It was a dark and rainy, late autumn afternoon and Ahrden was sitting at his desk leaning over a thick tome. He had a full mug of hot coffee on his table, which was a sight not many got to see in the Valley. Tea was a relatively common commodity, but it was hard to cultivate the coffee shrub in the Valley, so it was a luxurious beverage that few got to enjoy. For Ahrden, this was a daily drink, and since he knew how much Felinda liked it, thanks to him, she too got to enjoy it whenever she wished to.
When Ahrden first stumbled upon a coffee shrub farm while roaming the lands of the Nethedral nation, he could not believe his luck. In the beginning, he had been harvesting small quantities when it was that time of the year, but on one faithful winter morning when he ran out of coffee, he decided to change his approach.
Since Ahrden knew where the coffee was grown, tracing back where the harvested coffee was taken took little time for him. Once he found the small village, he was able to locate the storage for the coffee beans and from then on, he had an unlimited supply. No longer doing as much as even harvesting it, Ahrden felt a little guilty at first for stealing it so openly. Coincidentally this happened the same time when he learnt of a supposedly minor skirmish between the Nethedral nation and his own that turned incredibly blood-soaked. This helped him tremendously to put things into better perspective. He didn't try to rationalize his actions, but stealing from the elite of a nation that fought his own for no good reason didn't seem like such a big deal anymore. The number of dead bodies that some of these smaller conflicts claimed, and especially the one that happened in that time, piled so high that stealing some coffee beans was insulting to mention in the same breath.
Slowly sipping the hot black coffee while the rain was beating down on the windows calmed Ahrden and brought him a deep sense of tranquillity. From his late father he knew that many warrior and rogue teachers longed for these rainy days to have the opportunity to train their students in the muddy environment. He could not be more thankful that his class didn't require any of this from him, but rather a comfortable chair and some hot coffee.
It has been a while since Ahrden was out in the city for a social visit, which wasn't unusual unlike the feeling he now felt. He didn't necessary miss the people, but rather he felt like walking down in the streets of the capital. Ahrden stopped reading the book before him and leaned back to ponder about what he craved, it wasn't nature, not now, but rather the people, or more specifically the soldiers were the ones he wanted to meet.
No, that couldn't be it. Why would he? At most he missed the feeling of walking down the narrow, curvy streets of his capital, but in no way could he be longing to meet the soldiers of his nation. This newfound feeling certainly felt odd and so to distract himself from it Ahrden decided to plunge back into the realms of arcane.
---
It was late afternoon; the rain had stopped some time ago unlike Ahrden's desire to meet actual people. He still couldn't explain this unnatural almost forced feeling he felt, but going into the city could certainly not hurt him. He wanted to find out what drew him to want to meet the warriors, rogues and hunters of his nation.
Ahrden got up from his desk and dressed to meet others for the first time in a long while. He put on his light leather clothes, which let him move freely while keeping him warm. His boots were comfortable and light, similar to the ones a rogue would wear. As a final step he thought about putting on his cloak against the looming rain that could resume in any minute and eventually decided to do so.
Ahrden was about to step outside the door when he realized that it was locked, and he had no idea where the keys were. This, of course, wasn't a problem, because he had been teleporting in and out of his house rather than using the door and on the rare occasions when he did travel through it, he used a spell to do the key's work. This moment of pause was enough for him to think and what he thought about the people he was about to meet. Despite the pull he had been feeling all day he begun reconsidering his plan.
He pointed towards the lock, ready to channel the arcane to unlock it. Ahrden stood there for a good minute before finally deciding to abandon his initial plan and visit Felinda instead. He materialized just outside of her shop and, without pause, walked in. Whenever he was in trouble, Ahrden didn't hesitate to crash into the counter, but on more casual visits, he preferred to take the normal approach.
Ahrden saw two customers, which made him happy because he knew how hard it was for Felinda to keep the business afloat. Her unorthodox methods, combined with her well-known but rarely liked dreamy personality, made her otherwise outstanding products not the first choice for many customers.
Felinda rarely talked about herself, no matter how hard Ahrden pressed her, but over the years, he was able to form a picture about how she became the person she was. After graduating as a potion-maker with excellent results, she worked for the best shop in the capital where she could further master her profession and save up enough money over the years to open up her own place. She eventually opened the shop, which she now had and her skilfully made products flew off the shelf instantly.
