This place sucks.
Seiren stared up at the wall of the fortress from the bottom of the steps. Non-Acrise-based personnel were not permitted beyond this spot up onto the edge of the walls that overlooked Hanna. They didn't want to compromise security or risk unwarranted communication with the enemy, they said.
Despite Tylene accompanying her every step of the way, even to the bathroom, Seiren felt she was being watched. Tall, impenetrable walls in all four directions, ominous shadows lurking at every corner watching her every move. And yet the citizens of Acrise moved about their daily tasks, unperturbed by the surveillance, lugging heavy building material and equipment everywhere. Preparation to survive winter apparently continued well into winter itself.
Seiren shivered and wrapped her cloak and scarf around herself tighter. The world was covered by an eternal drizzle and the ground threatened to slide away from her feet with every step. The air was damp, eating into the wood and gnawing at the metal structures. Puffs of her breath rose into the air against the unforgiving backdrop.
"Don't hesitate to call by. I'll make more time for you next time. I'm sorry it's been quite slap-dash from my end. Keep practising your stuff and next time I'd love to see how much you've improved."
Loren would never see how much Seiren had improved, now. And Seiren would never have another chaos magic lesson. She held a fist to the middle of her chest. It felt so hollow underneath.
"Come on, Mage Nithercott. We don't want to be late for the briefing."
She wrenched her eyes off the black lookout tower, so high up she couldn't even see the outlines of the soldiers posted there. Tylene waited with expectation. About twenty steps ahead, Rowan and Dent stood without a word. Rowan hadn't said anything to her since they'd arrived in Acrise.
The briefing. Tylene had mentioned something after Seiren and Rowan had registered their runes as present in Acrise. She hadn't taken much notice. It was hard to focus on anything else.
There were maybe eight other mages in the meeting room when Seiren and Rowan entered. Tylene and Dent waited outside with the other military personnel. Seiren cast a disinterested glance at the other faces and did not recognise any of them beyond what she'd seen in the registry.
Rowan sat down in the far corner. Seiren lowered herself into the chair beside him. A newcomer sat down beside her. She turned, shuffling her chair to maintain personal space, and froze.
The newcomer reclined in his chair, resting his ankle on his other knee with leisure. He wore the same wide-brimmed black hat as the last time Seiren had seen him. Meeting her wide eyes with his own dark ones, Tahir Portendorfer's lips parted in a sinister grin beneath a bushy moustache.
"Fancy seeing you here, Seiren Nithercott," he said in a mild voice.
Rowan showed no signs that he'd seen his former tutor. Seiren's mouth opened and shut without a sound. Portendorfer doffed his hat at her with a hand clad in a white glove. Madeleine shuddered.
The summons was for Iwade and northwards. Sarre isn't that north. He shouldn't be here.
"If you're wondering why I'm here, it's because it'll be a shame to miss some action."
"Action?"
"Don't you know? We're on the brink of war, here. That's what 'winter support' means, my sweet." His smile broadened, his teeth pearly white against his dark brown skin. "Our presence here is quite fortuitous, indeed."
Don't... don't say anything. Just ignore him, Seiren. Madeleine's voice trembled with fear. Seiren swallowed and smiled politely in return, a muscle in her cheek twitching. A tenth person entered the room, a slim black-haired woman, and then a broad-shouldered man in military uniform came in and shut the double doors. A hush settled.
"Thank you for arriving so promptly, mages," he said in a commanding but hoarse voice. His presence seemed to fill the entire room. He had a shorn head and a vicious old scar that ran from under his left eye to his jawline. Placing both hands on the polished wooden table in the middle, he leant forward, fixing a steely glance on each and every one of them. Seiren fought back the urge to fidget under the intense look. "My name is Brigadier General Morvin Grader. I am in charge of the protection of Acrise. I'm grateful to recognise a few returning faces."
He nodded at someone to Seiren's right; they nodded back.
"We have reached the time of the year again when Hannan forces are threatening our borders. Winter swings in their favour. With the Hannan king being near death, it seems more of his tyrant commanders are using the chance to push through."
Seiren's heart palpitated. War. It was only ever a hushed word filtering through people's whispers when she studied back in Patrixbourne. Nothing ever came of it; now she saw why. Because every winter when the walls became weak from the elements, the mages stepped in to aid Acrise.
"However, King Pollin has a specific order this year." Grader's jaw tightened. "In recent weeks, we have had increasingly frequent demon summonings and hordes attempting to storm the northern gates. Our supplies have been depleted more rapidly than previous years. He requests those with rapid-power magic be stationed along with the soldiers in the event we are breached."
