Magic was used as a “shield” after studies conducted by Fiandel’s forces during the times of the great wars.

Currently, it is almost a consensus among fighters that it is useful to learn magic at least at a basic level to be able to cover the body with magic, producing something similar to a second chainmail.

Useful to lessen impacts, avoid deadly wounds and provide protection that does not add any weight, this technique is taught to all soldiers willing to learn it, since even those who do not use magic are able to learn it.

I believe that, soon, this technique will become mandatory for any soldier of any nation.

Magic Notes – Collections – Armenvald of Fibo

*

-Wake up, Thiago. Hey. Thiago?

The call is in vain, and the caller knows it. The state of numbness induced by the poison is obvious to everyone who managed to get out of the battle unscathed.

Yvanna, Rinlia, Galaaz and Nafaester put themselves around the bodies that were victims of the Arachnes poison: Thiago, Arthur and Gaenar. The soldier, the boy and the werewolf were carried for a few meters to a point where there were no dead bodies or the remains of spider guts to attract predators.

They found a quiet area near a ravine that, according to Galaaz, could guide them to the lakes of Peace.

The trip, however, would have to wait. The effects of the poison cause Thiago – the first to be poisoned – to exhibit bulging veins around his neck, which become more evident by the minute.

Yvanna does not show despair, but remains seated beside the body, massaging the soldier’s chest after removing his armor, calling his name, striving to remain calm and composed.

-Hmmm!

Nafaester tries, for the fourth time, to get the attention of the others. Rinlia had ignored her for the last few minutes, however, given the situation and the fact that the nymph did not try to escape after Arthur extracted the energy from the Arachnes, the elf feels enough confidence to remove the gag from her mouth for a few moments.

-Finally! – The nymph exclaims. Her arms and legs are still tied. – I was trying to say that I can help them!

The phrase impacts Yvanna who, in order not to show interest, needs to turn her face in the opposite direction, gritting her teeth to allow Rinlia to guide the conversation.

-And how do you intend to do that?

-There is an antidote to this poison. It is not complicated, since the Arachnes’ poison is weak, made only to incapacitate their prey.

-If the poison is weak-

-It is made to incapacitate at first. – The nymph interrupts. – It is a natural resource for the Arachnes to wrap the victims in a web cocoon and take them to a place where they can feed in the next few days. That is why the more time the venom is in their bodies, the greater the damage. In a few hours, the three will surely be dead. Starting with the smaller one, since he was hit several times.

Rinlia looks at Arthur. Although he passed out recently, his condition is already similar to Thiago’s. During the battle, the power left him reckless, and he was targeted by almost all the spiders.

-Is she telling the truth? – The elf asks Galaaz, without ceremony. The wolf, who had kept his eyes on Arthur, turns to her.

-As far as I know, it is the truth. – He voids committing to the answer. – Arachnes are not famous for the poison, but for the group attacks. And the antidote for its poison is a relatively common solution among the communities of the Forest. – He notices her look. – I don’t know how to prepare it.

-The antidote can be made with materials collected in this region. – The nymph intervenes. – They are common plants throughout the Forest. Some herbs to stimulate the stomach and some rest will be enough for them to recover quickly.

The elf puts her hand under her chin, but does not delay her answer.

-Very well. What do you need to do the antidote?

Nafaester smiles.

-First, we need to talk about my payment.

-Your payment is your brother’s life. – The elf was prepared. – We will collect enough materials for his dose too. And I am being generous, because my mission did not require that I take you two alive back to the Glade.

Nafaester clenches her fists. She knew that the threat to her brother’s life was a possibility, but she hoped that the elf would not use such strategy. More composure would be needed if she wanted to continue negotiating.

The nymph, thanks to her years with the Council of the Forest, was used to situations of pressure. It took a second for her to calm down, but she managed to look at her brother before looking at the elf with an expression of someone who considers the proposal.

When she felt her voice would be calm enough, she replied:

-If you’re willing to kill my brother, so be it. When I ran away earlier, he should have died. He was willing to give his life for me. Besides, he’s a werewolf. If he is to die from the poison, he will be the last one of the three, so you will have to see your allies dying first.

Rinlia holds Nafaester’s gaze. Even tied, with dirty on her face and with clothes in tatters from the journey of the last few days, the nymph has a gleam in her eyes that is exclusive to those individuals who are used to betting their own lives.

-What do you want in return?

Nafaester unclenches her fists.

-I want the obvious and something else. – She nods in her brother’s direction. – I will give my brother the antidote and you will set us free. After that, we will meet in a few days, when I can get to the territory of Fiandel. – Rinlia’s features are enough for the nymph to understand her confusion. – Yes, I will look for you in the capital of your kingdom. There, you will arrange for me to meet with the highest-ranking officer in your kingdom to whom you can have access.

-What? Why?