She became a sensation not only in the capital but also in the whole nation. Soon, people started showing up who weren't only interested in the products but also in the seller. That was how she met the man who later became her husband. They had two children, but neither lived to become an adult. Her firstborn died in a disease even she couldn't cure, and shortly after, her younger child died along with his husband in the often-cited bloody war against the Velintenal nation that claimed Ahrden's grandparents too.
Afterwards, Felinda disappeared for decades, and when she returned, she was no longer an ordinary potion-maker. No one knew where she went or what she did, but she brought back methods, techniques and ingredients, that were foreign to this land. Her ties to the magical world became evident for everyone, which sealed her newly reopened shop's faith. Few people dared to try her products, but over time word spread again that her potions were better than any other. However, this wasn't enough for people to start buying her goods because, as someone associated with the arcane realms, she too was deemed as one to avoid whenever possible.
No matter how much the capital had shunned the odd potion maker when someone suffered from something others could not cure the road usually led to her shop. Most of the time Felinda could cure these peculiar diseases, which meant that she gained a forever faithful lifelong customer, but this devotion still did not spread to the others. When she was as helpless as the rest of her colleagues against an illness, she was almost exclusively blamed for her inability to help. This behaviour was not fair, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Ever since Ahrden started to perform the unlikely feats that he was doing, rumours spread that it was always Felinda who patched him up afterwards. This did little to convince the masses to start coming to her shop, but the close family and friends of the soldiers saved by Ahrden usually got the courage to start visiting her shop. Again, this too did not spread to the unaffected families, but her customers had undoubtedly increased.
Ahrden was delighted to know that he could contribute in some ways to her wellbeing after being saved so many times by her. He hoped that one day he would be able to help her more, but for the time being, he was happy to see two customers when he came in.
Waiting in her shop was always a pleasant thing for Ahrden as he often spent hours in there. He loved going through the shelves over and over, rummaging around the items, many of which had magical traces. He did his best to soak in the atmosphere he adored, which was actually quite close to the one he had in his own cosy study.
The second customer was about to pay when an exhausted young scout burst through the door. He looked around the small workshop, and upon seeing Ahrden, he turned towards him immediately.
'I was looking for you, Ahrden. Apologies for the interruption. I'm Handrel, and I need your help.'
Ahrden looked at Felinda questioningly, who was smiling at the situation. After she saw that Ahrden couldn't immediately respond, she thought about lightening the mood.
'You came here when you were looking for Ahrden?'
'No, m'lady, I went to his house, but it was empty, and then I came here.'
'You came here right away?'
'Right away, m'lady.'
Felinda smiled in a cheeky way, proud to be the second location where the nation's mage would likely be at.
'No more questions, thank you, dear.'
Ahrden mused at the proud smile of Felinda, then turned towards the scout.
'What can I help you with?'
'A battle is waging right now, and we are losing.'
The air froze in the shop. No one moved, no one made a sound. Ahrden's mind exploded into a frenzied race to work things out as he thought back to today. He had been drawn to the soldiers of his nation all day for reasons he could not explain, but now it seemed to make sense. He did not know how or why, but on some level, he felt that something was wrong before he knew about it. He had never read of such thing to occur with other magi, which made his bafflement even more vibrant.
'I beg of you! Help us.' Handrel said forcing Ahrden back to the present from his churning thoughts.
'Why me?'
'My father was in the scouting group that was ambushed. He told me how you have single-handedly saved everyone there. He trusts you with his life, and so I do. He is fighting in the battle, and I need you to help him again.'
'So, this only comes from you; no one from the leaders requested me?'
'Ahrden, don't do that,' Felinda cut in. 'You know very well that they would never ask for your help, just like you know that you can help those soldiers.'
Ahrden thought for a moment.
'How big are the armies?'
'Most of ours and who knows what how much of the Velintenal nation, but their army matches if not outnumbers ours.'
'Most of ours?' the woman cried out who remained at the shop after she had already bought what she came here to. 'My husband and two boys must be there as well! I was told they had left for practise, nothing more. Ahrden, I beg of you, you have to go and help them. Please Ahrden! Please!'
'What was your name again?' Ahrden asked the scout.
