest to have trained Awakened across the realm, but their hope was that those they trained would choose to stay and work with them and the Magistratum to protect the realms. They needed people, not all Awakened came to them, and not all Awakened that came, stayed.

Jade awaited the arrival of the group. A meeting request had been sent to each, now she waited to see who would arrive. She fidgeted a bit, nervous of how many would remain. I t had been made clear to her that keeping this group together was greatly desired by the magisters. At worst, they felt that they must retain Martin, his unique Patron too great a loss if he decided to leave. She had been told that he was already at work in the forge they had prepared for him, and she had been given permission to offer further inducements to get him to stay if necessary.

She looked up as the first of the ex-students entered. Kilia arrived wearing something Jade had not seen her in before, tight fitting leathers that were almost scandalous in how they clung to her. She seemed to notice Jade’s regard and seemed to be smirking a bit as she sat down. Next in was Hurnith, it seemed he had hurried here, still carrying his travel bag with the faint smell of dog clinging to him. He smiled apologetically to them as he sat down.

“My apologies, I have been out hunting with the pack, I only just made it here in time and have not had a chance to bathe.” He sniffed and grimaced, mumbling to himself, “I reek, better to have been late than smell like this.”

Gwynneth arrived next, she had been back in the Academy for a few days already and had chosen to dress more formally for the occasion, her backless dress leaving her wings free, an embroidered emblem, Jade assumed to be of her clan, worked into each shoulder. Jade hoped the formal wear did not presage her leaving the group, though at least she had arrived.

The three greeted each other, making small talk as time passed. The time for the formal start of the meeting had arrived, and Martin had yet to appear. Jade quailed, if he did not even bother to come to the meeting chances were he would not return to the Academy and she would have to face the Magisters’ displeasure. She stood up, about to start when they heard the running of feet from the corridor. Martin burst in, his hair dishevelled, his shirt not properly buttoned u,p and the smell of smoke clung to him. Sheepishly he looked at them before approaching.

“Sorry! I woke up and went to the forge forgetting this was the day we met. When I did remember I ran here as fast as I could.”

He slid into a seat, looking around and seeing Hurnith almost laughing while Jade just looked relieved. Kilia and Gwynneth seemed to be doing their best to keep their faces neutral, not really succeeding but at least not outright laughing like Hurnith.

Jade smiled at the group, “I am glad you are all here. Honestly, I am both relieved and surprised. So many choose to not come back here, especially those from realms where there are either strong incursions of the dark and people choose to fight there rather than here, and those from realms at peace with no incursions of the dark who see no point in putting themselves at risk. Since we have people from both those groups here, I am delighted that you all chose to return and to join with us in the battle against the dark.” She stopped briefly, but as no one spoke out she rejoiced inside, none were calling her on the assumption they were staying and not just being polite in coming here. Her mood markedly lighter she continued. “Do you know what is offered to those who choose to join us at the Magistratum working with the Magisters? Are there any questions?”

Hurnith stood, walking around to stand behind his chair, leaning forward over its back. “I know we keep our rooms here and can eat as we wish from the canteen, use the library, ask the trainers for help and get discounts on the equipment made by the smiths. But what if we don’t want to live here? Are there any choices.”

“Of course, you are adults, there is no reason for you to live here if you choose not to. Feel free to go into the city, find accommodation to your liking. Then let the Secretariat here know and they will transfer all your possessions from your room to there.” She held her hand up before Hurnith could speak again. “Yes, we pay towards your accommodation expenses, though that is not unlimited. If you are curious speak to the Secretariat, the amounts change so best to confirm what the current stipends are.”

Kilia raised her hand, looking at Jade as she did so. “How much time are we expected to give to the Magistratum, and how much is our own time?” She looked at the others, “I am committed, but you never know when you going to need personal time.” She then looked at Martin and away though it seemed her next remark was aimed at him. “And don’t some of us need more time to really connect with our powers away from the battlefield?”

