Chapter 006:

Anton found the training area to be quite relaxing. Several meters away lay the crater that he left when he first experimented. It was a good reminder to always be careful when dealing with something so deadly.

He looked towards the sun. In this world, the sun rose in the west and set in the east. That was slightly jarring for Anton when he was trying to get his bearings but, like everything here, he got used to it very quickly.

He sat down in the centre of the dirt patch and stopped to think.

I think I've got the prayer power down pat, not that there has been much in the way of instructions given by those gods. I wonder if there are any books in that stack? Anyway, lightning I'm pretty confident with; very fast and powerful, but unstable and difficult to control. It's about time I tried out the fire glyph properly. It felt so slow compared to the lightning. But it felt like that it would go on for hours, constantly burning. I wonder what shape I should use?

But nothing came to mind that seemed sensible. His thoughts continued to circle pointlessly.

A whip? Probably burn people around me as I try to swing it. A sword? Well, why not just use a ball again.

Looks like that'll be the case for now.

Forming the image of a small but bundled ball of fire in his mind, he fed mana to his hands.

The fire burst into life from nothingness. It felt completely different from the lightning. Whereas the lightning power felt volatile, constantly trying to erupt and escape, the fire was far more subdued, calm even. There was a slow but constant throbbing coming from the fireball.

Anton knew that the fire should have been hot yet, just like at the quarry, he couldn't feel the heat. His clothes did not appear to be suffering either.

He tried to move it by pushing on it with his mana. Instead of darting around it felt and moved considerably slower, feeling as if he was pushing it. This gave him an idea.

With all his might, he threw the fireball as far and as fast as he could, using his hands to help guide the motion. It soared through the air like a tiny shooting star. It overtook the blast site and continued travelling, eventually landing near the body dump site, a small burst of flame erupted followed by the crackling sound of burning grass. Through the mana connection, he felt the fireball burst rather than explode.

That's a bit over a hundred meters away...

Just to check, Anton formed a lightning ball and pushed that as hard as he could. This one travelled slightly further than the blast site but exploded soon after.

Probably only thirty to forty meters. Well, I know what will be good for long range fighting then.

Things were continuing to bug him regarding magic. When he first arrived he used a colossus amount of mana and fried over half the main plaza. That space had to be almost fifty or more meters yet the lightning didn't dissipate.

Was it the type? It was just a barrage of lightning, rather than anything more sophisticated like the bombs that I've been using. There must be a more efficient form, I just haven't found it yet. There must be. I wonder if those books form that mage has been found yet.

Focusing back on his training, he formed an image of lightning in his head. This time he let it be just a flickering single bolt that would travel as far as he could. He gathered the mana as best he could. It felt far more difficult to get it right this time. It grew until he released it through his hands.

A single bolt flew forth away from the village with a crackle, darting and weaving through the air at near random angles. It flickered out of existence a few moments later. He couldn't feed mana fast enough. Anton guessed that it must have travelled for almost a hundred meters before fizzling out.

To compare, he formed a stream of fire. This stream was difficult to sustain and only travelled a few meters. He pointed it toward the ground, the grass burning and the ground blackening instantly. Unlike the lightning, he could feed it fast enough, though it was quickly depleting his reserves. He stopped the flow and surveyed the latest area of destruction.

None of this makes any real sense. Both seem to follow different rules. Using the bombs follows different rules to the bolts and flames...There must be some logic to all this madness. I get the feeling that the bombs are not the standard way, at least the lightning one.

There was the other issue. The fire that he made with the fire glyph didn't burn him yet it clearly affected those around him, while the lightning blasts affected everyone including himself.

Perhaps it's that the fire is still part of my own magic, while the wind lasts from the collapsing bombs is not. Further evidence that the bombs are not normal. I really need those magic books, I really need to learn how to read here. Then, I hope, I'll start to find out more about this world.

Anton felt satisfied, perhaps with a hint of resignation, with his limited information leading to his conclusions. Not wanting to set fire to the countryside or blow himself to pieces, he spent the rest of the time trying to feel out the flow through the prayer glyph as well as how the most minuscule amount of mana felt and flowed. It was getting easier each time.

Time flew by, the sun setting reminding him to return to the main plaza for dinner.

---[]---

When Anton arrived back at the main plaza he was glad to see it as a hive of activity. Villagers were bustling around, carrying plates full of food and drink. It appeared to be a celebration for their successful return.

What made him even happier was seeing everyone he knew at the large table, an empty seat reserved for him. Verona had taken the seat to the right and was chatting with Right Jeff across the table, Sam next to him. Sybil had chosen to sit next to Verona while Bertram sat another seat down. On either side past them sat Jonathan and his two children. Beyond that, there were some happily chatting and laughing villagers.