'Handrel.'
'Handrel, I'm guessing the Map Room is full of people who are eager to give me the latest update.'
'That is where the war council is, yes.'
Ahrden loved the honest and smart answer that evaded the core of his statement.
'Felinda, I've hoped to spend more time here, but if things go as planned, I'll drop by again, probably half dead. If not, say something nice about me.'
'Don't say that, Ahrden! If things get too hot, get out of there, don't sacrifice yourself if there is no hope,' Felinda tried to reason with Ahrden.
'You have to save my family!' the woman cut in again.
Ahrden felt that it was time to leave.
He materialized in front of the grand open doors of the City Hall and walked through them. Right away, he noticed that instead of the usual two, four guards protected the Map Room. Knowing what this meant, the gravity of the situation started to sink in, and his heart quickened as it was slowly dawning on him that soon he'll be knee deep in blood, fighting a losing battle. Before any of the guards could tell him to leave, he teleported into the Map Room.
The sight was expected, but it also crushed the last remnants of hope that maybe none of this was real. The room was full of people, with scouts lining the wall of the room, who were either waiting to receive a missive or relaxing after having just arrived with one. All the high-ranking officers were gathered around the massive table in the middle of the room, and everyone was frantically trying to express their opinion. The president stood on the other side of the table with arms crossed in front of his chest, looking down at the table with a face that aged decades since Ahrden had last seen him.
Everyone was so busy and important that no one noticed Ahrden as he walked through the swirling crowd until he stood by the table with a giant map laid on it, about a section of the border that was between their nation and the Velintenal's. Little figures represented the current state of the battle that was being fought there, and just from the first glance of it, Ahrden could tell that his nation was losing it. Since arriving, he had heard the words: retreat, loss and death more often than any other, which further confirmed what he saw on the map.
When he looked up and addressed the president, everyone immediately recognized his voice and the room fell silent.
'How bad?' Ahrden asked.
The president looked up, and as he was looking at Ahrden, his lines oddly became softer.
'The front line dies so the rest may live. If they fall too soon, we won't have an army by dusk and the capital will fall by dawn.'
--
When Ahrden arrived at the scene, he was behind the front line that stretched across a large clearing, and the rest of his soldiers were running in his direction. Chaos was everywhere, and the familiar horns which signalled the retreat for his nation were constantly being sounded. Ahrden saw dead soldiers everywhere, and most of them wore armour he grew up seeing every day. The enemy was not far away and was pushing hard at the front line, which did his best to keep them at bay.
Most of the soldiers who ran by Ahrden didn't even notice him, and the ones who did paid little to no attention to him. Now and then, Ahrden could get a glimpse of the enemy army which was greater both in number and in bloodlust compared to his nation's, and he feared that in the beginning, both of these things were close to equal.
After accessing the situation, Ahrden started walking towards the front line, passing more and more retreating friendly soldiers. At one point, a soldier ran up to him, whose name escaped Ahrden's mind, grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him hard while he yelled, 'Run you fool!'. The soldier was gone before Ahrden could muster a response. He was glad because he needed his attention elsewhere.
As Ahrden got closer and the pathetic state of the front line became ever more evident, he couldn't help but admire the soldiers who stayed behind, knowing that there was no tomorrow for them. They were surely going to die, but that was a price they were willing to pay to save the ones who could retreat. The enemy soldiers were frantically beating down upon them but they could not yet get through the last line of defence. Everyone there knew that it was a matter of minutes before this fragile struggle ended, but the valiant soldiers did their best to postpone this moment.
Ahrden stopped walking when he was a few strides behind his soldiers. Even from behind, he could recognize the elaborate armour that general Ferdan wore, who kept the enemy back with more success than any other. Ahrden focused and reached out with his energy. He carefully sought out the line between the enemy soldiers and his own and erected a thin barrier that stretched across the battlefield. The frontline was somewhat straight, so the barrier was a continuous wall with smaller turns in it. The barrier itself could barely be noticed by either of the soldiers, but once it was standing Ahrden suddenly fed it with immense arcane power. The fragile membrane between the soldiers, that so far only affected the light that went through it, solidified in that instant and became rock-hard. The familiar flaring blue lit up every time someone struck it, but it held, and it held firm.