Hurnith could be heard snorting in derision, “Worried you not going to get more free equipment? No surprise that from a follower of Delir!”

Gwynneth slapped Hurnith on the back of his head, looking to defuse the situation before the antipathy between the two could grow and cause a rift in the group, but she held herself back from commenting when she noticed how Kilia simply ignored Hurnith. She looked at Kilia, thinking that something must have happened in the time they had been parted. A new outfit seemed just an outward change masking a deeper internal one.

Jade quickly started speaking, thinking like Gwynneth to defuse the situation, “You give us as much time as you choose. The only time we will enforce anything is if there is a crisis and without everyone participating we would have a real problem coping. But otherwise there is no minimum, though of course the more active the better.”

The meeting continued a while longer, minor matters being sorted out, before it ended. The four friends made their way to the canteen. The meeting had taken long enough that it was time for the midday meal. As they walked, Martin started talking about his new forge, his enthusiasm obvious, but not shared by the others. Gwynneth did find his talk about moving mana into the runes interesting and asked a question that came to her mind.

“Martin, you talk about enhancing items physical properties. Strength, weight, sharpness, elasticity and form, but what about elemental properties? Can you add those to weapons using runes?”

Martin stopped, looking at her. He had only read the basic book on runes, and that seemed to concentrate on the basic properties of items. She raised an interesting possibility. Could he embed fire or other properties into a blade? He scratched the scraggly beard that had started to grow and looked at her. “I don’t know. I had not thought of that. Before coming here I had just passed my apprenticeship as a village blacksmith and had no knowledge of runes or mana. I will have to find books and see if anyone has recorded any information about this.” He stopped and smiled, “Or I can go and ask Master Anders, he did say he would train me if I asked.” He started whistling happily as they moved towards the canteen, life was good.

***

Deep within the woods that surrounded the Covenant a tree shone blue as a door appeared within. From it a man-sized creature emerged, though it looked like no man. Its skin was a deep red, a sharp tusk protruded on either side of its mouth, each sticking out at least 10 centimetre, their off white lengths coming to a sharp point below its chin. His nose was the most human part of him, especially compared to his eyes that were the green slitted orbs of a hunting beast. He stood close to two metres tall, and was dressed in hunting clothes, though made of a fine and supple leather. He quickly recited a formula and channelled his man, bringing his features to be those of a man, nothing special, not too unnoteworthy, but just handsome enough that people would react positively. He sniffed the air, recited another formula, and started walking towards the Covenant of the Tears.

It was nearing sunset when the strange man approached the Covenant. Few remarked on it, though they took him for a wealthy travel from his better than normal clothes and the pack he carried on his back. He trudged down the track that formed the road merchants used to enter while absently looking at the village as he approached. A few of the village children with nothing better to do started moving towards him and thus saw what happened next.

As the man approached it seemed like the air shimmered, turned into a blue wall and collapsed onto him. As it fell, it seemed to do no harm, but the children looked on in horror as the disguise was pushed him, revealing his true form and face. They fled, screaming, shouting for help and that a demon was approaching. A few of the idle men grabbed whatever weapon they had at hand, mainly work tools, and came out to see the commotion. They looked up as they saw a glow coming from the manor where the Magi lived, wondering if they were to blame.

Vilandre felt herself lifted on a mound of earth, being shifted down the hill and through the village faster than any horse could move. Helmesford was kneeling, his hands dug into the earth, sensing the earth, guiding her to the path. He could feel the taint of the presence of the creature of the dark, and knew Vilandre had to get there before any of the villagers were foolish enough to approach and engage the creature. Vilandre could see the people moving towards the commotion. She watched them falling behind her, literally, as the rippling earth pulled them from their feet. Soon she passed the children and arrived before the creature as it came to its feet.

