Author's notes:

Hello and thank you for taking your time to read through my story. This is the first time I seriously try to write one of my stories, so any kind of feedback, good and bad alike, is highly appreciated. English is not my first language, but I hope my writing is clean (enough). But please, I personally hate grammatical errors, so if you spot any (WHEN you spot any!), please notify me to fix them.

Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter III: One Last Favor

Martyn continued describing his master's life as best as he could. He told the duchess how he fought with the elder to take him as an apprentice in his smithy. How he taught him to cast his first spells when everyone, including their shaman, weren't able to tell that he even had a spellcasting ability. How he took him in, completely under his protection, when his parents died on a hunting trip shortly therafter.

For Martyn, the middle-aged blacksmith was more than a master. He was his family, his mentor in things even beyond magic, his friend. Yet, even he didn't know the extend of his power. The man casting a dozen spells simultaneously as they cleaved and seared the demons in the battle, was something he had never seen or experienced himself.

“And this? Do you actually know what it is?” Sivath asked pointing at the black pebble in her hand.

“No. Master forbit me to look at it. He only said that it would protect me and that if something happened to him, I should bring it here. I put it in my charm pouch that I had on my neck, along with a few protective charms of my own and another one made for me by our shaman.”

“Your Master, the one you called Wren, was known to the rest of the world as Grant Magister Senthas Wrenal, the Divine Architect, and countless other, meaningless, titles. He was the creator of pieces of art like this one here”

Out of nowhere, a slim staff appeared on her hands. It looked like a single, straight, wooden root at the bottom. As it raised towards her hands, it twisted and turned, growing thicker and thicker, till it reached to be about as thick as a grown man's upper arm. For the headpiece, five, natural, wooden tendrils were extending from its edge, and as they curved, they were creating something like a hollow, spherical, container. Inside it, a translucent white crystal, the size of one's fist, seemed to float, without touching anything.

Martyn had heard stories about Crystal. The solidifed mana of the world. All the known artifacts of the world used it as their power source. But the stories usually spoke of rings that used it as their gemstone, or slender wands, thick as one's finger, that wizards used to power up their own magic reserves. A crystal that big, if the stories were anything for him to go by, would multiply one's strength to an inconceivable degree.

Like the staff was nothing, Sivath continued. “He was also one of my oldest, closest, friends. And a fool. The second spell you described, the one looking like a portal, was in fact one. It was directed towards here, and the inner spells that were being cast inside it were the necessary ones to ask for my side to actually allow such a portal to be opened in such a protected space like the academy. Like a very complicated knock on a door. Or, to be more exact, like having someone yelling from outside your door something akin to 'Help! Help! Bring as many troops as you can! Demons! Destroyer! Contained!'”

Her gaze fell downwards and her eyes became softer, as she paused for a breath. “But as I said, Senthas was a fool. Yes, if someone is lucky enough to be in the vicinity of a Destroyer gate opening, and he has enough troups to withstand the hundred, or so, gates that open up to protect the main one, he can stop the disaster from happening. But a handfull of barbarians isn't enough to do so. The right course of action, if someone can't stop it from opening, is to get as far as you can. Yes, a few villages will be devoured, a few thousand barbarians would probably have died to the Destroyer's full army, but Senthas' life was much more important than that. I didn't think of him as such a fool.” She sighed

“By the time I gathered a sizable force, by the time I was able to finalize the portal from my side, by the time my own troops joined the frey, only a few barbarians were alive. Senthas had fixed a sealing spell on the main gate, preventing it from opening further for a limited time, but what was left of him by the time we reached him was just an empty husk of a, once great, man. He had overchanneled his mana, his spirit burned out, an empty, dead, body devoid of a soul.”

Her gaze rose again to meet Martyn's grieving eyes.

“In the aftermath, we found you, or to be more exact, I found a familiar, strong, spell around the neck of a boy. A boy with his bones crushed, like a great weight had fallen on top of you, yet miraculously alive.”

Sivath channeled a tiny tendril of mana. As it touched the small stone, mana expanded from inside the stone and it formed dozens of incomprehensible symbols around it. Martyn could only recognise the first one, the symbol his Master used to engrave on the weapons and armors he crafted in their small smithy.

“That is a letter. An encoded message to me, from Senthas, asking me to take you in my academy. To train you. So help me here child. Show me what my old friend's apprentice can do. Show me what one, trained by one of the most powerful mages can do. Show me why my friend thrown his life away for.”