Anton could see Zac at another table drinking something and laughing merrily. Alcohol, judging by the way he carried himself. He decided not to get involved with that just yet and took his seat.

Verona smiled as she usually did when she realised that he was back.

“How'd it go?” she asked.

“Getting better at it, I think. Give me a couple of weeks and I should be pretty good at it.”

Verona nodded and turned her attention back to the food in front of her, eyes hungry.

The food was the same as it usually was, but that didn't concern him. There were more important things on his mind, things that would help decide the fate of the village and his life.

Anton remained relatively silent throughout the meal, only speaking when necessary. His mind was still far away. He wasn't even aware that someone wanted him to join into a conversation until he was jabbed in the side by Verona.

“Sorry,” he began, “My mind was somewhere else.”

Jonathan was the one that wanted to talk to Anton it turned out.

“I've just been talking with the others here about what needs to be done; weapons, armour and the like. I was just wondering if you knew anything extra that needed to be done.”

Anton thought for a moment. Verona moved out the corner of his eyes, her silver hair shining with the flickering light of the fires.

“Just an extra spear for Verona. I'm sure that you can get things done better without me interfering at every stage.”

Verona looked quite annoyed. She jabbed Anton in the side again.

“I'm fine with the one that I've got.”

Anton chuckled.

“You practically, well you did, take it from a dead Rock-Rat. Besides, I'm sure that Jonathan can make a better one.”

Jonathan nodded, confirming Anton's thoughts.

She continued to look annoyed for a few more seconds. He swore she puffed her cheeks slightly. Eventually, she relented and returned to her food.

“Fine,” she pointed at Jonathan, a lump of bread in her hand, “But make sure it's a good one. I broke the last one.”

“How did you manage that?” Jonathan asked. His children looked at Verona in awe.

“A story for another time,” Anton replied. “Apart from that, I think that everything is going rather well, for our second day.”

The others at the table nodded in agreement.

“But, I don't think we can rest just yet. Eventually, we're going to need to attack the Yellow Goblins at their source. Judging from the maps, it seems that we don't have a clear picture of the area.”

“So?” asked Right Jeff.

“It's always important to know the lay of the land. Wars have been won or lost over the understanding of the terrain.”

“You're getting so memories back then?” Bertram asked.

Anton paused for a second.

Damn. No, wait. This may be a good thing.

“Maybe. I'm not quite sure. I just know that's a thing.”

He cleared his throat and continued.

“So, we need some people that can draw out the surrounding area really well. Also, getting the job done fast will help. We'll need to keep an eye on the mountain for any signs of movement. So far we've been lucky, but if I were them I would send some scouts here, and soon. What do we have in the way of fast rideable animals?”

“We have the horses.” Sam and Sybil answered at the same time. They looked and smiled at each other. Evidently, they were friends.

Horses and giant reptile cows...

“How many?”

“Ten at last count. We did our best to keep the animals safe, but we couldn't protect them all sadly.”

“Ten should be more than sufficient. After dinner is finished and everyone's ready to go, we'll get the people we need to gather here.”

With the plan in motion and nothing else raised, they finished their meals in peace.

---[]---

Jeffrey paced, his leather shoes thumping on the wooden floor of his house. His was situated on the South-East of Atros, so it still was in good condition. He had inherited after his parents died relatively young, more than long enough to teach him how special and important his was.

The underling who brought the news was there as well. Jeffrey didn't care to remember his name, especially not now.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Jeffrey realised at that moment how this could look to his followers. He stopped his pacing and took a deep breath.

“It...It's just that he's got his fangs into another person, someone so young.”

The young man didn't look entirely convinced. Jeffrey couldn't convince himself that this was what he really thought.

How dare he! After everything I've done, for the village, for everyone, she turns her back on me. For who? This new prick? I was there for her when her parents died, and I get this in return. I have to do something...the thought that she's even talking to that man makes me sick. But what to do?

Jeffrey began pacing, now with purpose in his stride.

It's all because of that stupid mage. He needs to go, though I’m not stupid enough to go against him myself. Maybe....maybe one of those idiot women could do it? Promise them the world, then after the deed, throw her to his friends to be torn apart. Then I come in...that could work.

He laughed out loud, his plan finally starting to take shape. The young man continued to look on, face changing to regret and apprehension like he was thinking that he had chosen the wrong side.

Jeffrey walked to the window. The fire from the communal dinner could easily be seen through the wooden slats.

“Someday, Mage. Someday soon.”

