Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

*   *   *

In summer, every colour but brown covered the Northeastern Meadows, as flowers would bloom in every direction and there were few trees. The sun shone brightly in the blue sky, and clouds travelled past, while cooling breezes played with seeds and petals. The spring could be nearly as colourful, with early spring flowers dotting the young grass of the hills, with the trees blossoming. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

However, autumn had arrived in the province, and the landscape had turned bland-looking, covered in a colour of hay. The few reddened trees were like flickering flames in the wind when seen at a distance. The dead grass, as far as one could see, did little to protect one from the chilling autumn wind and rainy weather.

It was still not too cold to bear, but far too cold to be comfortable. At night, my breath turned to mist rising upward, reaching toward the stars and moons but dispersing before long. The further west I travelled over the Meadows, the colder it became, with winter approaching quickly each day. On this day, the autumn sun hid behind clouds while the wind took the opportunity to play with gusts at random intervals between the periods with an otherwise calm, though cold, breeze, and the day felt chilly.

At the Temple, they raised me to always walk calmly, showing the inner peace of those devoted to the God. Too ingrained to cast away unless absolutely necessary, I still took hurried steps along the dirt road stretching between Eastriver and Seatown. While my duty certainly required some rush, the pace also allowed me to keep warmer.

As I got closer to Rivergreen Valley, I saw a man come my way over a hill. Even at a distance, I could see he carried a small shield and a sword, his attire expensive, but the brown shades were not ones that one would call valuable or say have any class. While his clothes had surely seen better days, the leather and wool the man wore had been well taken care of.

It wasn’t difficult to understand what he was; I didn’t doubt he was a hero. I’d meet them every so often on my travels.

‘Hero’ sounds rather extravagant when compared to the reality of the occupation. Commonfolk bore the title when employed to do anything from delivering wine to exterminating monsters. Most youths took that path when they reached adulthood at fifteen, but the first few years usually involved training. ¹

He walked alone with his gaze lowered and with a slight hunch. His bulging muscles showed a strength that came from many years of experience, which made it all the more peculiar that he travelled alone. Heroes choose to travel in company because of the many dangers they face. To be without company, when many missions involved fighting beasts and monsters would be odd for anyone but those like myself.

There was, of course, the possibility that he had lost his friends and grieved. I couldn’t exclude that possibility. The air around him was certainly too serious for someone travelling for pleasure as well.

If so, I will offer him the God’s blessing, if he dares to speak with me.

Perhaps he noticed me, as he lifted his gaze and he laid his eye on me. It took but a moment to see that the smile told me he wasn’t grieving anything or anybody.

Never mind. The People should grieve this man’s existence.

As the man judged my appearance with a glance, I saw his eyes fill with a kind of hunger no meal could satisfy. He reminded me of a dog² seated by a butcher, mouth watering while hoping to get anything for its meal. Willing to steal the moment the butcher looked away; ready to run off with anything a customer may drop.

And, unfortunately, I had become this filthy mongrel’s piece of meat.

I straightened up to my full height — though I never did slouch, or Master would not have let me outside — and walked with the confidence any Follower of the Path should have when stepping on the lands blessed by the God.

I hoped it would deter him. It often did.

Yet, when I tried to walk past him without so much as a nod, he took a sidestep and effectively stopped me.

I glared down into his dark brown eyes. Up close he reminded me even more of a lordless mutt³ terrorising the calm hills and meadows of the Priestdom, his short hair as wild as the dogs he reminded me of.

The cloak I wore covered me from my shoulders to the ground. It had been designed in such ways to ensure no one would see my body, yet gave me enough room to move. The grey fabric was thin, and could almost seem translucent at times, though that was certainly not the case.

The devotees of the God considered it a sin to see my body. Therefore, I chose not to tempt anyone. 

To be quite honest, though, I fear my appearance did tempt people, but that was not my choice to make.

On the other hand, it was my cloak that gave away who I was. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say what I was.

“My pleasure and well met, my fair dear,” he greeted me with a vulgar smile.

I strained to keep my calm, as an instinct to plant my fist in his stomach ignited in my heart. Though I was patient in my youth, this man truly got on my nerves the moment I saw him.

“It is a delightful afternoon, hero,” I replied, barely keeping my hostility beneath the surface. I solely wished this stranger would disappear and never reappear in front of my eyes again.

Unfortunately, Master taught me manners, so I unwillingly greeted the man, no matter how much I already had come to loathe him.

“You’re a mage, aren’t you? How about you join me in my quest?” he asked and moved closer, putting his hand on my hip.

Goosebumps immediately crawled over my skin like bugs. To claim this man was too friendly was an understatement, and I certainly wished him dead at that moment.

Yet, again, unfortunately I had been taught manners, and I remained still.

“My party has an archer with a sharp aim. I’m sure she’ll enjoy having another woman coming with us.”

Poor woman.

While I studied his face, a cold tingle pricked my skin, as if ice crystals were forming on it. It grew deeper and turned into a slight pulse beneath my skin as the chill took over. Soon I felt as if I might as well be frozen to my very core, though it wasn’t an unpleasant sort of sensation.

“So what may I call you?”

I smiled. The man beamed in return, getting a little closer to me, perhaps to get a better feel. The pleased expression told me more than enough.

He caught a mage. And it wasn’t just any mage who could do some minor magic. It was an Elemental Mage. A beautiful woman he surely could have his way with.

The pleasant icy feeling ran down my spine. My cloak parted and soon followed a pained groan as my knee hit its target.

“In accordance with the Contract,

Will of the God, Spirits of the World,

Hear my plea.

Frozen Water, obey me!”

The air stirred as if distressed by the man on the ground holding his groin. I stared at him as ice crystals formed a thin layer over his skin, armour and clothing.

The next moment, they began melting, and he shivered as the crystals left droplets of water behind. I would have felt sorry for the man if I had been able to, but I simply gave him what he deserved.

Incidents similar to this happened to me frequently, in some form or other, ever since I became an Elemental Mage for the Path. Some strange hero would try to ‘flatter’ me into his party, no matter what I said. Occasionally they were women, too, even if that was uncommon. Some were more pleasant than others, though each of them were a nuisance. What’s more, I could make a relatively accurate assumption of their origin based on their approach. Those of the Central Priestdom were always the most forward. In a sense, this man even showed some tactfulness.