Like a long speech ending, Sivath let out a sigh and looked expectantly towards him.

Martyn was stunned. He felt like there was a great boulder on top of his chest, making it impossible for him to breathe. He could feel his eyes burning, as something watery was trickling out of their corners onto his cheeks. His village, his friends, his Master, everyone was dead, gone. That woman in front of him, nonchalantly just informed him that his life, everything he knew for the past seventeen years, was gone. He didn't want to believe it, he've seen his Master in that last battle performing miracles, he couldn't have simply died. And yet, deep inside him, he couldn't refuse anything she was telling him. Deep inside him, he knew that everything he just heard was true. There was only one thing left for him, to honor the wishes of his Master.

“What would you like for me to show you?”

“Anything really.” She absentmindedly pointed towards the window by the side of the room. “Throw a spell towards there”

Martyn concentrated as he formed a circle with his mana in front of him. Slowly, inside it, the rune depicting fire was formed as he decided to use one of the elements he had a greater affinity with. Around it, in the border of the circle, he willed his mana to start forming the rest of the symbols to enhance his spell. He had chosen a simple spell but one he was already familiar with, he didn't take the woman in front of him for a fool, he knew that she would be able to judge the extend of his capabilities regardless what spell he would have chosen, and so, he had decided to try to appear as favorable as he could.

He could easily see a thick wreath of mana protecting the window and the walls around him, like some sort of warding was cast on the whole building. The shielding spell was so strong that he wasn't worried about destroying the property around him, and so he chose to invest a sizable amount of mana to his spell. After a final inspection of the full spell, he let it fly, and a ray of fire jumped from his stretched hand and struck the glass window straight on, dispensing as it hit the shield, but still, strong enough to dent it. As the spell ended, he saw the shield instantly repairing itself.

“...Are you still recovering?” Sivath asked in disbelief, and as she looked at Martyn's the puzzled expression she continued “That was way too slow. Slower than even a basic apprentice could muster...”

Martyn looked at his still extended aarm, he had feared that this would be her reaction, but he had hoped that it wouldn't be at that degree.

“No... that's my normal speed.”

Sivath was silent as he was inspecting him. Her eyes narrowed as she started to speak.

“You've been here, unconscious and resting, for three weeks. For the last week, your inner mana had been steady. So I know that to be your extend of your power. And it's pitifully low. But your speed as well... to be so low, it doesn't make any sense.”

She took a deep breath as she continued. “Despite what you think of him, Senthas was a cold and calculating man. He never did anything without an ulterior motive. And yet, he picked *you* as an apprentice. He sent *you* here, knowing the level of my students. And all I see is a weakling, someone who I wouldn't spare a second glance if it wasn't a request of an old friend. So prey tell child, in this academy that I prize my students as some of the stronger, the faster, the people would lead armies in the future, why would he sent *you*? A slow, weak, goddamned barbarian? What. Are. You. Hidding from me?” She barked, her eyes flaring up pure white as mana filled the room once again.

Martyn's mind raced. He knew that he shouldn't piss the woman in front of him. He knew the answer to the old woman's question layed somewhere within the oaths he has given to his Master and he wished to honor his wishes to come here. But he also wished to keep most, if not all, of his promises to him. He raised him, he taught him how to wield his magic and the hammer, he had, ultimately, given his life to protect him and his village. He owned him at least that much.

“Forgive me milady.” He said, as meekly as possible, as cold sweat was forming on his forehead “I don't trully know. My Master had told me countless times that I was slow and weak. He used to say to me that it was because 'my mana stream was too thin for my own good'. He was proud of how far I could see though and he often told me that I had a great talent at blacksmithing and enchanting. Maybe this is what you are looking for?”

Martyn couldn't bear to look her in the eye. He knew he had avoided answering completely and he feared she would be able to tell that he was omitting stuff with just a glance. He'd chosen to at lesat honor his first vow, not to reveal that he could rage, to its fullest, and as for how far he could see, he believed that showing a big extend of his capabilities, but not all, would be acceptable to pass as an extraordinary ability. As for the enchanting part, that one was at least true, and not something his Master had asked him to hide, he only wished it was up to par with the beasts of wizards that southerns were known as.

“Show me that then. How far can you 'see'?”

