"Yes, Sir. Company, attention!"
The Commander Adept turned to leave, stepping quickly over to the aged headmaster and offering his arm in assistance. Aetria waited until they passed through the door of the weapons training hall before addressing the company.
"Company, stand easy for now. Tomorrow your military training begins in earnest and must be complete by the time we reach the regiment. Here are your assignments for tonight. All officers will proceed to the main hall and use the central Power source to get fully energized before retiring. You will be turning in your training sources along with your student apparel. You should each have an issue of gray novice robes awaiting you in your rooms."
The change she observed in her recruits was phenomenal. They were actually listening to her. “Provisioners, before going to the main hall, check with Adept Pleates’ provisioner to ensure all is ready for the march out. Assist in any way possible.
"Healers, Adept Pleates has submitted a list of herbal medicines and needed potions to the Healing Mentor Mage. Since he has not brought a Healer with him, I am commissioning Novice Verdilan to take charge of the novice Healers and ensure that list is filled.
"Illusionists, think creative thoughts and stay out of trouble. Aggressors, take care to get a full night's rest and no nightmares. Being fully charged, the spells you throw will be deadly, so I don't want any novices killed in the night. Any question?” Her attempt at humor worked for all but the Aggressors who looked chagrined she should think such a thing possible. A whispered, “She should talk,” drifted past her ears. She ignored it.
"One last thing. I am no longer a teacher, a sister, or a roommate. I am your superior officer. When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed instantly. Do you understand?"
The bobbing of heads and a few yeas brought a rigor to her spine and a firm, loud response of her own. “The proper reply is ‘Yes, Ma'am.’ Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
"All at once, and louder!"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
* * * *
Kelristo looked at Pleates, as they stood just outside the door of the Weapons Training Hall, where the Commander Adept had halted them moments before. “I assure you, Adept Pleates, that Magess Trelana has fully certified Sorceress Aetria for continued duties in the Corps. She has shown no ill effects from her grid burnout four years ago. She is a very gifted Illusionist and a very powerful one also. You look like you still have doubts."
Pleates shook his head as the chorus of responses from the Company reached his ears. “Perhaps not, Mage Kelristo, perhaps not. Before her incident, Aetria was my most promising officer. I was afraid she might have lost her interest in the army after her return here. I think her interest is now awaking again. But rest assured, I will be watching her."
* * * *
The cool dawn air brought the smell of blossoming flowers into Aetria's room, and she paused to draw a deep breath. Spring was her favorite season at Inhestia, and she would miss the sweet, fragrant mountain air, so unlike the heavy, moist air of the plains upon which the armies presently fought. She finished folding her student's robe and laid it down on the corner of the bed, where a first year student would collect it for cleaning in a few hours. She removed her dark red Sorceress rank sash from its peg on the wall, and as she walked over to her small storage trunk to put it away, the tears began again. She let herself collapse down onto the trunk and felt the hot droplets stream down her face.
Now why am I crying? I had all of last night to get this out of my system. I am not a failure! I just have to prove I have control of myself one more time.
The soft knock at her door startled her and she hastily wiped her eyes with the sash, shoving it quickly into the trunk. “Enter."
Felora gently opened the door and stuck her head in. “Magess Trelana wants to see you right away, Aetria."
Aetria waved her fellow instructor away with a stifled groan. She did not want to visit her mentor with reddened eyes and anger, or maybe it was sadness, in her heart. Felora retreated from sight. Aetria picked up her new dark red uniform robe of a Sorceress and donned it quickly. She ran her fingers through her newly cropped hair, and without looking at the mirror on the wall, walked quickly out of the student women's quarters to the house of Magess Trelana.
* * * *
Trelana stood looking out her study window, watching for the arrival of her senior student. She spotted Aetria immediately when she left the students’ quarters, her red uniform robe standing out from the other students as they moved upon the commons. Aetria had taken on the persona of a military officer, and she was now unconsciously marching instead of walking with her normal, pensive stroll. The set look in her face hinted at emotions the young woman was trying to hold at bay. Trelana's student page immediately answered Aetria's knock at the front door and left the two women alone.
"How striking you are in uniform, Aetria. And so very proud. So proud you were going to leave without one last good-bye?"
"No, Mentor, I was putting off our last farewell, not avoiding it. I didn't want to leave with my eyes as red as my robe, but I can't seem to stop the tears."
Trelana folded her oldest student into her arms and silently held her as the younger woman's tears flowed again. She spoke no words of comfort; words were not what Aetria needed now. The Magess knew Aetria had spent the night characteristically pacing her room, arguing with herself. She had heard all the words she could stand. Only time and confidence would heal the mental wounds Aetria had foolishly inflicted upon herself when Trelana had told her she was not ready for candidacy to Adept. Aetria insisted she had failed her mentor and was unworthy. Trelana had tried to convince her that returning to the army would increase her experience, build confidence, and restore her reputation. To no avail.
"Pleates told the Mage Council that the war was going to end very soon. General Mythrian was getting ready to execute his latest campaign, and Pleates had complete confidence he would succeed. You will be returning at a most exciting time, Little One!"