I had heard the rumours that Elemental Mages were easy targets, which was ironic considering their magical aptitude. Naturally, their thoughts weren’t primarily about skills in  magic when they spoke of Elemental Mages as ‘easy’.

Occasionally, some would try to bribe me or even assault me — poor souls — to get me to ‘join’.

I could only tolerate so many strangers approaching me with that sole purpose. Before I left the Temple, I had pledged my body, heart and soul to the God. I differed in that regard from other Battle Mages.⁴ 

I stepped past him to continue on my journey and threw him a few parting words. “May the God cleanse your filthy soul.”

Before I had time to leave, I heard steps behind me. When I turned, I saw a woman jogging toward me.

She carried a bow strapped to her back, and a quiver filled with common arrows at the hip. With light leather armour, she had great mobility. The air around her gave off a sense of steadfast calm, and I surmised she was a little older than the man I had just brought to the ground.

Either she’ll be thankful, or she’ll be furious.

She gave the man a disapproving glare before she let her gaze travel upward. While she no longer glared, her gold eyes examined my appearance from the ground up, taking in every detail. Not that she saw much, other than my cloak covered in various symbols and distorted images that meant nothing to her. Her eyes stopped for a moment at the gold necklace decorated with hundreds of tiny figures, before her gaze travelled to the earrings symbolising the seven elements. I saw curiosity and awe mixed with caution as she saw my long blond hair and blue eyes.

Her face softened into an apologetic smile when our eyes met.

“I’m so sorry about this fool. He always tries to recruit pretty women to our party. He’s been like this since we created our two-man party a few years ago.”

She laughed brightly as her ‘friend’ stood up. I moved away from him and maintained a safe distance.

“Are you perhaps the Mage Goddess? Or... the Sage, even?”

She looked at me expectantly, while I wanted nothing more than to be left alone. I still had to get to Midport, and travel to the North Kingdom from there.

“No, I’m just your everyday mage.”

Word travels faster than the traveller; that much is common sense. However, when word about me travelled across the Continent, the stories never shared my name. Instead, they used one of many names the commonfolk chose to call me. They gave me whichever name they saw fit, and many I couldn’t understand.

I couldn’t complain, as they were better than my official title, which made me painfully aware that I differed from those I met. Reminded me of things I rather not think of, even though I couldn’t run away from them. Mocked me for my birth.

“Your kind is not anyone’s everyday mage, Servant.”

I held back the urge to grimace, frozen in place in the effort to not show my dissatisfaction.

“Perhaps not for you, but I’m my everyday.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glanced at the filth she had as a companion. “I was certain the Sage was the only Servant in the area right now.”

“There have been many rumours of the Mage Goddess moving about the North-Central Continent too.”

“But those aren’t recent, are they?”

They’re both me, though.

“That aside, can’t a mage travel the world?” I asked dryly.

The archeress’s eyebrows shot up. “By yourself?”

I instinctively turned to look at her companion. His kind was my biggest threat, and I handled those just fine. A knee to the groin, an elbow to the chest, or some minor spell usually kept them away if they got too close once.

I threw a glance at the woman, before I turned to continue on my journey without so much as a farewell.

*   *   *

As I reached the peak of a smaller mountain near Rivergreen Valley some hours later, the wind took hold of my cloak, pulling at it. I touched my left shoulder to ensure I had secured it properly, unwilling to lose the only protection I had against the cold gusts fighting to take it away.

I tasted the smell of rotten fish and sea water as I observed Seatown still far off in the distance, a few days’ travel away. I planned to swiftly pass through to reach the next town over, and from there travel over sea.

While Seatown was a lively town with a decently sized port, with much cheer and visiting foreigners, large ships couldn’t move about the nearby waters. Stories told that a mage many centuries ago had petrified giant water snakes terrorising the area. They formed the northern and southern mountain chains of Rivergreen Valley, and the hills surrounding Seatown. And even now, these giant stone snakes made the waters treacherous as the rocky hills reached into the sea. Even the locals remained near the shore, not sailing past the underwater rocks.

Naturally, Seatown’s only resource was fishing. Not that it meant the town was poor. Seatown also had its fame, though only fairly locally and among merchants visiting the coast of the Central Priestdom. The smoked fish was particularly popular in Eastriver but also considered a rare delicacy, as it was difficult to keep fresh until it reached the town.

Another freezing gust grabbed at my cloak with its sharp claws, tugging at it, and obstructed my vision by playing with my hair. The chilly autumn air now had an opportunity to sneak in underneath the cloak, and took it with mischievous glee. 

The cold air turned any of the thin fabric of my clothes uncomfortably moist, making it cling to my skin, just like the air itself seemed to do. I shivered slightly as I crouched and rolled up my boots before I unfastened the ends of my cloak. I pulled the left flap tighter, fastening it at my right shoulder.

Tightening it restricted my movement, but it kept the wind away. Before I secured the right flap on my left shoulder, I made to grab hold of my hair tied in a tail. If I removed it out of the cloak, it would lessen the tightness around my shoulders and give me some more room to move, if only by a little.

Right then, I felt someone grabbing my wrist. Or rather, a strong hand took hold of the gold and bronze bracelets covering most of my lower arm. Despite the metal not being pure, thus not too soft, the thickest bangle was giving in to the force of the grip. I could almost hear it whine together with the other pieces as they pressed harder against my skin. If I let the person hold them, I suspected I would never be able to take them off.

I turned to see the archeress from before. She seemed unaffected by the climb, still with the same vigour as I had seen her earlier. Her fitted clothes allowed her free range of movement, while lacking the annoying features of my cloak. Behind her, I could see the swordsman was not as well off, despite his attire being quite similar.

I prepared to defend myself, considering what spell would be the most appropriate.

“If you’re headed for Seatown, let us see that you will remain safe on the way there as an apology for my member’s foolishness.”

Her round amber eyes filled with a soft kindness that made me take a step back, yet she still held my arm in her firm grip. Despite that, I could see the sincerity behind her words in the smile she gave me. The swordsman looked up, smiling at me, and his eyes showed nothing but what filth he was. If she hadn’t been there, I would have kicked him downhill.

I forcefully pulled my arm to me, the bracelets clearly flattened into ovals instead of circles. A bit more and I would have needed to use magic to get them off my arm, assuming I could still feel it by the time I got word from Master.

