--- Roric

Roric couldn't move.

The only things he was able to hear were distant, vague noises that resembled human screams, echoing in the darkness around him. The boy felt the cold touch of fear as a hulking figure emerged from a hole in the ground. It wasn’t a normal person, that much he could tell. Its skin was colorless, and a deathly veil completely covered its eyes. In its right hand, that only partially looked like a hand, the creature held a curved blade.

The boy tried to step back but stumbled, falling in a muddy ditch. Before him, the monstrosity crawled, making disgusting growls and gurgles. He was grabbed with and incredible strength and the creature smiled disturbingly, forcing him down. He couldn’t fight back, not with his own power alone. The sword raised, ready to end his life.

He abruptly came to his senses, facing a wooden ceiling.

Panting like he had run for many miles, Roric frantically checked his surroundings only to find out that he was in a big room, dimly lit by a couple of candles. Nearby, the boy recognized several soldiers from his group but there were also many others that he had never seen before. Blankets had been laid around to accommodate them, but the absence of windows and the air reeking of blood made it pretty clear that the place was some sort of hospital.

How... How did I get here?

The last thing he remembered was fighting an enemy warrior in that ditch… The battle! He instantly went for his right hand, looking for any sign of that thing. His memories were still fuzzy, but he was absolutely sure of what he had seen. Yet the fingers, the palm, the nails seemed all normal.

A dream? No, I have killed a man with... Lightning. Was it really me?

Full of thoughts, Roric lay down on his blanket. What had happened carried his mind away from the other questions he had, making him feel a little guilt because of that. Had they won? Were Frauli and the others alright? Even if the fates of his friends were still unknown to him, the boy couldn’t help but being much more interested by that mysterious power instead.

"Magic," he whispered, stretching his arm towards the ceiling. "It has to be."

Roric had heard of Mages a couple of times before. All he knew were vague stories and rumours that sometimes could be heard among Sinen’s people. They were some sort of weird order of scholars who possessed supernatural powers, fit for fighting. Contrary to the priests, however, the folks didn't seem to trust them at all.

Whenever a new magic user was born, in fact, their agents usually came in a matter of weeks. There were tales of young children, betrothed maidens, even grown men who had suddenly received a visit by the Mages, telling them that they were expected to go with them. At that point those people had two choices, learning and serving under their Circle or being imprisoned in an inescapable dungeon for the rest of their lives. And nobody seemed to possess any information on what happened next.

The boy shivered. That ability had saved his life, but the price to pay already looked absurd. If he really was a Mage, he was doomed. Still, magic or not, it had saved his life.

He didn’t want to think about it in that moment. Lying on his side the young mercenary closed his eyes, focusing once again on the battle. From what he remembered things were going well, despite the sacrifice of many of his companions. Frauli had been knocked aside in the last charge, but what happened to him then?

I’m too tired now, I’ll check when I wake up.

Still, falling asleep seemed impossible. Every little detail of his clash with the Ekhar warrior kept flowing inside his head. The feelings of that moment, that lightning… That power. Roric needed to understand. It had come out like an instinctive reaction to his desire to survive. Was that the cause? The only certain thing was that he had avoided being slaughtered in that ditch, and it was probably another stroke of luck.

Time passed. The room was very dark and figuring out if it was day or night became a pure guess. At some point the door creaked and a man came in, carrying a bucket of water and many pieces of cloth. Roric had helped Tolwin many times before, but he had never seen him in such a miserable state. The old priest had probably worked without rest since the start of the battle, to save as many as he could, and now looked like he was about to collapse with every step. Judging from the men of Ekhar that the boy had faced, the rest of the army must have had a hard time on the Rien as well.

Come to think of it... Why is he always so selfless? Helping people, and...

When he noticed that Roric was awake, Tolwin came closer and smiled gently. His eyes were half closed, but his presence was the most reassuring thing since the end of that nightmare.

"Thank goodness," he said, clearing his throat afterwards. "When they told me they had found you unconscious, I was worried sick."

"How much did I sleep?" asked the boy, raising his back despite the fatigue and the pain. "The battle feels like an eternity ago."

"Easy, you can't push yourself just yet. We have returned to Mublas two days ago, after spending many hours to recover all the injured."

Two days!

Roric was shocked by the news, but obediently lay back down.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he went on with the questions. "What about the battle? Did we win?"

He wasn't so sure that he wanted to know the answer. The boy fully understood the risks of fighting now, and anything could have happened in that chaos near the river. Washing his hands inside the bucket, the old man sighed.

"Barely. We lost most of the people who stood in the front, and almost a third of the company is gone because they were right in the middle. When the commander came to save you guys, he left Ugrin in charge. Don't take me wrong, I know it was necessary and I still believe it was the right move, yet... The soldiers expected to be led by him, not by one of his captains. Then things escalated."