The friendly soldiers looked at each other, not understanding what was going on. Ferdan, who had fought alongside with Ahrden before, was the first to look behind him and see Ahrden as he held his hands up in a similar way, he had seen him do before. He shouted a few short orders, and it quickly spread through the entire frontline while the enemy attackers kept battering on the shield doing everything to get through it.
Ahrden's eyes were flaring with the same blue fire which flared up when the shield was struck. He stood there radiating power that dwarfed even the general's as he kept an entire army at bay.
'Retreat. Tell them Ferdan,' Ahrden said, adding the second part because he knew that the baffled soldiers would have a hard time obeying a command which went straight against the one their general had given them.
No one moved until Ferdan gave the order, but after that, they all broke into a run that defied their current state. As Ferdan moved past Ahrden, he looked him deep in the eye and gratitude mixed with worry reflected from them as he nodded in appreciation towards him. Ahrden could not afford to look at him nor the others, but once they were all behind him, he no longer thought about any of that.
All that remained now was a sizeable and furious army, only held back by a thin barrier of arcane and beyond that stood Ahrden in his light leather clothes. He couldn't help but grin at how impossible the situation was. He knew he could not defeat them, nor could he keep them back for much longer, and the enemy probably knew that too. What he needed to do was to make them believe that he could. If he were to run now, the retreating and wounded soldiers would surely be hunted down, and the Velintenal victory would only be greater than if he hadn't come at all. The only way out of this situation was to delay the enemy long enough to save all of the retreating soldiers or win the battle that was already lost.
The enemy soldiers were organized, prepared and hungry for blood, and although Ahrden could not change the latter two, he intended to put the well-oiled machine in a situation where it could not function properly. Ahrden was sheer focus, and while he could only hold the barrier for a few more seconds, he was able to begin conjuring his next spell. Since no magical forces were attacking the barrier, he only needed to fend off physical attacks, but by now that too was more than he could handle in such large numbers.
His next spell was enabled by the large, black clouds that heavily hung in the air above their heads. Ahrden turned his attention towards the sky with his right hand extended before him and held his left hand high up. He kept channelling the constant flow of energy, which fed the barrier although it was already cracking at multiple sections, while he cast his next spell with the other. Ahrden said the spell aloud. Many soldiers paused attacking the barrier to see what was happening as the sky started thundering like never before, while Ahrden kept on chanting the words that were carried far by the newly born wind.
Ahrden ceased feeding power into the wall and turned all of his attention towards the sky. Moments later, when the rain came down, it came down hard, and it came down at once. There were no initial few drops, no warning. Nothing. Everything came down, and it came down unyielding. Everyone got drenched in an instant, which cooled some heads, but infuriated more.
Ahrden lowered his hands and closed his eyes. He felt the enemy army start towards him as one, and it was a petrifying experience. He cast his own spell, spreading it farther than ever before and making the normally thick fog even denser, which further worsened the visibility on the clearing. He felt the ground beneath his feet get soaked in the rain, and he used his arcane to further speed up the process; by easing water into the already wet ground and turning it into mud. Ahrden created a thick layer of fine mud on the surface of the entire clearing, which made even the fittest warrior strain from effort as he charged towards him while the rain kept on beating down at them. Satisfied with the results, Ahrden opened his eyes and, after his initial surprise at how dense the fog around him was, he prepared himself for the coming battle.
The charging Velintenal soldiers had already crushed an army, but they still hungered for more. They were more than capable of destroying whatever lay in their path and chase down the fleeing soldiers. The impossibly thick curtain of rain slowed their charge combined with the deep and fine pool of mud. On top of all that, once they entered the fog, all of them felt, but no one could specify the strange sensation which seemed to have further impaired their otherwise agile movement. The curtain of rain, the mud and the fog all clung to the armoured soldiers and forced them to work that much harder. It felt as if this invisible pressure were to strengthen the closer they got to the figure who had caused all of this, but none of this wasn't restricting enough to clench their bloodthirst. Not by far.