She came to a halt almost ten metres away, looking at it and trying to estimate its strength. She noted the sword it bore, a falchion, its curved blade flaring at the tip. It looked at her, sneering, its fangs taking a reddish glow from the setting sun. She drew her own sword, a two edged longsword with a fuller to reduce its weight and to let her wield it more deftly. Beneath her hand a rune to enhance her grip made sure the sword would never leave her hand unless she died or her hand was removed in its entirety. A rune on the blade flared briefly as she concentrated, sending mana into it, bringing pure white flames to burn along the edges of the blade.

The creature looked at her, then at the blade, weighing what it saw. “Swordmage, do you judge so quickly?” It laughed, “Are you not supposed to wait for me to actually do evil before you burn with Holy flame?”

Vilandre remained silent, slowly walking in, her sword at guard. She raised her other arm, and with another stream of mana a bracer on her wrist flared and a shield shaped blue light took shape. As she approached, she crouched down, presenting the shield first as she approached, her sword held ready behind it.

The creature also took a fighting stance, his falchion facing forward while his other hand remained loose. He started circling, looking at her, pulling his lips back in a sneer. “So Swordmage, you think you are a match for me. I am a Captain of a hundred, you are but a weak human.”

Vilandre remained silent as she watched his movement, his body, his sword. She had no idea of his fighting style and based on his discipline and expertise a twitch in his body could indicate an attack or perhaps there would be no specific body movement, the sword's movement being the only indicator of the attack. Villagers had arrived, along with some of the castle guards and an army contingent. These, seeing the building between the Mage and the demon ran forward.

Seeing the soldiers running forward Vilandre quickly called out, “Stop!” but it was too late. The demon had seen and heard them as well. As he saw them approach, his free hand started weaving a pattern in front of him even as he watched the mage, wary of her attack.

Reading the signs, Vilandre knew the only way to save the soldiers was to disrupt the casting and launched an attack. She launhed a series of strokes and lunges to try and catch the demon off guard, but struck a barrier in front of him, her sword not even reaching his. She could only watch as the charging soldiers found themselves treading air as the ground beneath them disappeared. They screamed as they fell, landing hard at the bottom of the sudden pit, but their screams were cut short as the pit disappeared and they were encased in dirt and rock, dying from the weight of sand and rock suddenly above them and the complete lack of oxygen. The onlookers shouted in despair, horrified at the sudden demise of the soldiers, and started fleeing from the site of the battle and the demon that had so easily defeated the soldiers from the Keep.

Vilandre rejoiced at the crowds fleeing, being able to concentrate on fighting the demon without worrying about the onlookers. She thrust her sword at the barrier, pushing her mana into it as she did, forming an explosive point of mana at its tip just before it hit the barrier. An explosion of light and sound burst forth, the sword pushing through as the barrier dissolved, but the demon had been waiting for the strike, and struck himself, his sword bouncing off the inside of her blade, pushing it aside while using the momentum to guide it towards her chest.

Vilandre twisted, feeling the edge of the sword cut through her clothing and leave a shallow cut along her, but she avoided worse damage. She let the momentum from her body movement carry her to the side, bringing body and sword back in line, and with a cleared target at the undefended side of the demon, overextended from its lunge towards her. She danced on her feet, her sword redirected towards its side, pushing towards where kidneys would be on a human, away from where the sword would be stopped by an inconvenient rib. But the creature showed its own nimbleness, jumping backwards and remaining untouched.

The two stood staring at her each other, swords ready. The creature looked at her, its mouth beginning to curl up when it suddenly came to a halt, panic entering its eyes. Vilandre smiled, her sword shooting out, piercing its chest, striking deeply and causing blood to shoot from its mouth. She looked down at him, “Unlike you claiming you lead a hundred and coming with none, I have friends. She saw Linden standing upon a hill raised by Helmeford, his magic paralysing the creature. She nodded and he released the creature who slumped forward, its life bleeding out in black blood.

“You beat me, but the Dark comes. So will my hundred. There is always someone to lead, someone to make you bleed.” He died, still sneering. The Dark had come to the Covenant of the Tears.