"What happened?"

"Charsa ordered his men to retreat, ignoring the others, and escape from the battlefield. I've spoken with many officers and they all told me that it was intentional. His betrayal had to be planned," continued the priest. "Some of his soldiers remained to fight, but they were too few, too exposed and got decimated... Opening a way to flank the bulk of the republican forces. It was a miracle that Ugrin managed to turn the situation around and beat the enemy."

"We were caught by surprise too," said the boy. "They came out of nowhere. Captain Wals held them back but they were too many... The commander arrived just in time to save us."

"The enemy was aiming for that ancient road since the start. Courtesy of Lady Leanna herself, by the looks of it. Well, at least you'll be happy to know that the other recruits are all alive and well. Even Meran came back without a scratch."

That dumbass is hard to kill after all. But really, the Lady told the enemies about that weakness? She seemed like a weird person but... What was the point?

"And this brings us to you," suddenly inquired the old man. "When they found you, nobody could say exactly what had happened. Apart from a couple of bruises you were completely fine, yet... You stayed unconscious for two days. Everyone assumed you had passed out from the fear, but to be honest I don't know what to say. What happened, exactly?"

The boy stopped breathing for a couple of seconds.

Can I trust him? Tolwin has always been kind to me, and he has magic powers too... I can't think of a single person that would help me with this.

Despite not knowing what his reaction would have been, Roric decided that the priest deserved to know the truth. After all, he had saved him twice.

"I was fighting a man, he was about to kill me, and then... I did something. Something I can't really explain," he whispered.

The old man came closer, and even looked behind his back to see if anyone was listening. Then he nodded, as to tell him to go on.

"It was some sort of magic... I think," said the boy. "Lightning came out from my arm. I killed that enemy like that, in an instant, and collapsed right away. I have no idea of what it was."

Tolwin's eyes went wide, momentarily cleared from every trace of exhaustion. He checked a second time that the other soldiers were sleeping, and lowered his voice.

"Don't tell anyone else about this," he murmured, with a very serious tone. "Not even the commander. When you feel better, come to me. We'll need to talk."

His words worried Roric. It was pretty obvious that a similar story required a bit of secrecy, but even the commander wasn't allowed to know?

Is this power... Dangerous?

"Alright," was the only thing the boy could say.

Tolwin stood up and left the room in silence. The following hours were fairly quiet, except for an injured man who kept moaning. The young mercenary rested until he felt like walking, and finally went out in the sun.

It was late morning. The building he had stayed in was a small storehouse located near the northern palisade of Mublas. Mercenaries and republicans were camped in the village, scattered pretty much everywhere, and many of them had at least light wounds. Roric had just begun searching for the priest’s tent whern a voice addressed him.

"Roric! Roric, here!"

It was Frauli. His left arm was wrapped with a bandage, but overall he seemed alright. He came and crushed the younger boy in a strong hug.

"Me and the others were so concerned about you," he exclaimed. "Me and Demios, to be frank. Rata said something like good for him and Meran... Well, he is Meran."

"The battle was a mess. When the enemies charged I must have hit my head or something."

Roric was glad that his friends were alive, but he had more pressing affairs. With an excuse, he got rid of Frauli and finally found Tolwin. The man looked much better, after some sleep. As he let him inside, the young mercenary wondered how much of a strain those healing powers could be for that old body.

Still, I came here for a different reason.

"So, here I am," began the boy, quickly getting to the point. "You wanted to talk away from the others, right?"

"Exactly," confirmed the priest. "Especially from the prying eyes and ears of the republicans. I don't think it would be wise to have this conversation outside."

He seemed very serious about that, but just from his gaze the boy could tell that he wanted to help. For a second the man just looked at his assistant, then he went on.

"I don't mean to sound incompetent, but I'm not completely sure of the nature of what you experienced. I have, however, some clues."

Tolwin took another pause. Meanwhile Roric was on the verge of losing his mind.

"... And?"

"And," resumed the priest. "I still need a couple of days to figure things out. I'll check some books about mysticism and magic, but it's all I can do for now."

The young mercenary felt a bit disappointed. He valued this man like he was family at that point, but wasn't expecting him to be ignorant about those kinds of things. Still, he was his best bet.

"What did you call me for, then? What do I do?"

"One step at the time. First, keep it a secret for now. We have to be careful," answered Tolwin. "I thought of something and it's kind of a long shot but if your power is what I suspect it is nobody can be trusted. Not in this part of the world at least."

The boy gulped.

Are we in danger?

"Tolwin," said Roric, with a shaky voice. "What are we hiding, exactly?"

"I can't tell you right now," replied the old man. "But I will. Bear with me, young one. And before you go, another piece of advice: stay away from fighting. Some sparring is fine, but don't overdo it. Strong emotions could get you into a lot of trouble."