---[]---

The dinner finished and Anton was feeling quite full. He got Right Jeff to gather enough villagers that could ride and those that said they could accurately enough. Those that could draw returned with scraps of paper and charcoal. He told them to pair off. As they mingled through the dissipating crowd, Anton turned his attention back to preparing the village for war.

“Does anyone here know how many bows and arrows we have in this village?”

No-one answered though Right Jeff started counting with his fingers.

“From what' I remember, should be about twenty or so. Lots more arrows, there should be.”

“Can you make more, Jonathan?”

“I'm no good with wood. And all the people that were any good...well, I think they're dead.”

Anton pursed his lips, annoyed. Though he knew there was nothing more he could do.

“Bertram, see about getting everyone who has arrows to get them to put in some central storeroom, where people can get to them if they need to. Also, Jeff, see about getting the people with bows to start training. That Bowman that was at the quarry would probably make a good leader for them.”

“Right, on it.”

The riders and the drawers were standing behind Anton, waiting for his conversation to finish. He turned and looked at them, surprised that ten people showed up.

The others, barring Verona, had left the table to continue with their responsibilities. She continued to play with what remained with her food, seemingly content to wait.

Anton began explaining what he wanted of them. He procured the rough map of the area around Atros. All leaned in for a closer look.

“Basically, I want each rider to team up with a drawer and head in one of these five directions.”

Anton drew, with his finger, five lines of equal distance apart with one heading straight for the mountain to the north.

“This is just reconnaissance, not combat. So whoever heads north, keep your wits about you and don't get spotted.”

“Right.” replied one of the riders. He didn't look as brave as he did a moment ago.

“That applies to all of you. We don't know what lies just outside the relative safety of the village. I want you to draw the terrain as best you can, noting the terrain and anything of interest. Alright, get some rest. You'll be departing at sunrise and hopefully returning before midday.”

They quickly left, hopefully, to actually get some rest rather than joining the increasingly large and rowdy drinking contest that Zac appeared to have started. Anton was just starting to feel tired and didn't feel ready to get wasted just yet.

“I think it's best that we turn in ourselves. Verona, I think your room will be ready by now.”

Verona was about to answer when she was cut off by a loud shout from Zac.

“Hey, Anton!”

“Yeah?”

“Come over here.”

Anton stood up, with a sigh of exasperation. They were probably going to ask him to join them.

“Ah, Verona, You go on ahead. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Verona gave Anton a slight wave then walked quickly towards the main hall.

He approached the drunken group. Zac made room for Anton.

There were many small barrels on the table, some appeared to be covered in some liquid. Everything and everyone reeked of alcohol. Anton was sure this was their version of moonshine.

Zac grabbed a wooden mug and poured out the liquid, passing it to Anton.

Anton felt some trepidation about drinking the fluid. Zac and the other villagers were watching with anticipation, he knew they wouldn't relent until he drunk some.

It burned the moment it touched his tongue. He forced himself to swallow, coughing as the burning after-taste came back up. The villagers laughed and returned to their drinking.

“God, what's in that?” Anton asked, while still trying to get his coughing under control.

“Just a bit of my own personal brew. I was thinking, if it was going to be my last night, that I'd drown myself and wouldn't care.”

“Please tell me you had a change of heart?”

Zac laughed, Anton, noticing that his hairy face was becoming redder as he continued to drink.

“I have every confidence in you boy.” Zac put his arm around Anton and shook him. It appeared that he became quite friendly when he was drunk.

“I thought that it would be a great time to celebrate, with everything starting to look better. Besides, drinking by yourself can get quite depressing.”

Zac removed his arm from Anton, motioning for Anton to take another drink.

Anton took another sip, the burning sensation already numbed by the alcohol. He wasn't much of a drinker back on Earth but he occasionally enjoyed some, but nothing with this amount of alcohol.

There was a slight buzzing in his head already. He knew that he definitely shouldn't get into a drinking contest on this drink.

“So, come on. Just a few more.”

The alcohol was already starting to get to him a little bit.

“Well, maybe just one more.”

Zac and the other villagers let out a loud cheer, passing another mug to Anton.

---[]---

After six more drinks, Anton was finally able to tear himself away from the drinking villagers. He knew he was clearly drunk, walking in a straight line took considerable effort. The level of intoxication had muddled his thinking, so much that he didn't think to try and use the prayer glyph to get sober.

Armed villagers were undergoing their patrols. Even some construction work was still being carried out despite only the moonlight and dim torches illuminating their way.

He stumbled into the main hall, throwing off his shoes as best he could. He realised that he didn't know which room was Verona's. Hopefully, Bertram or Sybil had told her where it was.