He calmly collected his mind and his thoughts, steeling himself against the emotions that were trying to overrun him, mainly fear and anxiety. “This may take a bit” he announced.

Without raising his eyes to meet hers, Martyn threw his senses on his mana stream once more. Thankfully, Sivath had stopped channeling the torrrent of mana around her. There was an unsettling magic aura right next to her, but he decided to ignore it for the time being. The shield around the window and the wall was tricky, he has never seen a shield so tighly woven, he had to keep splitting his stream to thinner and thinner, sacrificing much of his range for that tiny span of a few meters, but after his stream was thin enough to pierce through the shield, then it was easy to simply expand in the vast openness.

It took him more than ten minutes overall until he decided that he was far enough to flaunt his talent but not fully reveal the extend of his power.

“I can see a bit more than half a mile from up here” He stated as calmly as he could. “We are in a central huge building, more than ten stories high, this room is about 20 meters above ground. There is a great plaza outside with a big round... fountain?... in the middle. The water keeps getting recycled and purified from a spell that's fixed on its center. Just beyond the plaza, around it symmetrically, there are three more buildings, huge as well but not as big as this one. Behind this building, a leaner but much higher tower stands, there are countless warding spells around it, so I don't think it's safe for me to try to look in there. This place is like a huge campus of sorts. I can see more buildings and open spaces all littered around the central complex that is composed of the three large buildings, the tower, and this place we are in right now. There is an open space about a hundred meters from here that a lot of people wearing metal armors are sparring, and next to it a low, two storied building, that looks like barracks. Just a bit further than that, there are vast stables with... a hundred? Two hundred? horses. In the east and the west I can barely touch massive walls that seem to surround the whole complex, but on the south and the north they seem to be further away than where I can see”

Martyn kept expanding his senses as he looked up, eyes shining with his mana, towards Sivath. If he had to escape from here, if he was given the chance to do so, it only made sense to know the complete layout of the place he was. He didn't know a lot about academies, forts, or castles, but from the few things he had picked up from his Master's tales and his elder's teachings about southerner's fortifications, this place looked like it was a mix of all three. He could see places where a lot of mages were gathered, places where soldiers trained, barracks and war stables, a huge smithy, walls and defensive spells locked in place, yet there were also children and mages as young as himself, sitted inside the walls of the three great buildings around him, another stronger mage in the head of the class, exactly like their shaman used to arrange them when he was teaching them in the village. Directly in front of him were two distinct sheaths of mana. A monstrous tangled web, always shifting like a pier where waves of mana kept crushing from within, Sivath, and a second one, so thin that it was almost invisible to his senses as they brushed effortlessly by it, only to be gently redirected around it.

He knew that everytime he had tried to pierce his Master's mana shield, as training, he had known, and so he didn't even try to do the same to the two people in front of him.

“That's as far as I can see” He said, waiting expectantly for a positive answer.

“... I see. That's actually what I was expecting.” Sivath smiled, and it was the first time, Martyn thought, that she was genuinly happy. “You, at least, have a talent worth the time cultivating. Rest here until your body recovers enough to show me your craftsmanship with enchanting. Some people may come here to ask you some questions in the days to come, to judge your general level and to make it easier for me to see what I can do with you.” She paused for a second, as if deliberating about something, before continuing “Don't try to pierce the shield around your room again. I've had it lowered to see what you can do, but it will be up to its normal strength soon.”

As she turned the doorknob to leave, she turned her head one more time towards him. “You did good today. Your master would have been proud of you being able to put up with this old lady. But don't let this one compliment get into your head. You are still a weakling and a barbarian to boot, and, even if I decide to keep you here, you will soon be cursing me. Your days in the wilderness will seem like a trip to the playground compared to your life here.” She smiled, nodded her head towards him, and left.

Martyn could clearly hear the sound of the lock clicking shut as the door closed.

*

Sivath's gaze wandered aimlessly in the corridor, finally resting on the middle aged man that stood in attention just outside the door she had exited. His appearance was just as impeccable as the last time he had come into her office.

Image was as strong a tool as magic in her own experience, and her deputy commander seemed to understand this better than most. The touch of grey in his otherwise perfectly trimmed hair was a natural blessing, granting him a much more sophisticated look than his blant face deserved. His uniform, sparkling brightly white and silver, hid his weak, frail body and emphasised the silver dragon emblem on his chest. His posture, as straight as one can stand without looking unatural, was covering the fact that he was rather short. All helped project the image of an untouchable mage, looking down the world as if he owned it.

