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Warchief's head felt heavy as he dragged his body down the many steps that connected his bedroom to the exercise field below. Every time his feet hit the stonework, an echoing vibration seemed to spread through his being, causing him to curse at Crystal.
The sleeping potion had done its job, but its side effects were just as potent. Giving him a headache and making him feel weak. He partially suspected the healer of intentionally making it that way, just out of spite. Warchief could almost hear her say that he would just have to find help, so he wouldn't need her potions anymore.
The thought made him snort as he continued his way down the four levels of stairs. Careful not to slip on any of the moss-covered steps and avoiding touching the heavily engraved banisters.
Not to spare their detailed ornamentation of any damage, but because he feared they would crumble at his slightest touch. To the horror of his elven teachers, he had never cared much for history, preferring to focus his attention on the present.
When he had come to this place, Crystal had often grumbled to him about how the resistance had desecrated the shelter by adapting its structures to suit their needs. While he understood her concerns, he couldn't help but think that worrying about such things was pointless. Time would move forward and with no people to maintain the underground city, it would disappear as everything and everyone does.
As he let his hands glide over the wall, he could feel the magic crystals embedded within that once powered the spells which kept the building pristine. With no magicians to charge them, they were now nothing more than beautiful but empty husks.
Finally reaching the end of the seemingly ever-spiraling staircase, he paused to catch his breath. He felt more winded than he should have and wondered how he was going to train others in this state. Grasping for his drinking flask, he hoped to dissipate the cotton feeling in his mouth with water. Only to realize that he had forgotten to fill it before coming down the stairs.
It is going to be one of those days...
He was tempted to go back upstairs and sleep the day away, but he knew his men were waiting for him and sighed deeply before forcing himself to go outside. As he opened the door, he was greeted by the dim glow of the lueur moss around him. For once he was grateful to be beneath ground as he didn't have to suffer the bright sunlight while recovering from his headache.
Entering the exercise field, he wasn't greeted with the usual remarks on his lateness. Instead, it was unusually quiet and he noticed a slight tension in the air from the men. He frowned as he looked around until he saw the source of their discomfort. Lidea was sitting at the side of the field. Still dressed in his clothes, although they seemed to fit her better this time. Warchief presumed that Crystal had resorted to pinning or maybe even sewing the pieces to help her out. However, it was her hair that was the most noticeable change to him. Yesterday it had still been a matted mess, but now it was plaided in a long braid that reached the ground. He couldn't help but think it was a rather unpractical choice to keep her hair this long, and not one he would have expected from what he had learned of her so far.
Aside from the young woman sat Crystal, who had chosen to wear trousers for once which was peculiar as she normally only wore them while traveling. She had a grumpy look on her face and Warchief couldn't help but grin at her annoyance. It was rare to see the healer lose in a battle of stubbornness.
"I see that your guardian has allowed you to come?"
A smug smile appeared on Lidea's face as the healer's seemed to became more sour.
"We made a compromise. I don't train but I do get to attend the sessions."
She sounded complacent and Warchief had a hard time not laughing, even though Crystal was sending him a murderous glare.
"It is good to have you here."
Before he brought the wrath of the half-demoness further onto himself, he decided to focus on the job at hand. Turning towards the men that were supposed to become the core of his army, his grin grew wider. It wasn't going to be easy, but luckily for them, he liked a challenge.
"Alright, guys. Stop acting as if you have never seen a woman before, it is time for practice."
A mixture of laughter and embarrassment raced throughout the group, but his remark had caused all attention to turn to him and broke the tension as intended. He suspected that it would take some time for them to warm up to Lidea's presence. It wasn't dissimilar to how Crystal and him were received after their arrival. They were all seen as outsiders. Crystal and Warchief due to them being foreigners, and Lidea because she was a magicless noble.
"As by popular demand yesterday, I thought to do some sparring today. Pair up, everyone."