"Returning to what, Mentor? Do you really believe the army is going to entrust me with any duties beyond the most mundane?"
Trelana gently pushed Aetria away to arm's length so she could look into the young woman's eyes. “I have certified to the Mage Council that you are fully qualified to do Sorceress level work. I also made the case that, until you are subjected to the same pressures that caused your loss of control, we will never know if you are fully recovered. You know I have tested you far beyond what is normal for a Sorceress and I have not been able to break your control once."
"I'll grant you that, Magess Trelana. You've certainly put me under a lot of pressure,” she said with a wry smile.
"It was for your own good that I did. You know the stigma that suffering a grid burnout puts on the victim. For those who don't die from it, it may cause insanity. That is why you have been so carefully monitored to see if you exhibit the least change in your spell-casting abilities. The Sorcerer War taught us the bitter lesson that, left unabated, sorcerers who break the bounds of their abilities by practicing wild magic will cause great suffering and pain.
"The Council's main reason for existence is to guarantee to the world that our sorcerers stay within the bounds of their training. Know that Adept Pleates will be watching and reporting your progress. He has assured me of that. I am not sure if his reason for doing so is more to find a way of embarrassing me before the Council than it is the efficient operation of his command."
"The commander's delight in causing me unhappiness is not something he would do for duty. He is ruthless when it comes to executing a plan, counting no one's cost except his own."
Trelana let Aetria go and walked to the study's window, looking out but not seeing anything, debating telling Aetria what she had learned last night. Since Aetria was the sub-commander, if only for the journey back to the encamped army, she had the right to know.
"Adept Pleates pressured Headmaster Kelristo into letting him recruit
more Aggressor Novices. He has coerced three more into joining the company. I fear they did not volunteer, although they said they did. You are going to find members of your recruit company less willing to be soldiers than you had thought."
Aetria did not appear to be shocked at what Trelana had told her. “Then the pressure begins immediately, Mentor. Willing or not, once they face the enemy, they will fight or die. I will miss you, Trelana. May the Power keep you well until we meet again."
Trelana gave her favorite student one last, long hug, and then let her go. “May the Power return you to me very soon, my Aetria, alive and whole."
* * * *
Aetria left Trelana's cottage feeling a lot better than when she had arrived. She had dreaded the final farewell only so much as it represented a turning point past which she was committed to this new path in her life. Now that this journey had begun, her internal drive was in place to move her past her fears of the uncertain future.
The morning sun had burned the chill of the night away, and its warmth penetrated her body, providing a lift to her spirits. As she retraced her path to her room, the lodge's students were making their way towards the main hall where the morning meal awaited them with smells of honeyed bread. Aetria did not feel hungry; her energy was focused towards departing. As the company was scheduled to leave after the morning meal, she hurried her pace to reach her room and pick up her campaign kit.
She deliberately forced herself not to make one last check of the room; she had checked it too many times the night before—each time interrupted by memories of her past four years living here. She felt a little foolish whispering goodbye as she closed the door, but that act cleared away any returning heartache. With purposeful stride, she set out for the lodge's main entrance.
Pleates’ escort had set up his encampment outside the walls of the lodge. The tents that had been erected were now broken down and stowed in their transporting wagons. The Novice Provisioners had taken to heart their new duties in the army, and under the supervision of Pleates’ Provisioner, Sorcerer Meloses, were finishing up the last minute details as she approached the caravan. She noticed a work party of Sorcerer Guards carrying bundles of what looked like spears to the back of the command wagon. Crusher stood outside directing their storage.
Curious, she thought.
She walked to the vanguard of the column. The mounts belonging to the Sorcerer Guards, Crusher, and herself were tethered at a picket line. Two transport wagons led the caravan, and each Novice's personal baggage was loaded onto four carts that would follow. The requested healer's supplies and provisions for the march occupied five more carts. Crusher's command wagon brought the total of wheeled vehicles to twelve.
Aetria shook her head in wonder, knowing that a full company of one hundred infantry soldiers traveled with half that number. An equivalent squadron of cavalry used even less. Only the engineers and sorcerers somehow managed to carry more baggage than the real fighting corps. It was no wonder the common soldiers sneered in disdain at their own support troops.
Aetria secured the one extra bag she allowed herself in a baggage cart and tied her saddlebags onto her horse. She stood for a moment stroking and talking with the horse, an idea forming in her mind. She looked up and scanned all of the sky she could see.
Not a cloud in sight, a warm spring sun above, just the perfect weather for a stroll. Best take advantage of the clear weather; spring showers will soon be upon us.
She made a decision, untied her horse, led her to the rear of the first transport and secured her in trail. Having accomplished that, she set out to find Crusher.
She found the commander eating in his covered wagon. His curt wave of a hand to enter was as warm a greeting as she had learned to expect from him. She began to brief him on her plans for training the company, but he cut her off before she had gotten very far.
"Sorceress Aetria, I don't care how you plan to accomplish the task, I am only interested in results. If I come to believe you will fail, then I will relieve you and do it myself. I warn you that I have provided for more interesting endeavors to occupy my time, and I will not take being distracted from them lightly. The only interference you can expect from me is my intention to use the Aggressor Novices in my latest project. This will take up their evenings, and they will not be available for any other duties."