I pulled the arms inside my cloak, and rubbed my sore arm, vaguely wondering how I could possibly explain my accessories bent out of shape.

The right end of the cloak still flapped angrily in the wind.

“I need no protection; thank you kindly for the offer.”

About to fasten the cloak, I turned toward Seatown. But as I did, an abnormal swirling motion in the air caught my eye and my gaze shot to her right hip. The arrows, which had been ordinary previously, now glowed in green, rust and stone grey. During the time it took me — and them — to climb the mountain, the arrows had been infused with mana, absorbing the colours of the surrounding element.

Now, seeing an archer with mana-infused arrows was by all means common — many heroes wielding a bow and arrows will often have at least a few. If one wasn’t trained to be a Melee Mage and didn’t have the skill to affect weaponry, there were many who’d infuse one’s arrow with air or wind to make them lighter or faster, asking for no more than a coin or two of silver. Yet if the mana was not continuously connected to a source, the mana would disappear completely in half a day.

Though only an experienced Battle Mage would know that.⁵ 

Besides, if they wanted a ranged weapon themselves, just training to be a Ranged Mage was less work than learning the art of archery. Most affinities allowed for a multitude of simple ranged spells.

While my face remained cold, a storm of curious questions raged within my mind. I really hadn’t seen earth mana in arrows before. As it had settled to stably envelope the heads, she hadn’t met a Battle Mage within the last hour and paid for it. With no signs of decreasing, the colours swirled in harmony with the surroundings.

There is quite a good reason not to use earth for one’s arrows. Earth mana makes arrows slow and heavy, pulled to the ground before they hit their target. If I hadn’t just experienced her grip myself, I would have doubted she could send one flying at all. What wasn’t her arm strength if she could successfully draw an earth arrow?

I’m intrigued.

Certainly, I can think of uses for someone using earth mana. None of them for walking up the lightly forested mountain path though. There were no dangers so horrible they needed the weight of earth mana. At best there would be some bird to target, and then her arrows would have been entirely useless instead.

“Fine,” I said, my interest in the unusual archeress the victor against my dislike for the man she was with. “I’ll allow you to accompany me to Seatown. But…”

I unfastened the left flap of the cloak and the wind pulled at it and the thin fabric within, as if trying to take it all away and expose me completely to the elements.

The woman covered her eyes, shutting them even before I managed to remove it. I noticed a slight frown, and her jaw tensed, making her lips create a horizontal line. Whether she was aware of it or not, she also took a few steps back.

I felt a mocking smile pull at my lips against my will.

It was a reaction I couldn’t feel surprised about even if I had wanted to, and it was an ample one. A woman following the path and will of the God shouldn’t show anyone her bosom, and likewise a devotee would not wish to anger the God by seeing the body of a Servant.

I held on to the ends, as the wind pulled harder at the fabric, threatening to unclasp the remaining clasps by itself.

The swordsman stepped closer with every second that passed. The filthy bastard stared down into the road, huffing as he approached the peak. It was no wonder he had been walking alone earlier, and I could only presume the archeress had been keeping herself at a distance; perhaps she had noticed me before I had noticed her, or she hadn’t been on the road altogether.

Her fingers spread, and she peeked, taking a forbidden risk, likely out of curiosity. I saw her eyes widen and her jaw drop slightly as a gust almost managed to steal my cloak from me, and with it what I was wearing beneath.

Completely dumbfounded, she watched as I fastened the ends to the shoulders again.

I observed her reactions with bitter amusement. “Tell your friend I’m a man.”

*   *   *

A few days later I finally reached Seatown. The autumn equinox was nearly upon me and I had a sense of anxious urgency that I couldn’t show outwardly. As I stared ahead of me, I fiddled with the bangle, wondering if I would need to find an excuse on this day or if I could continue thinking up something plausible.

Even if someone believed me, I expected trouble if I shared the truth.

A woman, clad in leather and metal armour and armed with a dagger, eyed me suspiciously as I approached the gate. The line was moving quickly forward, and she leaned towards her partner dressed much like her. He turned away from the townsfolk, merchants and heroes walking straight through the town’s gate — as if it wasn’t there for them to be inspected — to look where she pointed. His eyes narrowed as he put a hand on the sword hilt, and they both followed me with their eyes, paying no mind to the men and women passing them — not even glancing at them.

Not that I could call the gate much. Seatown wasn’t large enough a town to have a high town wall built in durable stone, and any capable mage could easily burn the wood down with a spell or two. The gate was simply an opening with huts on each side to control the flow and hinder the questionable from entering.

“Identification.”

The man spoke up the moment I stepped within the shadow of the gate. I could see they both continued to look at me with great suspicion. It wasn’t the first time I entered Seatown, but the procedure always remained the same, the suspicion no different from one time to another.

I expected this sort of suspicion.

As Elemental Mages were rare, seeing one would often mean something was going on. Either it was someone pretending to be one, to avoid suspicion in some way, or there may be trouble facing them all too soon. Not all trusted Elemental Mages either, even if they were recognised.⁶

Even as the heroes followed me, they kept a distance from me and behind them I heard whispers from the moment I stepped into the line.

In my case, though, my stay would be brief, even though I knew the procedure to enter and leave the town would take several hours at best. A day at most.

While I could avoid the towns and villages altogether, it caused more delay than if I went through the procedure to enter and leave them. Seeing the urgency of my missions, there were few choices, and I chose practicality over preference.

“Oh, come on!” the archeress exclaimed in frustration.

Despite the four days of travel with them, I only knew she called him ‘Sig’, and I could think of many names that it could derive from: Siegeir, Sigihar, Siegfried, Sigidag, Siegbert, Siegmar, Siegward and so on. I noticed quickly she liked to push her decisions on me. So I chose to call him Filth, and her Pushy.

Naturally, I only called them so within my own mind, safely hiding my mocking words, and only spoke to them to camp and to set out, refusing to say a single word more than necessary.

“How many Servants pass through this small rotten town? You should just let ’em through!” Filth joined in.

The guard with the dagger nodded toward them. “They’re with you?”

I shook my head. “I travel alone on the Path of the God. The God’s Will is my companion, and the God’s words my guide.”

