Runeblade

Standing in a field of cooling corpses, Kaius gave the strange mage a friendly wave. He was still a good ways off, up the hill and far away from the front lines.

Even if the man hadn’t fled when he suggested, he’d done his best, and had moved exactly where a backline caster was supposed to be. Evidently, despite his difficulties, he’d been well trained, as evident by casting spells under hampered pursuit and moving to support as soon as he was able.

All the more curious that he was out here alone and underleveled, despite it being a couple of weeks since the phase shift.

The mage slumped at his friendly gesture, some of the stiff tension leaving him. He approached, drawing closer to the site of their victory. Behind him, he felt Porkchop fall in behind him, though he knew his brother intended to stay silent. No need to completely give the game away, even if it was almost certain the mage had noticed something off with the spells he was casting.

Kaius could only hope he was a reasonable man, and that they need not resort to harsh measures to ensure his silence.

The mage drew his head back, revealing his features. They confirmed his lineage as an elven halfling at the very least. He was slightly taller than even Kaius, but of a lithe and willowy build. Not thin and spindly by any means, but noticeably different from his own broad frame.

Long platinum hair framed his face like unwoven silk, contrasting piercing blue eyes. The fact he was a half-elf was even more of an oddity than his presence in the wilds. With how insular elves were, halflings were rare.

Kaius could only hope the man hadn’t had too rough of a go at it. Father had told him of the fate of most halflings. Nigh on ostracised by full elves, they stood out like sore thumbs due to their height and fae features in human society. While they might not be as exaggerated as a full elf, Kaius could see the man's sharp ears pointing through his hair.

Most, he’d heard, caught the brunt of wider society's distaste for what was seen as elvish narcissism, treating them with scorn and distrust.

Still, evidently the man had done well for himself. Elves were a curious race, their bodies possessing an uncommon vitality and quickened minds that leant to long lived lives of inventive craft, magic, and scholarship. When crossed with the natural stubborn willfulness of humans, it provided a strong base for stats to build upon, a good foundation for the academic and mystic arts.

The light mage stopped a good twenty strides away, pausing as he rapidly looked between himself and Porkchop, apprehension on his face.

“Thank you for the rescue, kind traveller, I am the one known as Ianmus, a solar mage and graduate of the Sunspire of Mystral.” the half-elf said, introducing himself with a stiff bow.

A mage of Mystral, that explained much, but also raised more questions. At the very least, it explained Ianmus’s capability; the magi of the college spires were universally renowned for their talents. Yet, they were nearly as insular as the elves, preferring to lock themselves away in the study of the arcane rather than do much else. What on earth was a recent graduate doing here?

Still, there was no need to be rude.

“Nice to meet you, Ianmus. I am Kaius, warrior of the frontier, and this is my companion, Porkchop. I’m happy to have helped, no way I was about to let you fall afoul of beasts in times like these. Though, I must ask, what is a graduate doing out here anyway?” Kaius questioned.

Ianmus paused, an abashed look crossing his face as he scratched the back of his head.

“Well… I have somewhat of a preference for novel findings and field research, unlike many of my colleagues. Unfortunately, most novel findings are found in rather…unpleasant places, so I was making a trek to the Greenseed Dukedoms, in hopes of joining one of their ceremonial wars. It would have been fantastic for skill levelling.” Ianmus replied, smiling to himself rather ruefully.

Kaius looked at the solar mage in surprise. He hadn’t realised the Dukedoms were having another war, especially now of all times. Though, he knew little about them beyond that they were mostly pomp and circumstance, at least according to the scoffing derision of the frontier folk.

“And you thought now was the time to travel overland? As a mage alone?” Kaius asked, struggling to keep the disbelief out of his voice. Perhaps he’d given the graduate too much credit, such a move was unbelievably stupid. Normal magi, at least at low levels, were fucked in a direct confrontation, exactly like what had happened to the man.

“Ah. That. I left two weeks before the transition, when the worst I expected to cross was the odd boggart, or perhaps an irontusk that could be avoided. By the time the shift hit, I was already far from the main roads, so I adjusted my course to Deadacre. Unfortunately, I wasn’t lucky enough to avoid trouble on the way.” Ianmus said, wincing at his misfortune. However, Kaius did note that the mage kept looking over to Porkchop with increasing regularity.