With the fog reaching the edge of the clearing, Ahrden felt everything that was happening: he felt the individual raindrops as they fell; he felt the mud splatter in every direction as the soldiers cut through everything to reach him. Despite all the things that restricted the movement of everyone on the field, Ahrden moved with ease, and he felt nimble like a rogue in the shadows. The wall of soldiers coming at him was alarmingly wide, and they could have easily closed around him or effortlessly passed him, so Ahrden needed to do something. Although, they were not visible in the thick fog, he felt the first soldiers near him. He still had time for his next spell, which was again aided by the storm clouds above, yet it still required a great deal of effort from him. Ahrden cast the spell and called down bolts of lightning from above, which struck the two sides of the charging army. Soldiers went flying into the air, others just dropped dead after they burnt beyond recognition in an instant. The piercing light momentarily blinded everyone as they got used to the dusk environment. Without much aiming or directing, Ahrden kept calling down the bolts of lightning at roughly the two sides of the enemy line, making them tunnel in front of him until the first soldiers reached him.
With the movement of his lips two brightly flaring deep dark blue blades formed in Ahrden's hands just as the foremost soldier had reached him and the battle begun. Ahrden's blade was superior to all that came against it, and it quickly showed on the battlefield. Ahrden was less experienced in the arts of hand-to-hand combat, and he was hopelessly outnumbered, but he had arcane on his side, which concurred everything in the world where steel was the most powerful. The enemy soldiers moved slower with their heavy weapons minding where the friendly soldiers were, while Ahrden manoeuvred swiftly and with precision, only caring about who to cut down next. He stopped the initial charge of the Velintenal soldiers so effectively that even he couldn't have anticipated this.
The same dark deep blue which made up his blades burnt in Ahrden's eyes, and he no longer felt fatigue or exhaustion. He was driven beyond all of those obstacles, and he was in the flow of the moment. He soon found himself utterly surrounded by the enemy soldiers, but if anything, he welcomed it. He was able to keep up with the attacks coming from every direction. No matter how many soldiers he cut down, there was always another to replace the fallen, and despite everything, Ahrden knew that he could not keep this up for long.
Ahrden was so focused that while he kept up his blur of attacks; blocking and evading then countering and striking, he started a spell that was removing the warmth from everything around him. The air was already quite cold, but Ahrden kept stealing every bit of energy from it and from the other nearby elements. The water drops around him quickly froze, and they started making a rhymical banging noise as they crushed into the mail armour of the warriors. The mud started becoming rigid and less fluid, making moving in it even more taxing. Ahrden could feel the enemies becoming even slower and slower as they too started losing their warmth. The spell took a toll on Ahrden, and as a result, he suffered several minor cuts. Still, he kept it going until a wild swing from a tall and broad-shouldered soldier went unnoticed by him, and the sharp blade cut through his leather clothes and slashed open his flesh.
Ahrden cried out from both pain and surprise and quickly change tactics, just as numerous other attacks were coming in. The blades in his hands disappeared, and he instead formed a small dome around him, which flared brightly as it blocked the incoming attacks. Ahrden said out loud the incantation as he formed an arcane ball of energy between his palms under the shelter of his dome. After a point, Ahrden let go of feeding the shield with more arcane and solely concentrated on the growing explosive. The shield almost immediately started cracking under the heavy swings from the soldiers around it. Just before his protection gave away, Ahrden pushed one last burst of power into the arcane bomb and teleported out of there.
The explosion was spectacular. The overwhelming deep blue drowned out all other colours as it lit up the entire white fog and bounced off every single raindrop making the display even more breath-taking. Soldiers and parts of soldiers were flying everywhere, with blood covering everyone who stood further back. The rain quickly washed the soldiers clean but did little spreading cracks in their confidence. The power Ahrden had unleased was something none had ever witnessed, and it dearly shook their otherwise hardened minds. The only comforting thought that the soldiers had was that the explosion was caused by the destruction of the mage himself since he was gone along with everyone who stood near the dome. Ahrden could even hear a few weak cheers coming from the ones who were further back, but their losses were already too great to be cheering over this victory over one man. In that moment it was lost on everyone that Ahrden was able to teleport.
The cuts Ahrden had suffered were all over his body, and since he was still not used to having such injures, all seemed very deep and painful to him. He was able to stop the bleeding of the ones which seemed graver than the rest, but he didn't have time to attend to the others. Ahrden knew that he still had some fight in him, but he needed what came next to be the end of the battle or else it wouldn't end on his terms. He had made a mere dent in the army, but after they thought the mage dead, they showed no sign of wanting to turn back. What Ahrden needed to do now was to convince the soldiers that they couldn't even fathom how much more destruction he was capable of and that he was ready to utterly wipe them all out if they remained to fight him. In reality, the best he could hope to do was a spectacular show with some casualties.
