"Sit tight." I tell Mills, "A formal duel has been called by the Order. If anyone on your side intervenes, the Order will order their goblin army to charge the camp."

"Thank goodness for civilization at least." Mills sighs in relief, "I was really worried there for a moment about the goblins just, y'know, being let of the leash and doing their thing."

I grunt in vague agreement with Mills and turn back into the camp, heading toward where Loaner had been hitched. I'm a magic knight of the House of Robeur, and that meant keeping up with appearances, especially when responding to a challenge from a rival house. Riding gallantly out to save the day on top of my noble steed was the show I needed to put on for the client.

"Hey." I remark, a stray thought suddenly coming to me, "That declaration, it said that the Order was hired by the House of Rahm as well, right?"

"Yes?" Mills nods in agreement, falling in beside me while his staff watch us with barely concealed nervousness. I feel like breaking character for a moment and tell them everything will be fine, for them anyway. Thanks to the formal duel, the Order won't harm the mundanes even if I'm defeated. As long as Mills recognizes that defeat and packs up his operation here, of course.

"So?" I quiz the client, "What's up with that? Care to explain?"

"Personally, I have no idea." Mills shrugs as he scratches his chin, "Though I can make a fairly good guess. Most probably its another member of my family deciding to run me out of here."

"Huh. You have one fucked up family, man." I mutter, shaking my head, "Comes with the territory of being a noble, I suppose."

"You know what's really fucked up?" Mills asks, taking me by surprise by the unexpected heat in his voice and the vulgarity used, "This world is fucked up. This whole world. You think something matters, and then it turns out, nothing matters at all. Not in the way you first thought it did. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm not sure I do?" I reply uncertainly, still getting my balance back after that sudden outburst from Mills.

"Never mind." Mills sighs and shrugs, "You either get it or you don't. Though I'm hoping you'll be one of the few who understand one day."

"Well, I hope so too -" I begin but my thread of thought is rudely broken by a harsh tearing sound coming from nearby.

Spinning about in alarm, I see Loaner pulling at the post he had been tied to, muscles straining. The horse's eyes are narrowed in consternation as it huffs from the discomfort. And with a final, titanic burst of effort, Loaner tears the entire post out of the ground, before turning heel and rushing for the rear entrance of the camp.

"Stop!" I cry out, but nobody is bothered about Loaner's antics with the goblins right outside. Loaner barges through the gate, the post clattering on the ground next to him, and quickly proceeds to make a break for freedom. Both Mills and I watch slack jawed, as Loaner disappears into the distance, the blasted animal doing that sarcastic sounding neigh all the while.

"Uh." Mills mumbles pensively, trying to break the awkward mood between us.

"Yeah." I nod at nothing in particular before shutting my eyes as a wave of irritation threatens to engulf me utterly.

"I could loan you another horse?" Mills suggests helpfully.

"Never mind." I fold my arms across my chest, trying to stifle the growing embarrassment building within, "I have legs. I'll just walk to the duel."

......

I walk through the ranks of the goblins as they glare and shuffle. But all of them are remarkably obedient, letting me pass unhindered toward where the Order sword master waits for me. From this distance, I can tell that while the Order sword master is in great physical shape, he is also an old man. The holes in his baclava reveal obvious wrinkles that line the man's face. Age spots also dot the patches of skin that have not been covered up by armor.

Age by itself means nothing. As magic knights, both of us draw most of our strength from guess what, magic, and not brute muscle. That means that my elderly opponent could in theory be as physically strong or even stronger than I am. I could not afford to lower my guard. But there was nevertheless some comfort to be had here. Being older meant the Order sword master should have less natural stamina and concentration. If the duel drags on for long enough, my opponent's control over his magic would hopefully waver, giving me the edge.

There's the sound of moving feet behind me as the goblins ranks start shifting about once more. The monsters form a neat, perfect circle enclosing me in with the Order sword master, preventing either of us from retreating. The Order conscripts stand to the side, silently observing the proceedings while manipulating those glyphs held in their hands.

"I never expected you to walk here." the Order sword master says, voice cracked from age.

"I needed to stretch my legs." I reply, internally face palming and cursing Loaner, "Its a nice day for a walk, at any rate."

The old man merely laughs at my response, shifting his stance to be slightly more comfortable.

"Good thing we picked today for the invasion then."

"I accept your challenge." I nod and draw my sword, "Let's get this over with."

"Good. Good." the old man chortles as he unsheathes his own sword in a single, vigorous stroke, "Getting straight to the point. I like that."

With weapons drawn, both of us begin to circle each other warily, the air almost electric with the magical energies being channeled. The old man's pace is even, relaxed but not careless, showing no openings for me to take advantage of. I cluck my tongue in annoyance. Looks like I'm not going to be able to score an easy win here. Going to have to earn my pay.

"Did you know something Mac? I can call you Mac, right?" the old man says almost solicitously.

"Knock yourself out." I quip back, eyes not leaving my opponent, my body ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

"That first invasion. The one with the goblin warlord?" the old man smirks from behind the baclava, "You really took us by surprise when you defeated that war pack."

"I aim to please." I say, keeping the old man in my sight at all times.

The old man's voice then goes deadly serious, "That force balanced to be enough to kill you and your apprentice. Which brings us to why I'm here today."

