An immense camp that stretched on miles in every direction lighted up the night with thousands of torches. It was the camp of the Tarnorian army, where more than twelve thousand men were assembled to break the siege of Lamina.

It was the whole army of the eastern region, with a few reinforcements from The White City. The commander was Kendall, the prince of Handuïl.

The ruling families of the three other regions than the North were all descendants of Amondil, and were therefore called princes. They didn’t have any right to the Throne of Andrath though, only to the lesser thrones of the regional capitals, the cities of Angaroth, Vestis and Handuïl, respectfully the capitals of the Southern, Western and Eastern provinces. Andrath was both the capital of the Northern Province and the whole kingdom.

In the centre of this camp, there had been established a training ground. Gil stood in the middle, with a confident smile on his face, and a wooden sword which tip was pointed at the opponent in front of him.

His opponent was a tall and muscular man. This was Dylan, who was said to be the most formidable warrior in the Eastern province’s army. He had challenged Gil, itching to measure his skill against one of the formidable elves on the training grounds. Dylan had chosen a training sword and an oval shield, seeing how quickly Gil had gotten past the guard of the challengers before him who had only chosen a sword. They were simply not fast enough.

They slowly approached each other, and exchanged a few light blows, to test and value the opponent, while searching for openings. But for Dylan, that was the problem, in his eyes there were a lot of them. But he didn’t know if they were traps, or simply his lack of experience against this fighting style Gil used. Or if they were actual weaknesses.

Grumbling, Dylan lashed out with a strong horizontal swing, which Gil evaded by taking a step back. Dylan then passed the sword over his head in a little circular movement and used the momentum to transform it to a downward slash while stepping forward to reach him.

Gil side-stepped and pushed Dylan’s sword slightly to the left side, and then made a quick backhand chop which Dylan barely had the time to block with his shield. Then Gil swiftly turned on himself using the blocked sword to push himself, therefore evading the sword thrust that Dylan countered with, and by the same time finding himself on the soldier’s exposed side.

Dylan gave up when he felt the blade on his neck.

“You are so fast! How do you do it?” He asked, impressed by Gil’s reaction speed and fluid movements.

“My strength to weight ratio is a lot better than you humans.” Gil said with a little smile. “And I have been practising for many years.”

Dylan laughed, and tapped Gil on the back. “It will be a pleasure to have you by our side, hopefully watching my back at the battle of tomorrow.” The other soldiers agreed with him in a loud brouhaha.

“Thank you, brothers in arms. I will try my best not to disappoint you.” Gil said, still with confident and cheerful smile.

Gil had spared and exchanged blows with many soldiers, and tried his best to fit in and make them like him. He had more or less succeeded, and guaranteed himself an excellent reputation in the past few days.

One never knew when he could use that positive reputation.

The next day was the day of the battle, and Mendel’s unit had been assigned as a guard to Gil, who had been positioned in a reserve. Prince Kendall tried his best not to put him in any serious danger by keeping him away from the frontlines.

Gil was stationed behind the army and wasn’t able to see much. His horse had gotten a strong quality chainmail, which would be able to divert blows from swords and thrusts from spears, or stop arrows from long range to cause serious wounds. It would serve next to nothing against a good war hammer though.

He looked in the horizon, but couldn’t see the city yet. The Sa’arans had decided to break up their forces, leaving just enough to hold out the siege while the rest would face the Tarnorians. They didn’t want to risk a sortie by the besieged if they fought the Tarnorians in front of the city, and being caught in an hammer and anvil position.

That meant that they were a little outnumbered though, Tarnor having mustered over twelve thousand fresh soldiers, against their eleven thousand present on the field of battle today.

Victory was far from a sure thing though, as the Sa’arans commander, Azariah had proven to be a praiseworthy general.

The Tarnorians had spread their line out, to be able to envelop the enemy forces and rout them. They slowly advanced, while both sides exchanged arrow rains. Soon the charge came, which hit the Sa’arans hard, with fighting erupting from all over the front.

The screams and noises started hitting on the nerves of men and horses alike, making them anxious and bad-tempered.

An hour passed with Gil sitting on his horse, trying to remain calm. It was his first major battle, and he was sitting on his horse unable to see or learn anything of importance. A true waste.

After a good while, the Sa’arans began to break, which became a large scale rout as other units were overwhelmed by the holes formed in their lines.

Many Sa’arans were taken prisoner, to return back if a peace treaty was formed or else to be sat to work in fields.

Gil and his company just watched as the soldiers finished the battle. Eventually, the army gathered again and marched on Lamina, which they found freed. The rest of the enemy army had left, abandoning their campaign and ambitions, for a time.

The army entered the city in triumph, with supplies and provisions for the supposedly starved populace. Soon trade would start up again and the city would continue its normal life.

The army established a camp outside the city, while celebrations were going on inside and many soldiers found happiness within the walls, even if just for one night. The people were rejoicing in the streets, some were dancing to festive music while others were just happily talking with each other.

Gil was on his horse, trotting through the streets alone, looking for a certain wizard. He had borrowed soldier equipment, as to hide his identity and better blend in. He recognised a Laminan soldier, thanks to his black clothes with a red roaring lion on, the motif of Lamina’s royalty.