After teleporting Ahrden in front of the approaching army but he needed time and concentration for what he was about to attempt, so he did his best not to call the enemy's attention towards him until it was unavoidable. He started chanting another spell with a low voice, raising his arms high into the sky then slowly lowering them so his open palms were facing the enemy. The first change that came was the sound in the clearing, and everybody noticed it. The rain had been beating down hard, as a unanimous sound, but something came to challenge it. A strange cracking sound was spreading across the clearing, which reminded most of the soldiers of the creaking of the snow under their boots. When the sound was present at every corner of the clearing, the rain changed too as if to react to this other displaced sound. The fine sound of the splashing of the individual water drops, which added up to be a full orchestra, started becoming ever rougher as if the water no longer wanted to simply splash down onto the ground to then flow away peacefully but instead hit the ground as a solid object.
After the strange creaking sound and the shifting sound of the rain, everything happened fast, and things became abundantly clear for everyone. With nothing to split his concentration on Ahrden scaled up his previous freezing spell to levels that spread across the entire clearing. He sucked out every bit of heat from the air and the rain and fed it with cold that was created by the arcane energies. As a result, the air temperature was dropping fast, the rain became hail, hitting the mailed armour of the soldiers hard, and the mud under their feet was turning rock solid and not just in an areas, but in the entire clearing. Due to a common sixth sense that signalled everyone when large amounts of arcane powers were being used in the close vicinity, everyone felt where the origin of the change was. When the soldiers turned to look, an initial shock swept through them about how the mage had indeed survive, but a piercing war cry made them all recover fast, and they wasted no more time to charge at him. Ahrden fed his spell with more power and directed it towards the ones who were nearing him.
Pain and disbelief formed on the faces of the charging soldiers as they felt the cold eat through all of their defences with unnatural speed and bite into their very flesh. With weapons raised, the charge slowed, albite not from the lack of effort from the soldiers' side, because they could do nothing to prevent themselves from eventually coming to a halt. The attackers still lived, they weren't frozen to the core, but they were on the way to be. The ones further back still had the ability to move, but the unforgiving cold quickly reached them too, and their movement reacted to it immediately.
Ahrden kept the spell going with his left hand while he gathered more energy with his right. Once he had enough, he released it with a sweeping motion at the soldiers closest to him. When the cascading wave of blue arcane power hit its targets, they reacted in a way no one expected them to. Most of the stationary soldiers instantly shattered to bits and pieces as if they were no more than ice statues, while the ones further back simply tipped backwards and suffered the same fate once they hit the frozen ground. When the soldiers at the front were all dead, the ones further back became the front row. Their main issue was that they didn't understand what they were up against, they saw no way to counter this form of attack. They believed that there was nothing they could do against Ahrden so they wanted to flee, but the cold had already claimed them by then, and the wave of arcane that greeted them in the next moment sealed their fate to be the same as the ones before them.
The ones behind them could still back away from the swiftly spreading cold, and they wasted no time to do so. None looked back, none dared to even slow until they collapsed from exhaustion hours later.
Ahrden was left alone at the edge of the clearing with no friends or foes to be seen. Hail was slowly becoming rain again, turning the solid mud soft and the thawing remains of the dead soldiers started spreading the fresh scent of death across the clearing. Ahrden felt mollified, knowing that the ones he saved would surely be dead by now if he had not come, but the carnage he had unleashed in achieving this was something he wished he could have avoided. Anger, discipline and determination guided him in the process, but guilt and sorrow were all he was left with now.
Ahrden felt drained and exhausted. He could barely stay conscious. He needed to get out of here, but in his current state, the task wasn't without its risk. This hesitation caused his fatigue to overtake him, and in the next moment, he unconsciously collapsed as his legs buckled under him. His body could finally relax as he slept in a deep and dreamless slumber.
