“The Others were never mortal. They were never ‘alive’. They never experienced pain, loss, love or hope.”

Chapter 62

Wil saw five spells to choose from, each with a lengthy description and a price ranging from a hundred gold coins for a copy of the spell matrix, to three hundred.

He had chosen Conjuration spells for their utility, his offensive evocations were quick, direct damage magic but he needed more options in battle rather than hurling magic and shielding himself from harm.

Conjuration allowed him to be more versatile, whether he was in a group or acting alone. He had learned in Whitewater that he needed choices in combat, to be more flexible with his casting.

Misty Step was a movement spell that allowed the caster to travel up to 30 feet in any direction instantaneously. This would be incredibly useful to escape from a dangerous press of enemies.

Wil had gained a newfound respect for teleportation magic after the charm had saved his life in the dwarven ruins.

Cloud of Daggers created a flight of sharp, metal daggers that swirled around a small area, slashing randomly at anything in range. It would be helpful for Wil if he found himself in a group of enemies, but it was less effective against the undead.

He immediately ruled this spell out. Besides, burning hands would be more effective in Aachen.

Flaming Sphere created a large sphere of flames that the caster could control. He could summon it and direct it into a group of undead. Fire was effective against the common types of undead, and he could use this to destroy large groups of them.

Web created large, sticky webs to cover a large area, restricting the movement of everything in the area. It was handy to hamper movement and bombard the flammable webs with fire. He could imagine a few different scenarios where it would be effective.

Dust Devil was the last spell available, which created a small, localized windstorm that could carry smaller creatures away, or hurl larger enemies off their feet.

Thinking over his options, Wil noticed that Misty Step was only available to Guild Members. A quick check with John confirmed that they would be willing to sell it to him as he was an initiate of the Academy.

He wavered between the offensive Flaming Sphere and the very adaptable Web, before choosing the latter. He needed a way to control large crowds of undead, to stop them from chasing him in a pinch.

“John.” Wil called, getting the workers attention. “I’ll take Misty Step and Web for now.” He said, pointing at the book.

“Alright, just a moment.” John confirmed, before walking towards a wall of scrolls behind a counter. On the second row he pulled out two blue, conjuration school scrolls, before walking back to Wil.

“Here you are.” John said, handing the scrolls to Wil. “Misty Step will be three hundred gold coins, and Web will be two hundred.”

With a wince, Wil handed over the bulging pouch of coins from his satchel, nearly everything he had.

With an appreciative nod to John, Wil left the Spire, carrying his new spells in his hand. He would need to head back to his lodgings and spend the next few hours copying the scrolls to his spell book. The process would allow him to memorize the matrices at the same time.

Generally, spells purchased from the Guild were non-transferable, meaning he wouldn’t be able to sell them to another mage and recoup his costs.

Anyone caught by a Guild Member selling spells would be banned, or worse, arrested. The Mage Guild took the reselling of arcane knowledge seriously.

When Wil had been in the Academy, a poorer student had been caught selling Tier-less spells without permission. He had been desperate to make tuition, and even minor spells could be sold for a few dozen coins each.

Amateur mages with no connections to the academy or the mage guild were desperate for any spells they could find, since the guild restricted access to magic. The adventurer’s guild had some to offer, but they were expensive and had limited options.

Even the minor cantrips that he was peddling had meant he was barred from the academy and could never access the resources and spells needed to advance in the ranks.

The scrolls were also fragile, barely able to contain the Mana used to draw a spell matrix. Once he opened a scroll to transcribe it, he would have to be quick with copying it to his spell book. Only his spell book could adequately hold the Tier 2 matrix, most common materials would degrade rapidly from the Mana.

It was why spell books were invaluable. The higher tier spells needed rare materials to contain them. Some Magus’ spell books were worth as much as the Brookmoor family manor, not from the knowledge contained within it, but the materials the book were made of.

Returning to his room, Wil spent the remaining hours until his meeting with the legion representative copying the spell patterns into his book. It was arduous and painstaking work. Rather than using an ink and quill, each line had to be drawn with his own Mana.