“Excuse me brave soldier, you wouldn’t happen to know a certain Filian?” Seeing the incomprehension in the man’s slightly drunk eyes, he passed and asked the next again, but again received the same reaction. “The mage? The one with a sword and magic?” He said, irritated.

“Oh yeah, the battle-mage! Of course I know him!” The soldier happily shouted.

“Then where does he live?” Gil asked with renewed hope.

“Em... Where he lives? How should I know?” The man said confused, but then erupted into a grin. “Want some ale?” Gil shook his head. “Enjoy the party, man!”

“Right, you too.” Gil said exasperated and moved on. He continued on for a few hours, and most soldiers knew him by name, the man apparently being really famous and respected by them.

He was riding quite fast, and nearly hit a small thin man who quickly sprang out of the way.

“My apologies.” The man was about to throw some insults when he got a good look at Gil.

“No worries... Can I help with something?” He said amiably. What a professional. keeping his emotions in line for potential clients... He thought amused.

“Actually, I was wondering if the battle-mage Filian had passed through around here. “ Gil said, pretending to look around himself searching for him.

The tailor grinned. “Oh, he’s on the wall, waiting for a girl.” Then he stopped, looking a little worried. “But if it’s really important, then I can call him down.”

Gil smiled victoriously, he didn’t even bother to ask what he was doing on top of the wall. “No, I’ll go up there myself.” The tailor showed him a ladder, on the side of his house that led to the top, from where he could jump up to the wall top.

The tailor excused himself many times for the trouble and unconventional means, but Gil reassured him constantly, and left him his horse to take care of.

Gil climbed the ladder elegantly and jumped up to the wall without problem. The wall was thick, maybe thirteen feet large. He looked in each direction and spotted a lone figure who was gazing at the horizon.

“Hello there!” Gil shouted out in a friendly tone.

The figure immediately turned around upon hearing the unfamiliar voice.

“Hello...?” He slowly said. Filian was a tall and fit young man, still looked under twenty, though he was probably a little older. Wizards aged slightly slower than humans, a side-effect of their magic empowering their body. He had brown eyes and ash-blond hair, with a large mouth and thin lips.

“You can call me Gil.” He said. “Meslis hasn’t told me much about you, and it will be my pleasure to get to know you better.”

“You know Meslis?” The figure said, seemingly relaxing, though he was still at least twenty feet away. Gil was strolling up to him though.

“I do, he referred me to you. I am seeking a teacher in the magic arts.” Gil’s smile grew larger. “Are you the battle-mage Filian?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, but I am still young and discovering magic myself.” Filian said apologetically.

“I thought so. I’m not interrupting you with anything right? A meeting with a girlfriend perhaps?” Gil could clearly see that Filian was nervous, and attributed it to the must logic reason.

“Oh no, just a friend. Do you need something else?” Filian asked.

“One last thing, then I will leave, I promise.” Gil said with a hopeful expression, and Filian nodded. “Do you know any other wizards willing to teach me?”

“Well...”

“Fillian! It’s him!” A voice screamed behind them. Gil quickly turned around, and saw Ellyn who had just climbed up the wall, frantically looking at them.

“Wha...” Filian said before being knocked over by Gil’s Loth, and pinned against the soil of the wall.

“Ellyn? What are you doing here?” Gil said with a strained smile.

She then threw a dagger at him. He had to retract his Loth from Filian to send it intercept the projectile. His Loth easily pushed the knife aside but it could only be at one place at a time, though it was as fast as his thoughts.

“What is going on Ellyn?” He said, and he gripped her with his Loth and pulled her several meters up in the air. “I thought we were friends. Why would you try to kill me, hm?” He said. “Unless you saw something you shouldn’t have seen.”

“You killed Meslis, you monster! You ripped him apart!” She said with tears of anger and sorrow. Everything that she had been holding in since leaving the village came flowing out. “And you got away, seeking you next wizard to brutally murder!” She had found Filian before the siege.

Gil had taken the long detour, to get to the army while she had been fighting alongside Filian, once she had found him. The young man hadn’t believed her about the sorcerer, but was a very friendly and kind companion otherwise. And courageous when the situation needed it.

Gil was wondering what he should do with her. She knew, but she wasn’t a wizard and she had been friendly before. He sighed. “Look, I’m probably going to regret this, but can’t you just get out of my sight and disappear forever?” He asked.

Instead he was hit by an unnaturally powerful blow of wind which sent him flying off the wall, with a repressed grunt.

Ellyn fell down and landed on her feet and stumbled a little before getting up again.

“You’re okay?” Filian asked, running over to her. “I’m truly sorry I didn’t believe you... It’s just, the sorcerers are supposed to be extinct, and then you tell me there is an elven sorcerer...”

“I know, I know, let’s get out of here.” She said. Then she looked back. “You think he’s dead?”

Filian shook his head.”I wouldn’t count on it. He had enough time while falling down to do something to survive. I would have died though, so if he is a young sorcerer then maybe he’s dead.” He smiled grimly. “But if he’s not, he’s gonna know hell for sure. I’m gonna contact the mage Order of Jeidan, and we are going to hunt him down.”