---
Ahrden awoke by opening his eyes. He felt shivers go down his spine when he didn't recognize his surroundings. He was immediately alert, not feeling even the slightest bit of tiredness anymore, but he still remained unmoving. He didn't feel bound, nor did he feel pain, but after focusing for just a moment, he could tell that someone was close by. It was late at night, and the sky was pitch black with no moon to provide lighting, yet he could see dancing shadows on the trunk of the trees in front of him as he remained lying on his side. Moments later, he started registering the cracking of the fire behind him, and he could even feel the warmth of it on his back.
Ahrden remained motionless, speculating that if he survived this long, he definitely had a few more seconds which would be ample time for him to prepare himself for whatever was waiting for him. Now, he focused again, reaching out with his senses to better understand his surroundings. He could feel the location of the campfire, which was small and modest and around it sat only one person. No matter how much further he reached, he could not feel anyone else around them. Ahrden was contemplating between an offensive move or simply teleporting out of there, but something about that aura of the person felt vaguely familiar, so he went back and concentrated on it again to find out as much as he could.
Ahrden wanted to blame his current circumstance for the fact that he needed to check a third time to recognize Alia's presence, but it didn't seem a viable enough reason. Knowing that he was most likely not capture or in danger, he wanted to just turn around and sit up, but Alia's voice was faster.
'Are you going to get up, or you'll just keep pretending to be asleep?'
Ahrden smiled as he heard the rogue's familiar melodic voice. He doubted that anyone but she would have noticed his imperceptibly subtle movements, but it was she who was sitting by the fire after all. Ahrden sat up and rubbed his tired face, which picked up the shape of the earth upon which he slept, along with most of the leaves and twigs. He felt better but still drained and doubted that he could fend off any serious threats in this state. He turned towards the fire and saw the lean form of Alia as she was sitting on a rock by the fire, holding two sticks over the flames, which each had a rabbit skewed on it. The fire played a special dance on the face of the rogue as she smiled with those delicate lips in the otherwise cold and harsh evening. The sight was nothing short of welcoming, but Ahrden tried hard not to show it on his face.
'Greetings, Alia.'
'Greetings, mage.'
Ahrden would have preferred to hear Alia say his name but then thought about how rare this last sentence must have been in the Valley. He couldn't help but smile at it, while acknowledging that he probably wouldn't have missed such an opportunity either even if it meant to use the formal way of greeting the other. He got up, walked to the fire and sat down opposite to Alia.
'Did you sleep well?'
'I could have used a pillow; didn't you bring any?'
This came so unexpectedly that Alia's mouth curved into a smile.
'How long was I out?' Ahrden asked.
'Well, I'm not entirely sure...'
'Do your best.'
'Yesterday noon, I was informed about the battle, and I was sent here to investigate. When I arrived, only you breathed at the scene, which by the way, requires explaining on its own. I tried to wake you, but nothing would work.'
One and a half day, Ahrden thought to himself. He lay on the ground for one and a half day. The fact that his recklessness caused him to be exposed to all kinds of danger for this long terrified him. Alia must have arrived not long after the battle was over. Next time he probably won't have her to look over his unconscious body, so he mustn't do something so foolish again.
'You were sent to investigate the battle alone?'
'I'm almost a master rogue, but I've already surpassed many with that title. You doubt I couldn't handle a simple investigation?'
Alia's answer felt so defensive that it only confirmed Ahrden's initial suspicions. He was glad to have read so much about basic and advanced tactics and how different nations handled certain situations.
'Of course not. It's just that this was a battle between the only two nations which weren't your own, meaning that the outcome and especially the details of it was more than important to know for your nation to estimate the current strength of the two enemy nations. You are known to have the best rogues in the Valley, and with all those skilful scouts to spare, I found it strange that your leaders would…'
'I led a small party,' Alia admitted looking at the food as if she needed to check it.
'Where are they now?' Ahrden asked and looked around briefly, knowing that the other rogues were long gone.
'I sent them back.'
'What did they think of me?'
'They haven't noticed you,' Alia replied, and when she looked up and saw the questioningly smiling face of Ahrden, she let out a loud sigh.
Alia was brilliant, but for Ahrden his mind was everything. She accepted her defeat and explain what had really happened.