It was exhausting, and a true test of a mage’s skill. Memorization was only a minor part of spellcasting; the true test was the exacting control copying and creating spell matrices used.

After hours hunched over his spell book in his room, he finally drew the last line of ‘Web’, before collapsing backwards on his chair in exhaustion. The scroll containing the spell flared briefly, before crumbling to dust as the matrix burned itself out.

He had copied and memorized both of his new magic spells, and he was eager to try them out. He would have time tomorrow to practice, before the sun set in the evening. He would do it in the morning, allowing him time to recover before he had to attend to his auxiliary duties.

Standing, Wil stretched and replaced his precious spell book in his satchel, before slinging it across his shoulders. Belting on his sword, he went downstairs to meet with the legion representative.

The common room was busy, filled with dozens of new arrivals in a similar situation as Wil. He had found out earlier today that most of the new arrivals were placed together in the same lodgings, allowing the legion to better keep track of them.

Wil found an empty seat in the room, looking around briefly at his fellow Auxiliaries. They ranged from swordmen, clerics, rogues and mages. A wide variety of specializations from all over the empire.

They came here for the same reason as him, for the experience of fighting the undead and the large amount of money the merchants were offering.

Wil didn’t wait long before a heavily armored man walked through the door, wearing a sleeveless tabard with the legion eagle on the front. The man was tall, nearly seven feet, and everyone could feel the intimidating presence of his rank 5 Mana emanating from him.

He strode to the front of the room as everyone went quiet, nervously waiting for him to speak.

“Alright! Listen Up!” The man’s voice boomed through the silent room as he needlessly shouted.

“My name’s Garman. I’m your gods damned legion contact here in Aachen. I’ll be giving you the rundown on what we expect from you milk drinking crybabies.” Wil could see people shifting uncomfortably at the insults.

“Each of you are here to follow my orders, and if I hear any complaints, I’ll toss you from that flaming wall myself. Is that clear?!” He yelled, looking around the room. He was greeted by a sea of nodding heads.

No one willing to be the target of Garman’s ire. Not with his Rank 5 Mana filling the room, pressing down on them like a weight.

“Good. Now, your job tomorrow Night is to escort a group of blasted clerics while they pray to their saggy chested goddess. They need to renew the bloody Mana powering the wall every Night.” Again, people shifted at the insult to Secundus, but no one stood up to Garman.

“You bunch of slack wits are going to guard them for the whole time, a flaming week on the wall.” He paused, and his Mana exploded out from him with all his might. It stirred the air in the room with a gust of pure power.

“And if one hair on their pretty little heads gets touched, every single bloody one of you will get a close look at the city. A flaming close look, when my boot launches your hairy asses off the wall. You mark my bloody words. Is that clear?!” He shouted and was greeted by nodding heads and stunned silence.

“I want each of you to report to the top of the wall tomorrow morning, bright and early. God’s Blasted Bones, I’ll have to pound my orders into your empty skulls before you slack wits understand. We’ll have all day to go over it. Even a bunch of inbred idiots like you should get it when I’m finished with you.”

“I’ll see you all tomorrow… have a bloody pleasant evening.” Garman said, clearly sarcastic.

He gave them all final glare, before leaving the stunned crowd.

Wil let out the breath he had been holding since the man started yelling. Garman was, without a doubt, the most intimating person he had ever met. He was not looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

The crowd started to murmur, then shouts erupted at the display they just witnessed.

Wil got up from the table, heading back to his room. It looks like they would be staying on the walls for the whole night, guarding a group of clerics as they recharged the divine runes.

If that was the case, he wondered why the legion needed dozens of auxiliaries to watch over them. He thought the walls were safe, the threat was on the ground of Aachen. The runes ensured they couldn’t even approach the grey stones.

The auxiliaries around him in the common room were all Rank 2 or Rank 3, more than enough to safeguard the work.

Was this another situation where he was being sent into a position with not enough information?

Wil would have to be prepared for anything when night fell.