"To finish things off? Big surprise there." I snort, rolling my eyes.

"Not necessarily." the old man shakes his head, "You're a curious specimen, Mac Nair. I'm hoping that you will surprise us again."

"Someone's feeling confident." I guffaw, "Don't count your chickens before they hatch, you geriatric."

"Very well." the old man salutes, "Deeds not words!"

And my opponent slashes at me, his sword a blur. Gritting my teeth, I raise the flat of my blade and the weapons clash with a shower of sparks. The magic empowering my muscles strains against the impact but is enough to fend off that attack. I notice with some satisfaction as my opponent slightly staggers backward from that swift exchange. The old man quickly regains his footing, but I've already gotten his measure.

The old man is fast and strong.

But not as fast and strong as myself.

And that's all that matters in this duel.

I spring forward with barely restrained aggression, sword lashing out in an overhead chop. Instead of dodging like I expected, the old man meets me strength for strength, parrying my attack head on. Our blades lock and as I push, I feel my opponent's entire body shudder from the effort needed to hold me back. Our bodies thrum with the power of magic, and I feel my hair stand on end.

"Someone's been confident," I smile, "a little too confident, maybe?"

"A problem with the young." the old man sighs patronizingly as he begins to be pushed back, "The folly of youth."

"Pretty big talk from someone who is losing." I sneer, not bothering to hide my contempt for that ancient braggard.

"Well, you're not that young, so I could be wrong there." the old man guffaws, keeping our blades locked together like dueling bulls, "And this fight is far from over."

I keep up the pressure, trying to force the old man to the ground, but he remains doggedly standing. I nevertheless feel the strands of magic empowering my opponent starting to give way from the constant abuse its being subjected to. Our feet crunch as the old man staggers backward a few inches, steadily giving up ground.

"I'm curious about something though," I pant through gritted teeth, "your conscripts controlling those monsters. It shouldn't be possible, even with those glyphs, or whatever your conscripts are using."

"Why?" the old man asks with irritating smugness, blinking the sweat from his eyes.

"Stop playing dumb." I growl and increase the force exerted by my arms, "Conscripts aren't trained in the Higher Truths of magic. So the glyphs should be useless in their hands."

"But your eyes don't lie, Mac Nair." the old man rebuts, as his legs start to buckle from my onslaught.

"And I want to know the trick the Order used!" I yell, "Tell me and I won't make things harder for you!"

"Of course the glyphs can be used by the conscripts." the old man sniggers unpleasantly, "Anyone can use them, once all the mysticism has been taken away. Even children."

"What garbage are you talking about?" I demand, but the old man is not in the least intimidated.

"Take our duel for instance, Mac." a sinister leer crosses the old man's face, "Both of us wielding magic, unleashing the power of the Higher Principle. And you feeling so confident of your chances."

"Sure am." I reply, "My magic's stronger than yours. How many more blows can your arms take before the spellwork unravels?"

"No much more." the old man admits, "But that's really not the point here."

"Better make the point fast then." I taunt as my blade slams against the old man's parry, this time very nearly breaking his stance.

"You think the Higher Principle gives us power over the world." the old man shakes his head sadly, "Orthodox nonsense, taught to seduce small minds and delude them from the truth."

"That nonsense is kicking your ass right now." I reply, pressing my advantage.

"You view the Higher Principle as fundamentally superior." the old man continues, totally unflustered, "but that is not completely true. You see, while the Higher Principles may rule, Materialism reigns."

The moment my opponent says that, I feel a sudden weight slam against my shoulders. The rebuke of Materialism, seeking to undo my magic. I grit my teeth and battle back, forcing away Materialism's influence, demanding it surrender to the authority of the Higher Principle.

"And here's the secret." the old man leans close and whispers into my ear, "The Higher Principle stands upon the base of Materialism. The Higher Principle cannot exist in isolation."

And just like that, my magic ups and vanishes. There's no pain, no struggle. I don't even feel the displeasure of Materialism at me. Its as if I never possessed magic in the first place.

With a single heave of his arms, the old man sends me sprawling across the ground. My training takes over and I execute a roll, churning up dust and easily getting back on my feet.

"Materialism shapes the Higher Principle." the old man says, standing calmly and waiting for me to approach again, "Both elements exist in a spiraling contradiction with each other. But since the Higher Principle cannot exist by itself -"

"Materialism is the true dominant force." I complete the sentence, a sinking feeling in my heart.

"Very good, Mac. Very good indeed." the old man congratulates, "You're a fast learner at least. And now you also know why the Order only has sword masters in its ranks. Unlike what the Orthodox knightly houses teach, the school of the sword is in reality the strongest. No magic can stop our blades, if we so wish it."

"That's why you don't fear Christina." I mumble, realizing why the old man did not bother taking into account a battle mage showing up. If he can shut down our magic at will then -

"Is that your Apprentice?" the old man hums, "Well, even a full battle mage would be no match for me. I would just walk up and gut her. What I wonder now is, how good are you a sword master Mac? How good are you really?"

I get back into the ready stance, glaring at my opponent.

"Good enough to deal with you." I grunt.

"We shall see, won't we?" the old man grins as he advances upon me.

"We shall see."