'We arrived at the scene, and I immediately recognized that magic was done here. I made them stay behind so that I could check if any danger was still present. As I suspected, you bit off more than you could chew, and I hid your unconscious body. After we gathered all the information that we wanted to, I sent the party back, and I remained here with you. Now you can either take a skewer and eat, or I might just regret doing what I did.'
Ahrden felt a comforting warmth inside him after hearing what Alia did for him. It filled him with sincere joy. He no longer tried to hide how blissful he was about seeing her, but he could not ignore the other side of the coin. This unfortunate situation was saved by the lone rogue from the Nethedral nation, but only by her. The people Ahrden saved, the soldiers that lived because of him… Not even Ferdan cared to come back for him. What he had achieved was beyond anyone's comprehension, yet he had not received the most basic sign of care in return. Ahrden couldn't and didn't want to spin the situation until it looked a little better; he instead tried to concentrate on the present.
Besides Alia's presence there was something else he craved equally, and that was the skewer she was extending towards him. With a move of his wrist, he floated the skewer towards him. At first, all Alia noticed was that the stick was leaving her grasp, and she worriedly tried to grab after it as it was about to fall to the ground. Only a moment later did she see what was really happening and when she did, she sat back with a soft grunt, annoyed how much the scene had amused Ahrden.
'Thank you. For everything,' Ahrden said, and he took a large bite out of the rabbit, which tasted magnificent.
'You can take another bite, but after that, you better start explaining what had happened before you eat the rest,' Alia said with pretended seriousness that made the edges of Ahrden's mouth almost touch his two ears.
By the time Ahrden was done telling Alia the events that led up to his collapse on the ground, they had both finished eating their dinner and were now just looking either into the flames or at each other.
'So, you can single-handedly turn the tides of an entire battle.'
'Yes. Because no one knows what I'm actually capable of, and I can convince them that I'm able to do more than I actually can.'
'It's incredible,' Alia admitted.
'And regarding the future, I do believe that Karthesta Malitez intends to wipe out both of our nations and against him our people must unite to even have a fighting chance.'
'But you know that it's not going to happen.'
'It will. Because it has to.'
'Yet, it won't.'
'I don't ask you to fight for it, but when the time comes, I would love to have you supporting the notion.'
'Trust me; I will not be the one to oppose the union. I will leave that to everyone else.'
'Thank you. For everything,' Ahrden said. 'Can I offer you a means to get home quickly?'
After a moment of hesitation, Alia nodded her head.
'That would be lovely.'
Ahrden clenched his fist along with murmuring a minor incantation, and the fire died out in a second, with not even smoke coming out of the ash and coal that remained. Ahrden stepped in the middle of the now cold fireplace that made Alia look down in surprise. When she looked up, she saw the extended hand of Ahrden, and she gently placed hers into his. Ahrden closed his hand around the rogue's feeling the soft yet strong fingers before he teleported them out of there.
The jump surprised Alia, but she hid it the best she could. When they materialized, she smiled at the fact that they were now standing on her balcony.
'I feel violated about how freely you can move in and out of my own home while I haven't even seen yours.'
'And I feel violated that you are not wearing the necklace that I gave you.'
To his biggest shock, Alia reached under her clothes and pulled out the necklace with the shining medallion on it.
'I never took it off.'
'How? I didn't feel it.'
'You can feel it when I want you to feel it; the rest of the time, you need to hustle to get to me,' Alia smiled, obviously proud to have beaten Ahrden at his own game. 'Go now, before I throw you off.'
Ahrden took a few steps back while he concentrated on the medallion. He could vaguely feel it now, but something was hiding it from his senses. After focusing on it more, he detected that it was a special oil which coated the gem that had such qualities to hide it from his arcane senses.
Alia saw him fixated on the medallion, trying to work out how she was hiding it from him, so she quickly put away the jewellery. Ahrden teleported up at the fence of the balcony.
'You still never signalled.'
Alia looked down at her feet.
'Things… Came up.'
'You hide it from me and don't even use it. I might want it back,' Ahrden said the words with aching heart.
Alia looked up now with genuine worry in her beautiful eyes. Before she could respond Ahrden spoke again.
'Until next time,' Ahrden said as those green eyes pierced him.
He let himself fall backwards with his body remaining straight. He waited to completely disappear under the balcony before teleporting out of there. Alia rushed to the fence, but when she looked down, he was already gone.