He saw how Samson shot a triumphant grin to Lidea. He was the youngest of the group and was the one that always asked him about doing sparring matches. Even though he wasn't any good at them.
For a moment he wondered if he should confess that it was his headache that had saved them from another session of exercises and not their complaining. He thought the better of it before they got the bright idea of spiking his drinks with alcohol to avoid stamina practice.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lidea's disapproval even from the other side of the field. In contrast, Crystal's frown had turned into a sadistic smile indicating that she knew exactly why he didn't feel like doing any exercises.
Scary woman.
As the men formed their usual pairs, Warchief walked between them. Paying more attention than before to their current abilities. Which were very much lacking, which he had already known and was to be expected. However, their attitude didn't reflect that fact. As Lidea had rightly pointed out, they believed themselves to win based on the fact that they had magic. It didn't matter, that most of them had barely trained their talents.
Warchief knew that their arrogance was born from ignorance. If they had seen what the average magic holder outside of Lynoës was capable of, he was sure that they would hold a different opinion of themselves. Among the elves, he had met some that were truly proficient in magic, and he could confidently state that none of them would stand a chance against someone like that. That statement included himself, as he had barely any grip on his own powers and wouldn't pretend otherwise.
Wandering his eyes from one man to another, he knew that he had to somehow make them realize how incapable they were. Just telling them wouldn't do, they had to experience it to truly make them understand how unprepared they were for a real battle. Even one against magicless people.
The question was how. It wasn't like he had any skilled magicians running around and he himself was the only skilled swordsman in the camp. He considered sparring with them one on one but knew that it wouldn't give him the effect he wanted. After all, he was their leader, it was only natural that he was highly skilled. It might even worsen their false confidence, as they could inflate his abilities based on the assumption that they themselves were powerful as well.
He glanced wistfully at Lidea, if only she had been in a better state. Though he wasn't sure of how capable she was, he had heard that her father was a good swordsman. Something he was inclined to believe as you didn't just go from being a soldier to leading the royal guard without any talent. Well unless you got the position through familial ties but that didn't seem to be the case for him. It would be interesting to see what she had retained from his teachings and Warchief didn't doubt that she was able to best his men. It would have been a perfect way to make them realize their limitations, and push them into picking up their slack. However, that was not an option for at least another couple of months if he had to believe Crystal.
As he watched another match end in only a couple of hits, he couldn't help but close his eyes in frustration. Pinching the bridge of his nose, as if that would give him an answer on how to shape these civilians into a fighting force. He would have to find a way soon because as it stood now, the royal army would demolish them.
After training ended, Warchief pulled a notebook out of his pocket and dropped himself down on the sand. Thinking through what he had seen during sparring, he started dividing them into two groups. Those who wouldn't know their sword from their arse went to one side, while those with at least some potential went to the other. Once done, he looked at the names with a frown. Of the roughly two hundred men, he had only found five to have at least some potential.
With a sigh, he forced himself to look again through the names of those he had deemed hopeless. While he tried to divide the bad from the less bad, he could hear someone approach from behind him. Looking over his shoulder in confusion, he saw Lidea who was looking over his shoulder to read his notes. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed her before and wondered where Crystal had gone.
She tended to be overprotective of her charges and Warchief couldn't believe that she had willingly left the young woman alone.
"Is Cedric the guy with the scar on his arm?"
Drawing his attention back to her, he could now see that her hair wasn't just long. It was extremely long, as the braid reached the mid of her thighs. It looked greasy and he recognized the typical lavender scent that Crystal liked to use in her products. He deduced that the healer had made something to untangle it. Though he wondered if it hadn't been easier to chop it all off.
"Is he?"
One steel-grey eye looked at him, seemingly judging him in silence as Warchief scrambled to collect his thoughts and answer her question.
"Scar on his arm... I am not sure. He has brown hair, a bit shorter than me."
"Yes, scar on his arm. Walks a bit crooked, and has a tick of laughing nervously. If it is him, you should put him in the group with talent."
