I want to knock my head against something. (preferably solid.) That kind of pain should distract me from my present state. (You can thank my sensory enhancement yesterday for this.) I mean it is not particularly painful. Yet there is a kind of depth to this pain that makes it hard to ignore. You could say, I can feel the ache in my bones. (Except, I can't tell which bone it is.)
As if this was already not enough of a problem, I am shivering in my robes. Normally, I am not one to wear robes. (They are just too airy for my tastes.) It is the clothes of preference for a Sage, though. Especially during intense conflicts like now, they always wear robes. (It is the only article of clothing that can survive their magic.) The Snowlords might not even notice it, but still, why take a chance?
I am already taking a lot of risk at the moment. The Snow Tribes and the Sages are enemies of ours. The Scholars (by extension us) naturally do not have an idea on either of these powers. We know that they are somewhat friendly with each other. I just don't know if this friendliness is enough for them to forget their past and be true allies.
I am still going to be caught even if they are not familiar with each other. After all, I am no Sage. Every moment that I get them speaking, though, is one more moment I get to learn. It is not everyday that you get to speak with an enemy as bitter as the Snow Tribes. Every bit that I learn about them will be worth its weight in gold. (The goodwill of the Scholars I gain also has its uses.)
Anyway, engaging them is going to get them that much closer to the trap, so I would have done something similar anyway. Right now, we are in the best room in the fort, sitting on a circular table that I think must be built of some kind of pretty wood. (I did not bother to ask Shamon details about it.)
The only thing that I know about it is that it has a formation inscribed on it. To be more precise, it has the remnants of the same formation inscribed all over it. (Whoever inscribed this has failed a lot in this task.) This many formations engraved into the thing should make hiding what is inside of it a bit easier.
Let's just hope that tempers don't rise too much today. I don't want my trap revealed just because the giant got a bit excited and smacked the table with too much force. Now that I think about it there is a good chance this might actually happen. Even now, I can see the table tremble a little containing my little trap.
Well, let it get revealed. Even if they find out and catch me by surprise, I will still be able to activate the formation. The ensuing fight is enough to turn the fort into a wreck, but I will be able to take care of them. (Right?) The Soldiers are already hidden in a safe location. (The storehouse with the formation core.)
We really should start speaking already. The three Snowlords just stare at me as if they are waiting for something. There is nothing to look at in the room other than my three enemies. The room itself is quite bare. The only other thing that is worth noticing about the room is that it has a window. The view is pretty boring, showing the white and grey of the Northern Wastelands.
I forgot to mention it yesterday, but the other two Snowlords are a man and a woman. The woman is clearly a warrior, with the way in which she sits. She studies me in the same way that I would study a formation binding me. Only a fool would underestimate her.
It is the third man of the group that leaves me wary. I can get a grip on the other two people, but this last man is a mystery through and through. I can say that he is the weakest of the three. Still, looking at him triggers all of my instincts. There is something off about him and I can't find it. (Which makes the feeling even worse.)
Now that I am studying them, it is clear that the other two are supposed to be about as strong as the giant. The both of them are injured somehow. I would hazard that the arrival storms had something to do with this.
"Sage, if you are checking me out now. I would suggest that you keep your eyes to yourself," the lady Snowlord growls.
Turns out, I have been staring at the lady for a while. I have to suppress my will to apologise and explain myself. Instead, I speak as a Sage would.
"Why would I not, my lady? Such a fine physique you have," I reply. Don't judge me, all Sages tend to have the same personality. I wonder if you can call being horny a personality, though, the horny bastards.
"I have certainly not come here to be ogled at. I shall consider it an attack the next time that you do so," she replies, clearly used to it and quite annoyed at it.
"Certainly, my lady. I would not like to be attacked by you," I reply. A sage would make use of more expletives, but I think the enemy has yet to notice.
"Begin with an explanation, Sage," the giant says. "Why are you here? You are lucky the Spear Tribe did not find you. The ashes have barely settled in the Spear Valley. They would have made target practice out of you."
"I wouldn't know of which treaty you are speaking of," I lie, taking the most sarcastic tone that I can. It would kind of give away that I am not a Sage if I have no idea about a treaty they made. "Even if I did, I acted in self-defense. Do you expect me to follow any treaty while they attack me in my sleep? Do you expect me not to attack the creature that forced me to burn through my mana channels? Look at my southern gate and tell me if I should not have reacted as I did. Me fighting is the reason that I am still alive right now."
"The damn beasts are the only reason that you are alive right now, Sage. If we had not requested the Beastmaster to flood this place with Ice Beasts, the Spear Tribe would have detected and killed you by now," The lady growls. "We even had to fucking summon an arrival storm to cover your tracks. So answer the Young Master already. Why are you here?"