This answer satisfied her, and she ignored the two who couldn’t leave me alone soon enough. With my limited time, I preferred no troubles made by these miserable examples of heroes.

They couldn’t even stay silent when they should have.

Unfastening the flap, I handed over an exquisitely decorated seal. While I used it when sending messages to Master, guards frequently used it to identify who Master was and which Temple I belonged to. When stamping documents, it left a symbol of a sun, moon and star, and my Master’s personal seal, the waves of the sea and the Elven star.

“Eastriver Temple.” The guard’s voice was quiet as the guard spoke over his shoulder to someone I couldn’t see.

In the wall behind the guard there was a panel with holes. it didn’t allow anyone to look inside, but it allowed guards within to listen in. In case it was needed, they would come out and help with unrest, but mostly they looked in a book for identification of those relating to the clergy.

The Priestdom officially had no laws, but pretending to be part of the clergy was punishable with a brand and banishment. And that was just if you pretended to be a disciple or low ranked priestess. Taking on the identity of a High Priestess was corporal punishment, somewhere between fifty to eighty lashes. They then got branded and banished.

It was clearly a severe crime against the clergy.

Naturally, pretending to be an Elemental Mage would also come with punishment, if found out

They used the seal to determine I was related to the clergy, after which they looked at the pattern of my cloak. What they looked for, I can’t tell, but I knew that the images on it were distorted pictures from the Scriptures. How many times hadn’t I tried to decipher which Scriptures they referred to?

These two steps would confirm my identity.

However, had they wished for me to identify in a swifter fashion, they could simply remove my cloak altogether, but to say it was frowned upon is an understatement. See, Elemental Mages had a tattoo for identification. Mine was situated on my lower back, on the right side. To the commonfolk it only looked like something referring to magic, but the Path of the God needed nothing more. I had since long realised the issue with it, if they wished to identify me in case of death, but I never mentioned it.

I’m uncertain what they would have thought of had I told them they might not be able to recognise it if I burnt to death.

“Turn around.”

I followed orders immediately, as any delay caused problems for both me and the guards. I heard someone farther back in line let out a sigh, and some voiced their complaints. To them this was taking much too long for the small gate. To me, however, it was a brief stop.

“Next!” the guard shouted as I took the seal and passed through with quick, long steps. I steered straight to the Seatown Temple.

“The guard should just have let you through!”

Upon hearing Pushy, I grimaced internally, feeling goosebumps crawl up my body from where Filth had previously placed his hand. I deeply regretted my previous decision.

“You should have said something!”

Without acknowledging her, I continued walking until I arrived at the Temple erected at the centre of the town, built from white stone. Most would stop and send the God a thought before entering, but I walked up the unnecessarily tall staircase and pushed open the intricate wooden door. My visit wasn’t because I wanted the God’s blessing or protection, but rather to get my business over with so I could leave Seatown as soon as possible.

I would have avoided going there if I could.

My mission was of a delivery kind. I had picked up the package in the Southern Principality and now headed toward the Northern Kingdom after a stop in the Eastern Priestdom. Going to Seatown was a detour by itself, but just as I chose to pass through the towns instead of around them, I was placing my bets on avoiding unnecessary travel.

The two stopped for a moment, and I could sense their mana flows — one mainly of earth, and the other of fire — moving closer once I was inside.

My steps echoed as I walked through the open area; it was something I did entirely on purpose for the clergy to notice me, to avoid the awkwardness of being unnoticed due to my similar bearing.

A disciple hurried away to get the High Priest, while I waited a few steps away from the end of the hall, internally cursing that I couldn’t just walk inside when at this Temple. I had already left the area Master controlled.

When he arrived, he looked past me, an eyebrow raised, and I shook my head. The High Priest nodded before he led me to the area for the clergy further inside.

The heroes must have been a misfortune sent by the God.

“It’s been a while, Answard,” the priest greeted me once we were away from curious ears. “How’s Merewyn?”

I bowed deeply. “The God and the Spirits of this world bless my Master.” I felt enjoyment filling my chest at the twitch on his face when I mentioned the Spirits, but didn’t let it show. “The Mana Flow between Eastriver and Seatown remains undisturbed. I noticed some disturbed mana that needs to be dealt with within a moon. Southeast of Seatown Mountain, and northwest of Rivergreen Valley. There were no monsters. No beasts. No other beings of questionable kind. Barely any heroes. I met two.”

“Who you befriended?” said the priest with a tone of accusation.

“Who are following me against my will. Take them away if you wish, it is no matter to me. I would, in fact, prefer it. One of them would likely need a good cleanse from the God, but it’s unrelated to mana.” I unfastened the cloak as I spoke. “Are the priestesses available?” I asked as the cloak fell to the floor.

“Yes.”

The High Priest picked up the cloak to look through its contents, while a priestess examined me. I shivered in the air of the Temple as I walked through the corridors. Disciples looked away as I did. Three years earlier it offended me, but I eventually became used to it.

I was a witch. Of course they didn’t want to look at me, lest I cursed them.⁷

“Answard,” I heard a priestess say behind me and I turned to see a serene, but cold gaze. “I’ll examine you.”

“Thank you,” I said with a bow, though I desired to tell her to scram. The more I went through an examination, the less I wished to go through them. I could sense that there weren’t any problems with my mana flow. My internal mana flowed normally and in harmony with the world.

This is such a waste of my time.

I stepped into a small room before the priestess took off all my jewellery.

This was also part of making sure I carried nothing I shouldn’t. Whenever I visited a town with a Temple, I had to go through the same procedure.

Being a Servant of the God was quite a privilege.

Once I no longer wore the rings, bracelets, earrings, and golden collar, she looked at my tattoo before she let out my soft, long hair from the ponytail I kept it in.

When not up, it almost reached the floor.

She took my hand and closely studied the mana flow by trying to sense it. It disturbed hers as she tried to determine what she was feeling. Seeing mana was far more uncommon than sensing it, but they still needed to be in close contact to notice any flow in me.

“It’s mostly air and wind,” I pointed out. “A bit of fire close to the skin because I’m freezing. There’s no need to be too thorough today.”

She sighed as she turned her green eyes to look at me with suspicion. “I’ll look through every bit of your flow, regardless of what you say. You should know that by now.”

I do, and I don’t want to spend hours here.