He frowned as he looked back at the name she was talking about. Trying to think what made her say so with such confidence if she had only seen the man practice for two days.
Also, how had she even known what he was doing? Before he got the chance to ask, she gingerly came to sit beside him. Her legs trembled slightly, hinting at the toll that yesterday's practice had taken on her body.
Concerned, he once again tried to find where Crystal had gone.
"My chaperone is bringing me something to eat and drink before I have to go up that hill again."
"May I?"
She pointed at the book and Warchief offered it to her without thinking, intrigued by what she was planning to do. Reaching over him, she grabbed his pencil as well and started to write numbers next to each of the names. Turning the page, she then started to draw faces.
At first, Warchief thought her idea to draw them was a waste of time. The chance that he would recognize anyone from a drawing was minimal. That was until he notices how thorough they were. He wouldn't have stated her drawings to be beautiful, yet they did accurately pinpoint the outstanding features of each of his men. Making him able to identify them, even before she wrote down their name.
He was astounded. Many would be able to draw in similar quality, or even better. But to be able to memorize each of their faces in such detail, while having seen them for only a short time, was remarkable.
"How...?"
He could see some amusement in her eye, the other unseen by him as it was still covered by the bindings around her face.
"I had nothing more to do than watch. So I paid attention and learned about them what I could. You were watching them fight and grading them, so I assumed that you wanted to assess their skill level."
Warchief had heard that she was a genius. Gossip in town had made her seem greater than life, their own legendary fighter. He had always assumed those rumors to be exaggerated. That she had learned to fight from the best and had been able to survive thanks to the help of her father's right-hand man. The adjunct general of the royal army would have been a man to reckon with.
Now he started to wonder, how much truth there actually was in those rumors.
"You are correct. Seems like you know better what the men look like than me. Some of them I wouldn't have even known."
She only nodded as she was too focused on the list he had made. Not mocking his lack of knowledge, and not boosting about her own.
"Why did you want me to move Cedric?"
Lidea didn't look up from the paper as she circled another couple of names.
"He has a good work attitude, he just has no clue what he is doing. Besides, he has good balance."
Although Warchief had seen his balance, he had not thought to include him as he did not have the time to teach the man from the basics up.
"But if he has no idea, then shouldn't he stay in the less experienced group?"
Lidea shook her head at that.
"Depends on the person, if he is willing to learn he can benefit from being surrounded by people who know better than him. It is easier to learn if you can simply mimic the examples of others"
She paused for a moment and her cheeks turned a slight red.
"Sorry, I didn't plan to interfere in your training..."
Warchief waived her concerns away and thought over her advice. There was no harm in following her suggestions. If they didn't work out, he could simply swap them again on a later date.
"Honestly, I could use the help. Why don't you divide them according to what you think? We can then reassess how they progressed in a couple of weeks. Does that sound good to you?"
A smile brightened her face as she nodded. Warchief suspected that the young woman was bored and needed something to keep her occupied. If that were the case, he would gladly accept her assistance. Although he knew how to fight, he had never been part of an army as she had been. He wouldn't be surprised if he could learn a thing or two from her. Also, if she felt involved with the training, there was a higher chance that she would stay. Though he didn't expect her to go anyway. Just like he couldn't abandon the people around him, neither could she.
"Warchief, can I ask something?"
She had paused her writing to look at him. The sincerity of her tone, made him perk up. He knew that whatever she wanted to ask would need him to pay attention. Still, he couldn't keep himself from smiling.
"You already did. But yes, go on."
He could almost see her thinking over how to ask her question but waited patiently until it finally spilled out.
"How did you save me? I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time. Probably because of the smoke. But the executioner was right there and my trial pyre stood in the middle of the Grand Market surrounded by hundreds of people. I can't wrap my brain around how you managed to get me out. Did you pay off that guard?"
