We went into the city, arranged as a procession. Anna walked in front, Mewi and I right behind her on her right and left respectively. Bruzigan and Ri’legh went before us, glaring at people menacingly to clear the way, though giving no such treatment to anyone in Rhuunan mage vestments. Arvallei circled overhead, scanning for threats even more effectively than the other two “bodyguards.”

And given that before enacting this scene, Anna, Mewi and I had quickly donned robes that we’d prearranged in Area 1 for exactly this contingency, we fit right in as a high-class Rhuun cleric and her retinue entering the city, if a rather unusual one.

From there, Anna proceeded to dispel my confusion as to how “Aristocrat” counted as a profession. The next three days were a whirlwind of activity. Bruzigan had explained that both the Aristocrat and its counterpart profession, the Spymaster, well, technically you didn’t NEED a profession to accomplish the things she was, but it was an incredible aid to it. Within the first half of the first day, she got us practically a Who’s Who of the entire royal—or in Rhuun’s case “Magisterial” city, and for the rest of the time, she gleaned all kinds of information from various high-society mages on the relative strong and weak points of Rhuun’s troop dispositions, among many other things.

Mewi was also a veritable social butterfly, but his job was more to endear himself as “a member of Anna’s retinue” than to get people to let information slip. Bruzigan, Ri’legh, and Arvallei had split from us to work other angles, which left me with the least to do—for a short time, anyway.

By the third day, she had gotten us an audience with one of Rhuun’s generals, with the aim of negotiating command positions for us. The audience would take place at the general’s estate, and the entire team was expected to attend.

They weren’t picked at random, either. Given that we weren’t all mages on the team, by default we’d be marked as progressive leaners by Rhuun’s political landscape, so Anna’s act as an Honored Healer played to that expectation. At the top of her priority list in information gathering and connection making was to identify high-ranking military members with similarly progressive, and thus flexible in terms of fielding non-mage combatants, views.

A servant led us to the manor’s parlor where they waited. His eyes lit up when we entered. I tamped down a reflexive raise of my eyebrows. “Darling Anna,” he said, “Thank you for brightening my halls.”

“Flatterer,” said Anna, in a tone of voice I’d never heard the like from her before, not even in rehearsals. It was genuinely coy. If I didn’t know any better, it almost seemed...coquettish? “Such words, when you well know it is I who owes you gratitude, for being so readily willing to hear out my little experiment, General Ormin.”

“Not at all,” said Ormin with a casual wave of his hand, “it was a great pleasure yesterday to make the acquaintance of a young, talented lady with the rare ability to have her good sense outweigh her sense of tradition.

For the sake of Rhuun’s future, no matter how close or distant, she needs people like you. People like us. For all written history the three nations have insisted on fighting every war exactly like the last. In essence, no matter how long or short our periods of peace, we have been locked in a single protracted struggle for all our existence.

Talents come and go. Those who attain incredible personal strength still, sooner or later, succumb to the ravages of time and age. Only our knowledge carries from one cycle to the next. There, Rhuun is doomed to failure in the end—again, however close or distantly that end may be from now. Magic has no true limitations, but we are simply too limited in our ability to understand it, to be able to advance it.

Meanwhile, Shirisho continues to find ways to improve their people’s strength and physical abilities quicker, more reliably, and to greater heights. Trioron’s emphasis on science and technological advancement has lent them similar steady improvement. For a time, we kept up with them apace, but from what I’ve been seeing, we are beginning to flag.”

“Oh, I’ve forgotten my manners. Do come have a seat, and your companions as well. Your bodyguards may stand—there are some usual measures of etiquette that should still be observed, though so many underestimate such people’s potential contributions to Rhuun.”

Anna sat, followed by myself. Mewi shrugged and followed suit. “Now, your protégé in matters of strategy Mewiabu I am already familiar with, but I don’t believe I have made the acquaintance of your other companion?”

Anna signaled to me to go ahead and speak. “Sadly, I am not as socially graceful as them, so I tend to hold myself back in high society. My name is Lheticus; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Very much likewise, I assure you. And if I may be somewhat bold, how did you come to be in the ladyship’s service?”

“Mewi and I were very close friends from an early age,” I said with practiced ease, “we studied together practically all our lives. He helped me with magic theory on many occasions, and in turn I nudged him to improve his combat skills.”

Anna nodded. “Lheticus’ fire magic is some of the most potent seen in Rhuun in, I would think, centuries. He’s that rare sort who’s like an army all by himself. He and Mewi, as he prefers to be called, are basically inseparable. He turned down many other apprenticeship offers, even an invitation to try out for the Magisterial Guard, because they all wanted him alone.

Eventually, I happened to get an inkling of Mewi’s strategic talent. Lheticus practically fawned over me when I told him it was them I was interested in. Saying things like he was so grateful to finally meet someone else who saw Mewi’s value. He worked his way up to become the strongest of my household, magically speaking, as well as a passable commander himself.”

Anna gave a wry grin. “The rare problem Mewi or I find ourselves unable to solve with words, he tends to make go up in flames.”

The story wasn’t a lie, not exactly. Well okay, it was a fabrication, but if the six of us really had been born citizens of Rhuun and come together like this, it was an extremely plausible way that it could have happened, given our characters.

Well okay, it was a total lie. We’d actually come up with two cover stories. One to use in situations like this, made for maximum plausibility, and a ‘hidden truth’ version that we’d break out if and when Mewi was pressed into using Wind and/or Space element. So we were in fact lying to conceal an even deeper lie. But the point was, in another lifetime, the story or one very much like it certainly could have been true.

Mewi hadn’t taken naturally to this kind of deception. It got to the point that since I was getting it much more easily, Anna told Bruzigan that I should sit in on her training sessions of it with him. It took substantial coaxing, but eventually we got through to him by emphasizing that he should look at it like roleplay or acting. It still wasn’t that easy for him to “stay in character” for extended periods, but he was managing well so far.

From there, Anna outlined what we wanted, framing it as an “experiment” that could give Rhuun the edge in the war. When she finished, Ormin looked thoughtful.

“Yes, my forces added to what you’re planning, the composition could be about right...and I have relatively few misgivings about having the three of you provide tactical advisement. But before I say yes, there is one thing. A curiosity I’d like to indulge.

Milady has talked up your strength and skill in combat, Lheticus. And well, I am not what you’d call an armchair general. In fact, I am quite proud of my own prowess with the fire element, so the existence of a talent such as yourself that I’ve not heard of before intrigues me.

And normally in battle, there is little to no risk to myself—as is right and proper Rhuun doctrine of engagement. So opportunities for a serious fight where I can really test myself are few and far between.

Tell me, do you believe you can give me one?”