Slowly she worked her up the arm. Once done, she looked through the next one, staring intently at it, as if she would see anything if she just concentrated enough.

I can’t say she didn’t believe it possible.

When she let go of the other arm, I unclasped the fabric covering my chest, dropping it onto the floor. She hesitated before she touched it with her cold hands, and I could see a tinge of pink colour her cheeks. I sighed internally as she hesitated more the further down she went, making the process even slower.

Witch or not, I am still a male. And this Priestess likely had yet to find herself a husband. She seemed young and perhaps had only recently become a Priestess. How many adult men had she seen in the past?

The awkward bit, however, was after I kicked off my boots and unfastened the silver cuffs at my ankles and the clasps on the side of my legs. She needed to go through every inch of my body. The clergy allowed me enough decency to have fabric barely hanging down from my hips. They allowed it solely in case a man walked in. Though, the few times a priestess had accidentally entered where I was examined, the woman had turned on her heel.

It was equally foolish every time.

However, it was the priestesses that could sense the mana in my body, and witches were — usually — women.

My theory is that women can use mana, and therefor be more likely to sense it, for the same reason men have physical strength. So most mana users were women. I have met a good share of men who were mages, but they had a preference toward melee battle spells, unless they were of the clergy. Yet I had seen even more heroes being women than mages being men, so neither excluded one nor the other.

Then there was me. The sole man among all known witches.

Lovely.

“Your mana flow looks normal, Servant.”

“Yes, I know it does. I would tell you if something was not right so you could help me locate it better. I could then clear it up myself.”

She gave me a look of disgust, though her cheeks were still a tinge of pink. She turned her head away from me before she left the room.

I clasped the legs together and put on the fabric covering my chest. Much like when I walked to find the Priestess who received the order to examine me, the disciples looked away. Some gave me curious glances when I didn’t look at them, yet I saw it from the corner of my eye.

No one dared to whisper.

The High Priest returned the cloak when I found him near the entrance to the hall for the devotees. He looked cold and tense rather than serene and I immediately put my cloak on, getting a feel of the pockets as I took it.

“I’ll have my delivery back.” I stared at him and he cautiously took it out of his sleeve. “And the confirmation scrolls from the League and the Holy Tower about my missions. I will know if you’ve opened either of them, High Priest, and I will not hesitate to notify the Holy Tower and the League if that’s the case. I have my duties, and you have yours. Stealing is neither’s.”

For as a blink of an eye, the High Priest frowned. He tensely glared as he gave me the box wrapped in fabric. I barely bowed after I tucked the package away in my cloak and left without a word.

The two, who had followed me in, stood within the Temple hall, still waiting, as I came out three, maybe four, hours later. I couldn’t help but frown.

This was beyond my expectations.

*   *   *

Seatown’s branch quarters for the League of Heroes were on the rather small side. Some had an unreasonably enormous building that included both accommodation and a tavern serving a variety of food, but in a small town — though with plenty of places to both eat and sleep — the League House had only a few chairs, a board of missions and a counter.

‘Small’ meant not that one could find no heroes. After some minor spells, so small no one noticed them or couldn’t figure out what hit them, to get through the crowd, I arrived at the counter. The League Representative I found was a redheaded man with a muscular build.⁸

“I’m here to report.” I got a piece of paper out of my cloak and handed it to him. 

Aside from visiting every Temple, Elemental Mages needed to report to the League in every town and village. I found a proper League Hall fairly easy, but when I searched for a shed by the Representative’s house or room by their shop — if anything — it could take quite some time to find out who to speak to. In the rare villages with devotees who didn’t fear me, the process was usually somewhat faster, but there in some places I had to look everywhere only to realise it was the first person I saw I needed to speak with.

In quite enormous towns, such as Eastriver or the Central Capital, there would be two or three, and the League ensured to be visible and heroes would flock like birds to seeds.

He looked at the note. “Nim’s Os’rt?”

I blinked, standing by the counter without saying a word. He raised an eyebrow at my silence, and I tried to process what I just heard.

“Yes. You’re right. I’m Answard.”

My travels hadn’t brought me to the western area of the Continent much, and when I had been there, I had always spoken with someone who spoke Common proper, although with an accent.

I also grew up in Eastriver. The entire Eastriveran region — the Northeastern Meadows — spoke a mixture of Common, Eastern and Border Northern, and the Northeastern accent sounded vastly different from the Western. If one assumed this man not only had a thick accent, but spoke in Western Common and not Common proper…

“Ees’dvur, yee?”

I stared at him for a moment. “Could you get someone who speaks Common or Eastern? Even Northern works.”

“Inn’at ba’ey?”

That wasn’t even Common, was it? It sounded nothing like it.

“‘M ‘sk’n t’lass, y’no,” he added, and I just felt depleted of energy.

His speech made it impossible for me to do what I came for.

I took the paper from him. I needed to report, but reporting didn’t equal just stating one’s business and leaving; one had to understand the person who confirmed what one said, and vice versa. He looked surprised, then shrugged and looked past me, no longer interested in me. I looked down the counter to see if there was anyone else.

“Hey! Come here!” I shouted in Elven, and an elf who must have been in late eighties or early nineties looked up from his paperwork in the dark corner lit by a single candle.

“A minute, lass,” he said when I motioned it was I who called for him. He finished what he was doing, gave the paper to a different  Representative and walked up to me. “Need help with anything’?”

“I’d like to report that I’ve been here. Answard from Eastriver Temple. Going from the Eastern Priestdom, to Northern Capital.”

The elf huffed. “Why woutcha need me hepp when fom East’iven? E’ven’sn’t ya on’ tongue, is it?”

Anyone one who had spent some time with the League would have met an elf, and would know their language lacked some of the Common sounds. After a while, one would learn to make out the words. Much unlike the Western man who spoke in nonsense. Some commonfolk struggled with it, though.

“No, but I don’t understand him,” I said and pointed to the human next to him. “Elven, Northern, Eastern and Common. Not Western.”

The elf looked to his left and looked somewhat smug. “Ya ’ight. He’s West’n heavy ’ight.”

And your Common is perfect, I presume?

“Ya’n’t go’ getcha on a boat though. They’n’t go’ ’etcha on.”