He had expected her to question his actions. Maybe not as soon, but he was rapidly learning that Lidea seemed to do everything faster than he expected her to. It did surprise him when she talked about the guard, and he wondered what had happened to make her think so.
"I know of no guard, so whatever happened with him was not my doing. As to how I saved you. It is simple really. I joined the crowd and waited at the front. Planning to use my magic to extinguish the flames and get you off that platform. The smoke due to the wet wood was a boon. Else I fear that it would have cost more soldiers' lives. As it stands, it was only the executioner that got killed but after what he did to your face, I don't feel too bad about it."
She looked at him intensely and nodded in understanding but he could almost see her toying with the next question and before she uttered a word, he sighed.
He raised the hand closest to her and held it flat in the air with his palm turned upward. Concentrating, he felt the energy flow through his body and rush towards his hand where it sparked a small flame burning bright orange.
"I extinguished the flames as I have an affinity for its element."
For a moment he could see terror flash in her eyes and he cursed himself as he dampened the flame. He should have known better than to show off his power to a girl who was traumatized by fire.
"Could you do that again?"
Warchief looked up in surprise at Lidea whose fear had disappeared as fast as it had come. Looking at her for a moment, he tried to find any hints of her being scared but couldn't find them. Holding his palm up, he lighted the flame once again and this time, he only saw fascination in her eye.
He let her stare as she wanted, but stopped her when she reached for it. Gaining him an annoyed look.
"I wasn't going to touch it, I just wanted to see if the warmth was the same as with a normal flame."
Warchief felt the corners of his mouth tip up until he was grinning at her. Her childish fascination intrigued him and he wondered what it was like to live a life in which you were not aware of magic. He wished he could have had such a life.
"You have a mouth, just ask. I don't like the idea of you burning yourself on my fire."
She barely seemed to mind him as she still stared at the flame. For a moment he expected her to try and touch it again, but she halted her hand before she did so.
"Can you control its temperature? Or its shape? How does it know not to burn you? Are you invincible to all fire?"
As her wonder died down, the dam on her mouth broke and a rapid spitfire of questions stumbled out. He held up a hand to pause her and give him time to respond before she continued.
"I can control the temperature and shape, but admittingly I am not very good at it. No, I don't burn myself, but not because I am invincible. Fire can still hurt me if it takes me off guard, but normally my body bends it before I even notice that it is there. I suppose in the same way that you don't actively think to breathe, I don't think about bending fire when it comes near me. It is an instinct."
Her eyes were still locked onto the flame which he brightened and dampened to make his point. He hadn't lied when he stated that his skills were limited, but bending a little flame was a thing even a child would be able to do.
"I think I get it. So does everyone here have magic like that? I didn't see Crystal use any magic while she was healing me."
It still took Warchief by surprise, how little the people of Lynoës seemed to know about the world outside of its borders. Even in the other southern countries, most people would have known the basics of how magic worked. However, when he arrived here, he quickly learned that this wasn't the case in this back-water land. Even the magic-holders themselves barely knew anything.
How could Lynoës have gone from a prospering world power to a country in which its citizens barely knew how to read and write? All in roughly fifty years. Not even one human's lifespan.
"Yes everyone here holds magic, except for Crystal I suppose. Although she does, but not in the traditional sense. Magic as you imagine rarely occurs in other races than humans and is often hereditary. As her human father did not hold magic, she doesn't either. But her mother was a demoness, which is one of the magical races. So she is still more sensitive to magic than normal humans would be."
He stopped himself before revealing too much. Even though he didn't expect Lidea to have any bad intentions, he would rather not spread information within the camp that could endanger Crystal. Or more likely, endanger his men. Frankly, he believed the demoness would have no issues taking them on if they tried anything.
Lidea didn't seem to notice his abrupt stop, seemingly lost in her own mind. As she had lost interest, he took the chance to dampen his flame. Her excitement had suddenly disappeared and left her looking deflated. He couldn't pinpoint why her mood had changed so suddenly.
"Is something wrong?"
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