-I have matters to discuss with your people. – She feels that this is not the best time to reveal all the details to her. – You know who I am and what I can see. Recently, I had a vision about Fiandel. I want to go over there and see what I can do about it. That’s all you need to know. What I want is for you to put me in contact with someone who have some authority.

Rinlia takes a deep breath. Her gaze is focused on the images lying on the floor.

Is there any other choice?

-The Oracle won’t allow this. – Yvanna says, closing her fists over Thiago’s chest. – Any agreement we make will certainly be seen by her, and we will be killed before leaving the Forest.

-Not if I’m here. She won’t know about this conversation. – The nymph smiles, turning to Galaaz. – Everyone in the Forest knows the main reason I am respected. Is it not true?

The lupine seems conflicted. The answer seems to be stuck between his canines. And, instead of confirming it in words, he simply wiggles his muzzle in a positive sign before lying down next to Arthur’s body.

-What do you mean? – Yvanna asks Nafaester.

-One Oracle cannot have a vision that directly involves the body of the other Oracle.

-But she saw the jewels-

-If she sent you after me, she certainly saw the jewels in your hands. But I doubt she saw me. An Oracle is unable to have visions of another Oracle.

Yvanna turns her face to Rinlia.

The elf sighs before continuing.

-Your plan is to prepare a story before going separate ways, so that we can present our version of the story for the Oracle.

-Sure. And one more thing: You cannot talk about our deal after we split up. Do not talk about me or my brother unless I am with you. It will be difficult, but I am sure that you can do it.

-She can see very far in the future. She may see the consequences of such agreement.

-Yes, but there is a risk in every negotiation. Can’t you take this amount of risk to protect your companions?

Rinlia turns to Arthur, then to Galaaz. The lupine notices her look.

-I have a debt. – The wolf grumbles, turning his face away from her. – This secret could be my payment.

The wolf’s discomfort is evident. However, discomfort is not the same as opposition. And, given the circumstances, it is one of the best possible reactions.

-What is going to be? – Nafaester asks. – Time is passing and, with each second, they become more fragile. What’s your choice? To save your subordinates or to fulfill your mission?

For Rinlia, the answer is obvious. Two of the individuals lying on the grass would risk their own necks to help her. One of them even saved her life not so long ago. What kind of creature would abandon them now?

The elf closes her eyes for a moment. The blond hair dangles the ponytail, messed up during the recent battle.

-The boy. – She says, looking at the unconscious body next to the wolf. – You have to keep it a secret, otherwise we have no deal. And I need your word that your brother will do the same.

The elf looks at Arthur. After the battle, it was obvious that he was powerful enough to be treated as a secret.

-It’s a promise.

One more complication for the elf. One more problem. Another potential danger.

-What herbs will you need?

*

-Listen to me, young soldier. – The voice seems like a distant call to Barsen’s ears, coming from beyond the disturbed dreams that pain brought him when his conscience waned. – I can’t do much for you, but I can, at least, deliver the message to a messenger. It’s the best I can do without risking my life or the security of my family.

-Thank you… It will be enough. I can… - Barsen gasps between words. – I can die after that.

-If you start to die, I’ll have to call a doctor. You know that, don’t you?

-Yes, I know. But it won’t be like that. Even… Even if someone investigates my body now, they… They will know that I would still have some time if I don’t…

He does not finish the sentence. All words are charged with more responsibility than it would be fair to demand of any creature.

-It is a big sacrifice – Nehar whispers, pretending to check the chains that hold the prisoner’s arms. – Are you really willing to do that?

-It’s for my people. – Sweat runs down the ogre’s face. He tastes blood at the back of his throat. There are so many things he wants to say, but he does not have the time. – If anyone can deliver the message, I will gladly die.

Nehar remains silent, in respect to the decision made by the chained ogre. He looks at the door, aware that he needs to go, otherwise the other guard can become suspicious.

-I will deliver the message to a messenger. – The ogre whispers. – I don’t know if the message will find your tribe in Fiandel, or even if something will happen if the message gets there.

-That’s all I ask of you. – Barsen answers, closing his eyes with a tranquility strange to such an oppressive environment. – Hand the messenger a paper, with the mention to my name and tell my tribe… Maetar… - He needs to pause in order to breathe. The guard patiently waits. – Ask them to report the promise to the castle, with the following code: Remember Rendall.

-Remember Rendall. - Nehar repeats.

-Yes, Rendall. Promise… Promise me. Regardless of what happens. Promise on my life that… That is about to expire.

A promise. The biggest weight anyone could put on his shoulders. An unbreakable bond. The greatest guarantee an ogre could offer.

-I promise you, brother.

Nehar sees Barsen’s nod and the tip of a smile on the prisoner’s lips.

He exits and stands next to the door, at his watch post, mentally repeating the message he would have to pass on.

*

When the door closes behind the guard, Barsen’s eyes are taken by the darkness of the room. He is taken to the deepest corners of his mind.