“I know I need to be lucky to find a Nord’n or Soud’n ship, but ’tis better than walkin’ five moons so ‘m take a chance. ‘M in a slight rush, y’see. Got missioned up Nord, ’n’ ’m s’pposed tp be there b’fore the ’stice.”

“No ’uck, Se’vant. Ya’n’t makin’ it to the ’stice at this’ate. Bette’ give up. The Cohd’s comin’, me friend.”

“Ya’n’t know whatcha talkin’ ’bout.”

I noticed a glance from the Westerner.

“What’sit?”

Ah. 

I cleared my throat. “Anyhow, I’m coming from Eastriver and will go to Midport, and either to the Northern Capital from there, or pass through the Border and the Outer Farmlands. That’s my report.”

“Gotcha, Se’vant.” He took the paper from me, read it, and signed it. “Can only wish you the best of luck, Weather Mage.”

I showed nothing when he had figured out my identity, speaking Elven again. If he willingly talked to me, knowing which Elemental Mage I was, then I was in luck.

“Got anything to sell?”

He wrinkled his nose at the emotionless way I spoke in.

“I caught they got strict on the boats. You should give it up with the ship for a good six moons. They say there’s one who escaped down south. Thought you should know. Don’t come back and curse me now. I’ve offered you plenty. Safe travels and may the Sun shine upon you.”

I fished out a silver out of my pouch.

“My pleasure doing business with you, Elven. May the Sun shine upon you too,” I replied and gave him the coin as he returned the note.

As I walked out, I heard: “I’m Wyn, the Archeress, in a party with Sig, the Swordsman, and we would like to confirm a finished mission, and take on this one too.”

I threw a glance over my shoulder and left in a hurry when I saw Pushy and Filth by the counter.

*   *   *

“Hey, Answart!”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Pushy jog my way. The rust-coloured glow of the arrows begged for my attention. As expected, it hadn’t disappeared, and had a slow pulse of brighter and dimmer light, reminding me of burning coal.

They just lacked the bright red of fire mana added to it.

“Why?” I asked and pointed at her hip.

My curiosity got the better of me and compelled me to receive some answers regarding this mysterious archeress. But she gave me a blank stare before she looked toward her quiver, to then once again turned to me, void of any expression.

“Why choose archery?”

Her puzzlement broke into a smile and she place a hand at her waist, shifting her weight. “Where I’m from we have hunters and farmers, so it’s between spear or bow and arrow for those who hunt. I’m decent with a dagger too.”

While she made it out to be obvious to choose either of those, she could have trained in something more suitable for her.

As a mage, my knowledge of weaponry was unquestionably limited, I had seen many a hero, and concluded an axe would have been a better match for her. She didn’t have a heavy build like a dwarf, but swinging a battle axe seemed suitable for her. With an aptitude in adding earth mana to a weapon, she could add weight to that swing.

She didn’t look like the type who would handle a sword very well, though agile enough for much of the art.

Yet she had chosen bow and arrow, and I figured she had been a huntress before taking up her current occupation.

Perhaps she should just have been a farmer instead. Earth affinity’s great for farming.

I couldn’t help but sigh internally at the ignorance of the commonfolk.

The sharp sound of a slap made me look past Pushy. Behind her, I saw a woman slap Filth a second time before she left. Completely unfazed, he shrugged and walked toward us. The corners of my mouth twitched as I tried to hide my disgust with the man.

I turned to walk in the direction of the town gate. I could have stayed in town overnight, and I would have preferred that over the icy winds on the road to Midport, but, like the elf had mentioned, I wouldn’t make it to the North before the solstice at this rate.

The mission I had received wasn’t necessarily time sensitive, but the weather itself was an issue. Weather-controlling mage or not, I couldn’t change the climate just to travel. I wasn’t the God. Just trying would be blasphemy, and I didn’t want to anger the very god I worshipped.

I could only think of one person with enough power to clear the path of the cold all the way to the North without affecting the weather, but last I heard of her, she was at a Temple for cleansing and I had heard no one speak of her for many moons.

“Answart, wait!”

I turned again and looked coldly at the woman.

“What?”

My efforts of keeping her at a distance were wasted on a woman like Pushy. I could have just as well asked her with a smile, and her reaction would remain the same. If I didn’t know better, I would have assumed I even invited her to speak to me regularly.

“You didn’t take a mission with you! Why not?”

“I just stopped by to report my journey. It’s something we Mages do.”

“I ain’t heard of a Mage that does,” said Filth.

“That’s because they don’t follow the Path of the God. I’m in a hurry, so I’m leaving now. If you excuse me…”

I started walking quickly, but the swift huntress kept to my pace with no issues.

“Are you headed towards Port Town? We have a delivery there. We can go together.”

“I’m headed North.”

“Midport, huh? Port Town’s practically on the way, so we can all head there and then to Midport.”

‘On the way’? It more than doubles the time to travel Midport.

“I travel alone,” I said while slowing down.

Trying to hurry with my cloak tightly around me was both painful and exhausting. Moreover, I needed to preserve my energy. The equinox would come soon, and after that the days would rapidly get shorter and my energy would mainly keep me warm.

I didn’t exactly wear any warm layers of clothing. My cloak looked — and was — extremely thin compared to what Pushy was wearing. I envied her quite a bit. I wanted warm clothing as well.

So if I couldn’t shake her off, what was the point?

“Hey, Sig! We’re going with Answart!”

“Got it.” Filth wasn’t far behind us. “But we need to arrive at Port Town within six days. You think the Servant can manage that? Real slow, that thing.”

I felt a surge of anger.

I don’t choose to be slow. I just want to be warm. I can’t get both. Or, well...

I loosened the cloak and the wind immediately took hold of it, pulling at it with strength, now that it could properly grab it. Pushy jumped out of the way. Townsfolk, merchants and heroes all watched me curiously as I walked through the road. Now and then they looked away as the cloak seemed like it would expose more than my boots. They all thought I was a woman, so I could understand it.

Though regardless of who or what I was, showing as much as I did when not wearing my cloak was inappropriate no matter how I looked at it.

Because the cloak was violently whipping around, guided only by the strong sea wind of the town, everyone kept at a distance. I admit I found that a benefit. But I was freezing and wind and air mana flowed around me as violently as the cloak in the wind, making it even worse.

I focused, sensed in the air, as I walked through the town, and felt tingling warmth on my skin as I absorbed the fire mana around me to keep at least decently warm.