"Sage, the beasts would have been under strict orders not to kill you. It would be easier for the beasts to kill themselves than kill you," the giant replies, more tactfully. "The word of their Beastmaster is absolute to these creatures."
"Then am I to understand that this Beastmaster is behind this attack?" I say, regretting my words even as I speak them. "Because I was ambushed by your troop leaders. As if that was not enough, your creatures attacked me with such ferocity that I barely survived. My soldiers say that it is something called the death trance."
The only reply to this is that the giant opposite begins to laugh. His laugh is booming as is befitting his size. He is also pissed off if his fists are any indication. He is very bad at negotiations if he keeps his heart on his sleeves like this. He stops as he realizes that I am speaking seriously. I can see the confusion creep onto his face.
"There is no way that lord.....," the giant starts angrily.
The male Snowlord behind him begins to cough. As he does so, the man pauses as if he has been slapped. He quickly calms down after that.
"There is no way that the Beastmaster would have issued the final command or the death trance as you call it," the giant says. "It is only used in the worst scenario, for enemies that we have to absolutely kill. We have been tracking you since you stepped foot here. No action of yours could have provoked the Beastmaster to such a degree."
"There is one case where the Beastmaster would have done s..." the man to the side speaks turning to me, his voice silent yet clear. "Why are you here, Sage? We have been clear that your tribe's services are not needed here anymore."
"You don't need my help, but that doesn't mean that others don't," I speak, fear crawling my spine like a snake.
Both the lady and the giant have risen like dogs provoked into action at this. Yet, the thing that caused my heart to freeze is the man behind these two. He is still sitting as if he is deep in thought, piecing together things.
"You bastard," The giant suddenly gets up and slams the table, which thankfully holds. "You and your kind have agreed not to fight in this war. Remember what we have given to you, we can snatch back just as easily."
"Sure, I am right here. Let's see how you do it," I scream as I feel the limits of my patience.
"I must say that things are getting heated here, my friend," The third man speaks, with teasing condescension. "Can you show me one of your arts?"
The man's words are enough to put me in a dangerous spot. I can feel the room getting quieter with each passing moment as the other two Snowlords figure out their fellow's thoughts. To cast the arts of the sage requires a certain strength of that bloodline. That is something that I do not have. There is only one group of Sages that cannot use these abilities and they belong to the Legion.
"I wonder how it took you so long to figure out, you fools," I speak, with a chuckle. (Let's hope that they can't see my legs shiver. Being revealed this early wasn't a part of the plan.) "I thought you Snowlords were supposed to smell us Legioners out like a hunting wolf."
Fuck this, this has gone on for long enough. Mana flows into my arm as I slap the table. As it crumbles, my little trap is revealed.
It is a water spear, though not a normal one. I will speak about it in detail later, but for now, I grab it. The instant that I do so, the power of the spear overwhelms me. The mana in it washes into me like a tidal wave. I am surprised the spell model has not collapsed already. A lesser mage would have lost control already. I am no lesser mage, though, as I grasp the mana and direct it into me, ensuring that I do not lose control for even a second. The side effects of losing control would be deadly.
I don't even think as I siphon the mana flowing into me, forming it into the runes of a spell. I have already half-formed the runes as I realize that it is a mage hand.
With the mana I have put into it, the mage hand formed is the size of the giant. (The ones I usually create tend to be half the size of my own hands.) I do not waste any more mana as I direct the hand towards the giant. The force is enough to carry him right out of the window, and the hope is that it wiill take him a while to return.
I don't get to celebrate that victory as the lady has already begun to charge towards me. I am not even able to react as she punches me. I can feel my skull vibrate as I shatter through the wall behind me.
This was to be expected. There is no way that I will be able to fight any of the three in direct combat. That was never the plan in the first place for that reason.
"That was certainly rude, my lady," I speak out, trying to provoke this lady. I don't have mana for another mage hand, so I need to do something a bit more direct. "What else can be expected of the tribes? All of you are brut....."
I do not get to complete that as she slams me against the wall again. I can feel my teeth vibrate as the tangy, metallic scent of blood overwhelms me for a moment.
"You should be careful, you damn bastard," she says, as she begins to apply pressure on my throat. "The men of the legion have been killed for lesser. Especially a halfborn mutt like you."
As she says this, I cannot control myself as I spit on her face. (What, I really don't like being called a bastard.)
"How much lesser?" I squeak, almost on an impulse. The result is a tightening of her hands. I can feel my spine cracking. Are you supposed to be able to hear that?
"As long as you are of the legion, you have to be killed," she says, the venom in her throat surprising even me.
The world has begun to blacken around me as I finally stab into her eye with the spear. It barely penetrates her flesh, but it is enough of an opening as I push all of the mana in the spear into her body. I can feel it physically diminish until it dissipates completely. I can feel the pressure on my throat disappear.