So many things he wanted to do, but would not have the opportunity.

A misfortune that happened on his last mission. How many times have he had the opportunity to die and ended up surviving? He escaped so many times that he could not even count. And yet, on the last mission, the one before living in peace, the icy fingers of death found the way around his neck. Only now he feels the ominous cold that run down his spine.

He remembers Rinlia, Yvanna and so many friends he had not seen in a long time. Daen, the ogre who taught him the art of battle. Raniel, the dwarf who was always willing to place a bet and serve as good company for a drink. Mesatti, the one to whom he should have promised his heart a long time ago.

He would not be able to see the children playing happily in the streets of the citadel. He would not taste the horrible food from the military kitchen. He could not fight with his soldiers, teaching them how to survive on the battlefield. He would not see the sun go down behind the capital’s buildings.

He would never see anything. Never again.

“The promise is made.” It is the thought that sustains him by the arms on the prison wall. It is what moves the magic in his chest, accumulated in the best way a warrior like him is capable of doing. His focus had never been on learning magic, but he knew the basics. He knew the methods told by his people.

And now he would use such knowledge to kill himself.

His heart races. His mind searches for something to hold on in those last few moments.

The pain of the loss of a future that he could have seen is enough to dominate his interior. It smashes the fortress so carefully built into his chest.

Steps in the corridor announce the arrival of someone. Barsen knows exactly who it is. Like a clock, she approaches the cell with amazing punctuality.

The door opens to the arrival of Queen Aetna, accompanied by her husband.

As always, they place themselves on benches and, lit by the single candle, watch the prisoner, until the moment she decides to speak.

-Did Commander Rinlia of Fiandel help the Boy of the Prophecy escape my kingdom?

-There is a reason why us ogres give so much value to promises. – He speaks softly, giving priority to sustaining his voice, so he does not need to stop in the middle of the sentences. Even that effort consumes a small amount of magic. – We follow a code of conduct to strengthen our connection with this world. With traditions.

-That was not an answer for the question. – Orlov replies, but Aetna puts her hand on his knee, stopping her husband so the ogre can continue. It is the first time he actually talks to them.

-My people have resources that are older than Vivre or Fiandel. Older than the Oracle or the Civilized Kingdoms.

-And what resources are those?

The fangs separate and the lips twitch in a macabre smile.

-Curses.

The queen feels the impact of his tone, but keeps her eyes calm and her expression indifferent.

Barsen does not care about the blood on the back of his tongue. He does not care about the absence of any feeling in his arms. He does not even notice Aetna’s indifferent gaze. He just continues to sustain his smile and to prepare the magic inside his body.

-Is that a threat, Barsen?

-Not to you, Aetna. After all, you must have protected yourself from every type of magic, even the curses of the ancient people. But you took my life, remember? You promised that I couldn’t live out of this hell… – Even with all the effort, he needs time to catch his breath. – This hell you planned for me. That means that I have to pay the debt so that my tribe does not have to do it for me.

-Debt? – Orlov seems uncomfortable. Aetna’s gaze intensifies, as if an idea came into her mind.

-Yes, debt. – Barsen sustains his smile. Even chained, he seems to have complete control over the situation. – One life will be taken, then another has to be given. If not Aetna’s, then the life of someone’s worth as much as hers. What do you think, queen? It is really bad luck that you chose one of the few survivors of a persecuted race. Too bad you offered hell to one of the few creatures that knows how to use curses. Someone willing to curse a creature that is not yet protected. A creature that is unprotected against ancient magic!

The queen gets up and extends her hand, but there is not enough time to cast her magic. Before she can kill him, the ogre spits blood on her dress and says:

-I cast a curse over Prince Engill!

It is done.

The queen, speechless, has to sit again, feeling the weight of those words. The ogre continues:

-May the end of my life be the payment for his! May the magic in my body be the seal between me and Vengeance!

Aetna and Orlov, paralyzed, watch Barsen; with a livid face, he says the words that seal the fate of their son, who had not even left the cradle. The words shouted from the blood-filled mouth of the ogre, consumed by hatred.

The guards entered the room, but there is nothing they can do. Nehar watches the scene with attention, aware that this is the moment that seals his obligation to the prisoner.

-This is my final message to you, Aetna. – Barsen’s voice resonates on the walls. – This curse is your fault and nobody else’s. Because the decisions that brought me here were yours from the beginning.

She looks to the soldier’s face. He smiles at her desperate expression. The wound mark near his stomach expands, consuming the ogre’s organs as payment. He uses the magic inside his body to complete the ritual.

There is nothing else to do.

The Fate is now sealed.

-You may live with guilt and pain for the rest of your days.

These are the last words that the great ogre Barsen says before breaking his smile and letting his head fall against his chest, leaving the king and queen in a stunned silence, trapped in the prison created by Barsen’s last act.

*

*