Now I’m not so slow anymore.

I felt childishly triumphant. Perhaps an eighteen-year-old man is still a child. Or I might have been retrieving some of my since long lost childhood.

*   *   *

Many a day later, on the road between Port Town and Midport.

The clouds shadowed any sun as the road detoured around a forest, making us return toward Seatown as we left Port Town, but the day was relatively warm nonetheless. The wind was hindered by the trees of the forest anybody could get lost in, and even at a distance I could hear the rustles as the wind tried to push through.

Though as peaceful as could be, the sinking feeling in my stomach steadily increased, and I continued to cast glances toward the forest.

Few cases of trouble occurred in the northern area of the Central Priestdom. Few monsters, no undead, no dragonborn, no demons. Bandits, thieves, the weather, the occasional beast, and vicious folk among the heroes themselves were the nightmares of the traveller. Aside from the weather and the beasts, the rest kept away from travelling heroes.

The League forbade any violence between heroes, and only allowed self-defence against people. In addition, they required that no commonfolk perished at the hands of a hero. As an organisation, the League condemned unreasonable and unlawful violence and heroes took an oath to protect one’s neighbour, be it an elf, a human, a dwarf or an individual of some other race classified as ‘People’. At least where they knew the laws allowed it.

It didn’t change that heroes sometimes would be no better than bandits. Even worse at times.

I turned off the road.

“Answart!” Pushy called after me.

I still questioned why I followed her and Filth to Port Town, but I couldn’t help my interest in the archeress.

Or her arrows, specifically.

“It’s Answard. At least say it right if you’re going to follow me around.”

“I’m saying Answart though?”⁹

“Where are you going? Going through the forest would be slower. A lot, as your cloak will get stuck everywhere.”

And I can’t take it off around people who aren’t of the clergy. I know that very well.

“I have something I need to do.”

The sinking feeling meant I sensed what I had since childhood defined as ‘mud’ in an enormous quantity. When we passed some days earlier, the area had been clear, with a gentle flow, sometimes disrupted by the wind. Thus I needed to see what it was, and possibly clear it myself.

Whether I took it upon myself to investigate and clear mud depended entirely on the situation. If there was a Temple nearby, and the quantity small, I’d leave it to the Mana Manipulators. If it needed urgent clearing, I’d clear it immediately. This would generally mean it could be lethal to either locals or anyone passing by. If it was far from a Temple, but minor, I’d take care of it. Anything sudden I’d investigate, then decide, depending on how the situation may develop.

I believed that most commonly unnatural disturbances of mana flow caused the different elements of mana to mix into mud. That blame would in part lie on the shoulders of mages, when they used their craft. When it was just a few, then nothing major would happen as the disturbance would be too small, but over time in a highly populated area, it would be natural for disturbances to occur.

That mud appeared more frequently near the coast or the Border than the rural parts of the Meadows seemed to prove this.

But an illness could generate a disturbance and cause mana in people to be muddy. Monsters often carried mostly muddied mana. It pained me to see, as I suspected that if one cleared the mana, the monsters would calm down, though they would likely remain monsters. I had yet to prove my suspicions, though, and I doubted I’d ever have the chance. No one wanted to be close to even the smallest of monsters, out of fear of being infected too. Me too.

Of course, with Elemental Mages using spells far grander than that or a regular mage, it meant I had a greater responsibility to keep disturbance in mind not to cause more harm than good. More so as I used mana in my surroundings, directly affecting the flow.

Elemental Mages took what they needed. We had orders to fulfil and if that required fire mana with none around, so be it. If we froze an entire country to resolve the problem given to us to resolve, that was what we needed to do.

I certainly did no worse than any other Elemental Mage in that regard. After all, all orders I received were absolute.

Despite the urgent matter of going north, the choice had been easy. Not only was the amount great, I could tell it was a good distance away. The moment I steered toward the wrong direction, I had given up trying to make it in time to find a merchant heading north, and more so I knew there was no way I’d find anyone returning north for the winter.¹⁰ Without the knowledge of what I may face, I had to give up practicality to deal with the urgency.

I could only hope I would arrive up North before the Cold did.

We walked in silence until an hour or two past midday, and arrived then to the edge of the forest. I looked up the trees — mostly oaks and birches — and inwardly clicked my tongue.

There really is mud gathering here?

I moved my gaze and put my hand on a trunk, while looking into the forest. I shook my head. Had I travelled alone, the density of the forest had been less of a difficulty, but with these two following me my cloak truly created a problem for me, yet it didn’t require much thought to understand that I couldn’t shake them off.

But then this could have got overlooked. So I suppose the God brought me a guide. I better remember to give the God my thanks once I reach Midport.

I glanced at Pushy, who peered into the forest, her expression filled with unease and the flow around her tense. As if sensing the archeress’ unease, leaves rustled high above us, and branches creaked. I looked back into the forest, almost expecting to see some fae approaching her, but there was nothing. Not even birdsong.

What her eyes looked for, I couldn’t say, but with her seeming ability to use magic, I expected she sensed the mud. Even I, who were used to far worse situations, had my heart in my throat and dread filling its place in my chest instead.

I heard a light clink of metal against metal. I turned around to see Filth rearrange his equipment and armour.

“…”

He’s sure quick on the uptake.

Then again, while he didn’t wear the heavier metal armour many sword-wielding heroes chose, his leather armour focused on protection in close-range combat. I assumed the dragon scale gorget wasn’t only made out of leather, but something sturdier as well.

The archeress — the huntress — did wear armour as well, but unlike the man cover from the neck down and wore both vambraces and gloves with visible steel parts, she only had a jacket, simple gorget and armguards. She no doubt relied on the swordsman for protection, but it also meant that most of the additional weight had been shed. Aside from her quiver, I couldn’t think of anything that would get stuck in bushes and branches.

I unfastened my cloak and crouched down. I rolled up my boots as high as I could and tied them tightly to ensure they didn’t get stuck in anything. I rummaged through the cloak pockets for fibulas of a couple, three different sizes. I used the small ones to close the gaps in the fabric along the outside of my legs. I removed the upper part, opened the clasps and fastened the fabric around my hips.

As unconventional and useless for just about anything my garments were, at least I could adapt how I wore them a little bit.