When he opened the door to his room he knew something was wrong.

His bed should have been flat but there was a lump on the right side. In the moonlight, he could see a silvery head sticking out of the fur covers. The covers rose and fell in a slow rhythm.

Verona was sleeping in his bed.

She looked quite calm, mouth slightly agape.

He was too tired and drunk to cause a fuss. He also didn't want to wake her, he just wanted to sleep.

Instead, he took the far left side of the bed. He knew that he apparently moved about when he slept. Tonight he hoped he didn't.

Sleep quickly overtook him, the alcohol helping him drift off into the dreamland. Just before it overtook him he thought he heard movement, but it was too late to react.

---[]---

Anton awoke to the early morning rays in his eyes. He was lying in the middle of the bed. There was a slight numbness to his right upper arm as well.

He touched the space of the bed just to his right. It was warm, though it was cooling rapidly.

Crack. Anton heard the sound of stone on wood.

Verona was practising with her stolen spear, slashing and stabbing in silence. Sometimes she struck the floor, wincing every time she did it. Occasionally she would stop and repeat a move multiple times without any force and then continued practising

He watched in silence for a moment, impressed that she would be training this early. There was a grace to her movement that was captivating.

However, he knew he couldn't remain silent forever. If Verona knew that he sat there in silence watching her, she would probably find that quite disturbing.

“Ahem.”

Verona jumped as if someone had just poured ice cold water down her back, dropping the spear.

“Hey,” she replied nervously, “How....how long have you been awake?”

He felt that he shouldn't tell the truth.

“I've only just woken up. Speaking of which...”

Anton looked over at the right side of the bed. It had clearly been slept in, despite an attempt to cover that fact up.

“I...er...well...you see....”

Verona was trying wildly to try and explain herself, her hands running through her hair as she tried to think of something. Her face was starting to turn crimson.

This is getting embarrassing...

“Verona?”

“Yes?!”

She regained her composure, almost.

“Take a deep breath first.”

She did as she was told, looking much calmer afterwards.

“Okay. After you told me to go to bed I came in but didn't know which one was meant to be mine. There's a few in here...and you were busy drinking. And I was really tired, so I went to the place I knew was safe...so...”

She trailed off near the end, looking straight at her feet.

Anton really didn't blame her. Not only did he not make sure that there was space, he basically left her alone. Still, it wasn't entirely bad to have someone sleep next to him.

“Well, to be honest, I should have made sure that everything was alright with you before going drinking.”

“So, you're not mad?”

Anton shook his head.

“Not really. Just was a little surprised is all. How's your training going?”

She looked down at her spear.

“I'm trying to figure out how to use it properly. I'm trying different ways to fight with it.”

“If you put the same amount of effort you did into getting the spear to twirl when I first met you, I'm sure you'll do fine.”

Verona scratched the back of her head, faintly flushing.

“Well, show me what you can do.”

Anton threw off the covers and got out of bed.

“Um...”

Verona pointed with one hand and averted her face, still peeking from the corner of her eyes.

He felt a sense of dread welling up inside of him, fearing that during his drunken sleep he had managed to remove all his clothes, especially his pants.

A wave of relief came after looking down, he was still wearing his villager pants. And there was nothing wrong with them.

The air felt cool on his chest; he had managed to take his shirt off during his drunken sleep. His upper body looked considerably better than he remembered, more defined perhaps.

I did use a lot of all three glyphs...perhaps the prayer glyph did this. I hope I don't become one of those people that has trouble turning. Tethra, if you can hear this, don't make me like some muscle mass with a head...please.

Verona continued to stare out the corner of her eyes as Anton tried to make sense of his change.

Eventually, she coughed again, bringing him back to his senses.

He found his villager shirt chucked onto the floor and threw it on as quickly as he could.

It was still itchy on his skin, though it was hardly flattering. The shirt did not so much as hang but more puffed and buckled at odd angles, made from whatever materials the villagers could spare.

Verona's clothes looked the same as his, he couldn't tell what she looked like underneath. His mind had wandered there before. She said she was of age.

Keep yourself focused.

He didn't dare ask, especially not right now.

She had calmed down now that Anton was fully clothed.

He gestured for her to continue practising, seemingly grateful that she could focus on something else.

She wielded the spear as if it were a sword, slashing back and forth rather than stabbing and retracting.

“Verona?”

“Yes?”

“Your spear is meant for stabbing, not slashing. Try stabbing and retracting. I'm pretty sure that it's not meant to be used as a sword. If it breaks you'll be in real trouble.”

“...right.”

Verona adjusted her stance and movements, quickly becoming more proficient. After a few minutes, she looked quite comfortable attacking with a spear.