"That will create an air of favoritism in the command and hurt morale, Sir."
An angry frown flashed onto Crusher's face, and he slammed his eating utensils down sharply on the table. Aetria had already braced herself for the expected tongue lashing, and was quite surprised when he sat back in his chair, rubbing his face for a moment before answering,
"I have no objections to you using them for normal camp duties, including guard detail. I want them free from the end of the evening meal until final formation. I, of course, don't want the morale of my sorcerers to be anything but high. One last thing, Aetria. I will have daily riders coming from the regiment and Inhestia. Alert your sentries to their expected arrival and departure. I do not want them delayed in any way. You will see to that."
"Yes, Sir."
"And Sub-commander, I will ride in my command wagon during the day. Have my horse tethered behind."
"Yes, Sir. Anything else, Sir?"
Crusher waved a hand in dismissal. Aetria turned and exited the command wagon via the short flight of steps at the back. A small and unexpected victory, but a victory all the same. The Novices would learn soon enough that, in Crusher's regiment, the Aggressors had always enjoyed the better of any situation. And Crusher was surely going to remind her. He would justify it by saying the Aggressor sorcerers paid a high price for their privileges. The fact that their lives were shorter due to the way he used them was not one she would ever point out to him. Others had tried, and they no longer had any influence in the regiment.
The Novices had gathered near the transport wagons, having said their last good-byes to friends and teachers among those of Inhestia who had gathered to see them off. When they saw Aetria coming out the back of the command wagon, the Novices arranged themselves in the formation they had been in the previous evening and stood at attention. Aetria ordered the Sorcerer Guards to mount and assume their escort positions. While they were doing this, she ordered the wagon drivers into their seats. Finally, she marched to the front of the company and addressed them.
"We will begin our journey on foot. When you have learned to route march properly, then we will see about riding in wagons. Company, left turn. March."
* * * *
The sun was settling on the horizon as Aetria watched, through the door flap of her tent, the company assembling for the last formation of the day. The fledgling officers looked completely worn out with the ten-mile hike she had just put them through. Aetria herself was exhausted, but she swallowed the last sip of wine from her dinner cup and got wearily to her feet. After a deep cleansing breath, she squared her shoulders and walked purposefully out of her tent to the awaiting officers.
"Good evening, Novices!"
"Good evening, Ma'am."
"Starting tonight, you will participate in the traditional ritual of the evening light salute. This tradition started six years ago when sorcerers first joined the army. It was noted then that not everyone was ensuring they had energized their grids prior to turning in, as ordered. The practice of trading time before the Power source for sleep is not new. Everyone hold out their right hand.” Aetria demonstrated by raising hers. “Now produce a candle size flame above your palm."
Since every sorcerer knew the spell, teaching it to the Novices was not necessary. Predictably the Aggressors’ flames were torch size, all but blinding in the growing darkness. “I said, for those hard of hearing, a candle flame!"
Smugly, the Aggressors damped down their lights to the proper size. “Now, without increasing the size of the flame, make it more intense."
A few grew slightly. The Aggressors looked frustrated. “At the conclusion of each and every eve
ning's Power meditation, all junior sorcerers are required to seek out their superior and present their light. There is purpose to this ritual. Despite the fact that presenting a light is a very simple spell, the intensity of the flame is directly related to your personal energy level and your training."
Aetria intensified her light, which flared out like a tiny star in her hand. The gasps from the Novices were satisfying, as was the shielding of their eyes from the glare. She dampened her light. “As some of you can't see, the return of the salute by a superior is usually given at the lowest level. Your light, until you reach such a status, is to be at full strength. This tells your superior without words that you are both energized as expected, and doing the meditations necessary to increase the strength of your grids."
Novice Recanlin blurted out, “That is not allowed! Only Initiates to higher training are taught those meditations."
Aetria smiled at his confusion. “At Inhestia, your statement would be correct, Novice. But this is the army. The Council has allowed the army to stretch some of the rules. One of the benefits of putting your life in danger is that we teach you skills useful in keeping yourself alive. It is in our best interest that sorcerers strive to increase the strength of their spells as quickly as possible. Tomorrow I will begin to teach you those skills."
Aetria could feel the excitement her words generated amidst the young officers, tired as they were. She remembered so well the thrill of the prospect of gaining forbidden knowledge, without the drudgery of formal training.
Holendal, one of the Provisioner Novices, called out, “A question for the Sub-commander!"
"Yes, Novice Holendal."
"I am very glad to be able to increase my grid strength, but why can't we stay under constant Power charge, like we did as students?"
"A fair question, but one that shows you are not yet thinking in terms of military strategy, as I have been endeavoring to teach you all during our stroll today. As a student, you wore an exposed source all the time. That relatively weak source was given to you for two reasons; it provided you with a continuous energy source for you to keep your magic grids energized, and it made it easy for instructors and mentors to keep track of your presence.” Aetria looked at her students.
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