I heard a gasp from Pushy, and a huff from the man behind me. I assumed the huff was because of the tattoo on my lower back, while I had since long concluded the archeress was devoted to the God, and most likely following the Path much like I did. Meaning she would avoid seeing my body if she could.

I fastened my cloak to my hip, wrapping it around my torso before fastening it not to lose it on the way. I took a step over a low bush.

“Are…”

Pushy peeked through her fingers, but quickly looked away when I turned to her with a frown.

“Are you really going into the forest like that?”

“Does it perhaps look to you as if I’m returning to the road? If so, I doubt you’re a very useful hero. Return to Port Town and return your quiver to the League, then go back to whichever hole in the ground you came from.”

“It’s just… you’re not… very covered.”

I couldn’t help but sneer. “If that’s a problem, leave me alone. I have something urgent to do, unlike you two.”

She gave her companion a look, and he shook his head. Seeing this I turned around again and continued. The two followed me, unaware what may come, and I said nothing to stop them.

*   *   *

¹ Training is overseen by a Mistress or Master — someone who is or have been a hero for a considerable amount of years, and considered well-versed in their trade — as most have never touched a weapon, aside from the common tools such as knives, pitchforks and axes. These aren’t the optimal choices for a hero, nor will a farmer know how to use a pitchfork efficiently to exterminate a monster, unless trained for it. Hence the fifteen-year-olds seek for a teacher of the ways of a hero and to use a weapon — often one they preferred, although some would seek heroes to ask what weapon may be the better option for their person. Most common weapons of choice would be swords, axes, pole arms, bow and arrow, staves, and daggers.

Redacted. They needn’t know more.

² I mean no offense to any dogs by comparing this man to a dog. Especially not any of the demi-humans with canine features. You don’t deserve to be insulted in such awful ways, and I do understand that. I ask you not to seek me up and burn my house. I would be very troubled.

³ I truly understand how offensive this is to those of dog and wolf ancestry. I beg of you to be understanding. He truly did remind me of a wild dog at the time.

⁴ I believe most commonfolk, scholars, clergy and otherwise are unaware that mages are divided into two main categories. I’m not speaking of mana users, as mages are mana users as well, but the difference between mages on the battlefield.

When people think of mages, it’s a type of Battle Mages they think of: beings with decently strong magical abilities who use ranged attacks, or have other special magical skills. I would have been considered such a mage in general, too, but Elemental Mages differ from Range Battle Mages.

Other types are Melee Battle Mages, Healing Mages and Mana Manipulators.

Those who are not on the battlefield are by technicality not considered a mage, but Healing Mages and Mana Manipulators are terms used within the church as well, and naturally Sages are mages too. There are other kind of magical crafts, but the practitioners aren’t considered mages from the perspective of the League of Heroes, the church, nor in general among mages.

It’s just a small matter of terminology, but as commonfolk would only know a few, it may become confusing without a proper explanation.

⁵ As I previously noted, Battle Mages are divided into two groups—Ranged Battle Mages and Melee Battle Mages. Ranged Battle Mages uses incantations to fight from a safe distance. These take a moment as the incantation must be said for the power to be released, but is efficient. Melee Battle Mages use magic to amplify the inherent abilities of their weapon (or, in some cases, shield) and often fight at a close range. Their incantations are generally no more than two or three words, though usually only a single one, and this type of magic is considered the weakest one, though essential for battle. 

I’ve removed the rest. They needn’t know more yet. You know that.

⁶ This has always baffled me. Why would one choose to disguise themselves as the most likely the guards inspected?

⁷ Now I shall take the opportunity to explain a few things related to Elemental Mages and Mages in general.

I have previously mentioned Battle Mages were divided in two, Ranged Battle Mages and Melee Battle Mages. This is a generalisation. Elemental Mages were technically considered Battle Mages as well, as their magic was of a more destructive kind. Additionally, there are Healers and Mana Manipulators, grouped as Healing Mages, who learn the practice at Temples, and who leave later on to work with heroes.

Out of all who could be considered a mage, only one in eight thousand could be an Elemental Mage. While that in itself shows how rare an Elemental Mage was, only witches could become Elemental Mages. Witches were born from human parents, and roughly one in twelve hundred thousand children would turn out to be a witch. The Central Priestdom had a human population of roughly five million, and a total of five witches, including myself, were in the Priestdom.

If Elemental Mages were the most uncommon to come across, if you looked among heroes, Melee Battle Mages were the most common. The shorter an incantation was, the less control one needed. If an incantation is simply one word, the caster can repeat that word until the spell succeeds. Naturally, the success rate for any mages relying on magic in battle is considerably higher than your common mana user. Out of twenty mages, seven would be melee mages. They are followed by Healers and mana Manipulators, who are about equal in amount and together cover for about half of the mages on the battlefield. Range Battle Mages only account for roughly three in twenty mages among heroes.

It was said that an Elemental Mage could be able to fit into any of these roles, depending on their affinity with their element. Witches were one with their element, and often represented the element itself for the clergy, thus their name. However, because of this belief and the little exposure, many believed all witches knew ‘curses’.

But I could use no such magic. Had I wanted to strangle them, then yes, I could have removed the air from their lungs, seeing them suffocate instead of using physical strength, yet I couldn’t ‘curse’ anyone.

I won’t let you continue on this. It’s more than enough. Speakn’t of murder either.

I already made my point.

⁸ I have been told I can’t describe every young man as handsome, but to be quite honest, I only remember his red hair.

Then you remembern't if he's muscular? 

He was a Westerner. They’re always muscular.

⁹ To be fair, she was theoretically correct. The dialect Eastriveran Common sounded a bit different from Common proper. Thus, in Eastriver, the last sound was soft, unlike in other areas of the Central Priestdom. Or perhaps one should say that where I come from we pronounced the sound aggressively. In the end, some struggle to distinguish between the two sounds. 

¹⁰ While merchants may take a risk to try leaving the North in late the tenth or early eleventh moon, Northerners try to return to the North before the Autumn Equinox and the Harvest Festival that the Spirit Fellowship celebrates. This is in part because the Harvest Festival is an important celebration, but also because of practicality. Even before the tenth moon arrives, ice and snow will creep from the Troll Mountains, down the Wilderness, to the North, and then continue even further south.