“Though, I believe that there is no better teacher than experience,” Anton added after watching her improve in a few minutes.

“Have you used a weapon before?” Verona asked, stopping her practice, placing the but of her spear on the floor.

“Well, not that I remember.”

Though that's not exactly true.

“Besides, I think I'll be better used figuring out how to use my magic. Once we get you and everyone better weapons, we'll get everyone learning things like formations.”

Verona cocked her head slightly.

“You know quite a lot about fighting.”

Anton shrugged, remaining silent. Verona took this that the conversation wouldn't continue. She continued to practice while Anton watched.

Nearly half an hour passed before Verona's practice session was interrupted by her growling stomach.

Well, it probably has been more than long enough. Hope she doesn't think me watching her is too weird. Speaking of which, these last two days I've gone without breakfast. I've seen them eating different things then what we have for lunch and dinner.

“I think that'll do for now Verona. What do people usually have...for...breakfast. You, know, the first meal of the day.”

“I dunno. Usually, what's left over from the previous day. Bits of meat are my favourite.”

She started licking her lips, eyes looking far away into the distance.

That was another question Anton probably didn't want to know. He knew that the Ix could, but usually, weren't eaten, so where was the meat coming from? Hopefully not from the dead. That quick mental image made him queasy.

Verona leaned her spear against the wall and headed outside, not waiting for Anton. He followed after realising that he had been left alone.

---[]---

Outside, work had begun.

Interestingly, a large pit had been dug in the centre of the plaza. There was a fire raging in the pit and a large number of villagers crowded around it.

Anton could smell cooking meat. It smelled something similar to pork yet there was an undercurrent of beef.

Verona was already at the back of the crowd, her silver hair trying to push through the villagers.

The group parted slightly as they saw Anton approach. Verona used this chance to dive through to the front.

The meat looked like three pigs on a wooden spit over the fire He hadn't seen similar creatures from the village. It was a mystery as to where they came from.

“What are those?” Anton asked.

One of the villagers turned to him.

“Razor pigs, they roam the area. Bit tricky to catch but well worth it. Didn't you see one on the way to the quarry?”

To be honest, the thought of having to fight was the most pressing thing on my mind. I may have seen some things scampering away...those were probably them.

“I really wasn't paying attention. When did you do this?”

“Sun up.” the villager replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, tell us when it's ready. I'm going to have a look around at the construction work.”

The villagers nodded and waved in acknowledgement, their attention quickly returning to the cooking animal.

As he walked away he heard the familiar footsteps. Verona had managed to pull herself away.

“So...what are you doing?” her eyes flickered between him and the fire.

“Going to have a look around where the wall will be built. Most of the stone has gone already. I would like to see how it's going.”

Verona looked as if she wanted to come along but hesitated.

“I'm sure they can save you a piece.”

“Alright, I'll come with ya'.”

He hadn't really noticed before, but sometimes Verona dropped into some sort of slang. It wasn't as impenetrable as Right Jeff's was.

As they started to walk away towards the north, he was stopped when his name was called out.

He turned around and found Shawn and Jocelyn running up to him, carrying a spear between them. They ran straight up towards Anton.

“Our dad told us to bring this to you straight away,” Jocelyn said with a soft melodious voice.

“He spent a lot of time on this one. He didn't sleep until really late. Said it's the best one he's made in a long time” Shawn added.

They handed Anton the spear.

It looked simple but very well built; the shaft was a hard, almost chocolate coloured straight wood. The tip was a metal, probably iron. It was incredibly sharp, as he could feel as he ran his finger over it. It was a very high-quality weapon.

The children looked expectantly at Anton, brimming with joy when he nodded with approval.

He handed it to Verona. She too had a look of awe as she held it. After twirling it around her hand a few times she slung it over her shoulder, quite proud of how she looked. She almost did look like a soldier, now it was just a case of getting some armour and training to match.

“Tell your father that he does exceptional work. I'll be around soon to see how he's going.”

“Okay!” both children said, Shawn overpowering Jocelyn's voice.

They scampered off towards the south, running and giggling as they ran.

Anton turned his attention back to Verona.

“Are you going to get rid of your trophy now?”

Verona held the spear in front of her, continuing her inspection.

“Probably. This is far better than both of them. Can't wait to try it out on those goblin fucks.”

Anton was still surprised at the language and venom Verona directed towards the Yellow Goblins. Though they probably killed her parents, so it wasn't completely incomprehensible. He just hoped that it would end after their deaths.

“Well, I'm going over north now to check on the wall. You coming?”

Verona nodded, walking in line with Anton.