“Tisior, let the boy rest for today but put up a knight as a watchman in case he tries anything stupid. If he does, don't kill him, just subdue him. Also, get Arkon to fortify the shield around the room. Tell him to do so without alerting the kid, and to place an enchantment to notify him if the kid tries to pierce the shield. He knows what to do if this happens.”

*

Spend, she let herself crush onto her chair, her shoulders shagging tired.

Losing someone you've known for hundred of years was never easy. Losing him for something she found unworthy only made things worse.

She toyed with the small pebble in her hand. The echo of the strong, spent, protective spell has faded two weeks ago, the only thing that remained was his letter. His last message to her.

“Fuck” She yelled as she lanched the pebble, sending it to crush in her office's wall. “Would it have hurt if the old fool was once clear in his messages?”

“'Train and protect the child, he is special'” She said in a mockering voice. “What the fuck does special entrails you stupid old goat” She continued shouting at the fragments of the stone as they flew slowly back towards her hand, piecing themselves together.

“Ahem” A low, polite cough brought her attention to the man next to her.

Slowly, seemingly out of thin air, a massive man dressed in a tight, black uniform appeared. His whole face was covered by his eyeless mask. Thin, black, metal plates guarded his chest, his legs, and his arms, and two blades, one on each side, completed the attire of a man that would make most common people faint in fear. Sivath glanced over towards her personal confidant and bodyguard.

“Milady, if you may, I could certainly use the boy.”

“You would turn this sorry excuse of a mage into an assassin Douma?”

“Sorry excuse? I beg to differ Milady. There aren't a lot of people in the academy that could pierce the administrative building's shields so quickly. To be able to see for half a mile afterwards... it is simply unheard of from someone not of at least Master wizard rank. Furthermore, the moment he started sensing his surroundings, he almost pierced through my illusion instantly. I had a hard time suppressing a laugh as his eyes kept darting towards me while simultaneously he was trying so hard not to look.”

“Yes, his weaving is surprising thin, but we knew that before the interview even started. That doesn't change the fact that he is weak.”

“ In my... profession, speed is irrelevant. If he can pierce a mansion's shields from half a mile away, and I teach him how to nullify the various protections and how to slip inside a personal shield unnoticed, he could easily kill a lot of annoying pests. You don't need strength to make a heart explode if you can manipulate it directly, and you don't need strength if you can slip through a person's defenses rather than crushing them. And, once again, speed is irrelevant if you have the cover of darkness, the safety of distance, and a whole night of free time to complete your casting.”

“...Our battlefields are indeed vastly different Douma. But Senthas wasn't an assassin. He was the goddamnned best enchanter in the continent. I have trouble picturing him raising an assassin. He dissappeared for nearly sixty years, a lot of people thought him dead already, only to appear in the barbaric lands with an apprentice. There is only one thing he could be doing up there. His old obsession about the barbarian legends.”

“Living steel...”

“Correct. A legend from the old times, an enchanter's wet dream, a fairy tale. Whatever the old goat was trying to achieve with raising that boy, HAS to be linked to those legends.”

“You know Milady, when you asked him why he believe his master sent him here...”

“Yes, I saw. He blatantly lied. A kid, any kid, in his position would have vomited out everything that passed throught his mind the instant I asked him, especially under the pressure of my mana. But he took his time, he collected himself, he gave an awfully polite and thought out response. He hid something.”

“...Do you want me to find out the complete truth?”

“No Douma. I'm going to honor my friend's last request. And I would prefer my students to be in one piece.”

“You're insulting me if you suggest that I would need to use bodily harm as a means to get out anything out of a child. But are you sure you're going to admit him in the academy? He is a barbarian Milady. And we can't even mask that fact seeing as he is the size of a fully trained knight. They are going to eat him alive.”

“True. The kid is slow, weak, he doesn't have a single friend, not a single political contact, and he is a barbarian to boot. The arrogant brats who run rampart in here will force him to play his full hand if he wants to survive. That's a win win for us. He will either die, which will prove that he is worthless or reveal all of his secrets to us.”

“And if he simply quits?”

“...Then he is all yours Douma, to deal as you see fit.”