"He wants us to be involved in battles so early?" said someone to Seiren's right. She sat forward to see. It was a young mage about Rowan's age with spiky brown hair and a heart-shaped face.
"Yes. I understand this is unusual, but desperate times call for desperate measures. We know mages are valuable and we can't afford to lose anyone, but if the occasion rises..."
"We'll do it," said Portendorfer to Seiren's left. Her stomach did a somersault. "Just tell us when."
Monster, whispered Madeleine. He wants bloodshed.
Grader nodded, appreciative. "Rapid-fire mages will be assigned a patrolling group. They need not patrol with the men, but they need to be within range of fire if there were to be a breach. Rune mages will assist with reinforcing the city's structures and securing resources to survive this winter."
Seiren's eyes leapt to Rowan. Rapid-fire mages -- she assumed that meant those who can participate in combat relatively quickly: flash or burst mages.
Not you.
My runes can fire pretty rapidly, thank you very much.
In the midst of battle? You think the enemy will just pause and wait for you to sketch a rune then activate it?
Seiren bit her lip. Rowan appeared oblivious to her anxiety. In fact, he appeared oblivious to what the Brigadier General was saying at all as he ran through the emergency protocols, floor plans, and escalation plans. Rowan's blue-green eyes were spaced out, staring at a spot just beyond the middle of the table.
"Rowan?" Seiren said in a low voice when the Brigadier General had finished talking. Mages filed out of the room. "Hey--"
"If you're going to mope like some wet sack, you'd better do it in the safety of your precious Benover office. You won't survive in Acrise."
Seiren jumped at the harsh tone from across the table. A woman, looking about Seiren's age, stood with her arms crossed, an unimpressed look on her round face. Her eyebrows knitted together in a most familiar way, as was the shade of her blue-green eyes, although they were devoid of any warmth or compassion. It was the slim, black-haired mage who had slipped in just before Grader had given them the debriefing.
Rowan's eyes lifted and stared at her. She snorted and tossed her glossy black hair.
"Pathetic," she spat, before leaving the room and slamming the door.
"Not the family reunion you were expecting, eh, Woodbead?" said Portendorfer in a snide voice. Seiren's fists curled.
"Leave him alone."
He chuckled at her bristling tone.
"You probably don't know this, but we're all a family here, Seiren Nithercott. Maura Woodbead there was my tutee before she qualified ten years ago."
"...Woodbead?"
"That was dear Rowan Woodbead's big sister, sweet cheeks." He stood up and doffed his hat at her, sending a shiver down her spine. "Well, I must attend to my duties. My offer still stands. Take my word: you'll be begging for practice soon."
Seiren couldn't shake the unease Tahir Portendorfer brought every time they interacted. She luckily didn't bump into Maura Woodbead again, but she avoided interacting with any mages that came her way. She didn't want to know how extensive the magical family was.
Magic is a small world. You shouldn't be surprised.
I hate how it's all about connections. Success should be based solely on prowess, not that your aunt's ass sits on the Council of Mages.
Why -- because you've managed to burn every bridge you've made? Oh wait, you never made any in the first place, Madeleine teased.
Thanks. Truly.
Human beings depend on connections, Seiren. Try it some time. You'll regret not doing it one day.
Squaring her shoulders, Seiren adjusted the fur-lined cloak that was issued at the debriefing. Her fur boots crunched on the icy gravel. Although the sun was up, none of its heat or light seemed to penetrate the arctic gloom that was Acrise.
It was part of her duties as a future state mage to ensure the safety of the people of Karma. It worked out even better that the threat was Hanna. It was what she'd always wanted.
But somehow, in the previous few months, the desire for vengeance against Hanna had diminished. It left a peculiar feeling in her chest. Her family was destroyed by a Hannan. Hannans brought nothing but chaos and destruction and she'd witnessed that first-hand. Losing that desire was the same as accepting her family's demise. It meant she forgave that bastard Hannan. And she would never do that.
She joined the group of workers near the base of the great wall where another mage, clad in a rainbow-lined cloak, stood with her arms crossed.
"A rune mage, huh? About time. We need to secure the northern walls. I hope you're up to date with your orange and violet runes or you'll just be excess baggage."
Seiren's stomach dropped on hearing the dismissive voice as she met the unforgiving blue-green eyes of Maura Woodbead.
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