Still, Kaius had his sympathies for the man. He only hoped that there weren’t too many suffering the same fate, it burned to think how many unprepared travellers had lost their lives due to his own inadvertent actions.

Responsibility pressed upon him. He was, if not intentionally, the reason Ianmus had nearly died. It would only be right to see him to his destination, especially since it was the same as his own.

“Then you have a second stroke of luck, Ianmus of Sunspire. I am also heading to Deadacre, so I would be happy to accompany you on your journey.” Kaius offered, though he didn’t have the man's full attention.

“Thank you, I don’t know if I would make it without your assistance…” the mage said, trailing off as he gave up pretense to stare at Porkchop with an open mix of disbelief, shock, and mild horror.

Kaius bit his cheek, suppressing his urge to curse. He knew. Of course he knew. A wave of prickling frustration at his own lacking thought rushed through him. Greater meles might be obscure and poorly known outside of the communities that boarded the sea, and the conclaves within, but an academy trained half-elf was exactly the sort of person who would recognise one.

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Immediately he reached out through his bond. He might not like using the silent speech it allowed, but he could do it just fine, and the situation warranted it.

“He knows. I know we planned on slipping glyph-binding and your nature out at some point, but it's still too early.” Kaius said, apprehension gnawing at him.

“Just talk to the man, Kaius. We have time to get his measure, and need not make any hasty decisions. It is no fault of his own, remember?” Porkchop replied, still calm as he met the half-elf’s gaze with poorly disguised amusement. To him, at least. Kaius had no idea how good other people were at interpreting his brother's expressions.

Kaius breathed, slowing his thumping heart. It was true, and something that he had already intended on. It was just that glyph-binding would be far easier to wave off as a simple facet of an interesting class or meta-magic if the man did not know he was travelling with a greater beast.

Still, it was the right thing to do. He drifted to memories of his Father’s words of wisdom, shared when he had first began to feel the weight of holding the secret of a legacy.

…

They sat at a campfire, resting after a painful and exhausting day of training his Poison Resistance. At the very least, the strange brews his father fed him, as many and varied as they were, did little more than inspire fugue, or itchy rashes. Nothing truly dangerous.

Father stirred the cooking pot with a whittled stick, staring at the bubbling stew like it would cook faster if he just thought hard enough. Yet, that held little of Kaius’s attention, as he stared into the flames.

He’d started to feel a weight. Of fear and unease. He was old enough now, to question their circumstances. The burden of their legacy was a heavy one, and one that had clearly brought them ruin before. What would he do, if someone found out?

“What is it, boy? you got that look you get when you’re thinking too hard.” Father said gruffly.

“What am I supposed to do if someone discovers our secrets? Must it come to violence?” he asked, his voice small as flickering orange danced in front of his eyes.

Father sighed, the sound backed by the weight of years. “Sometimes, but hopefully rarely. It depends on who finds out, and what the secret is.” Father said, not looking up from his impatient prodding of their dinner.

“A member of decent folk, stumbling across something small by happenstance? That is no great thing. You simply become friends, or welcome allies at the least. You make it so they would never dream of revealing your secrets. If they are pressed to the point they must tell, you already cocked something up, fierce enough that people are on your tail anyway.” Father muttered.

The words assuaged his worries, blanketing some of his deepest fears. He didn’t want to be a killer, not like that. Still…

“What if they are not of a good sort, and they learn something large?” he asked.

Father frowned, different from the ones that he saw when he made a mistake in training. It was harder. Jaded.

“Those, my boy. Those you kill.” Father said, his tone pitiless.

….

Kaius breathed, letting the memory wash over him. It still stung, to think of Father. Of his passing. But the man's wisdom had yet to fail him, and he was nothing if not filial.

He just hoped that Ianmus was a good sort, and proved as such over the coming weeks.

Perhaps realising the obviousness of his blatant stare at Porkchop, Ianmus’s face snapped back to his own.

“...Would it really be alright for me to accompany you?” the mage half whispered, near fear crossing his features.

Kaius forced a grin on his face, before he moved his hands so that his open palms were shown to the man, and well away from his belted blade.

“Guess it was a bit much to hope to fly under the radar around a half-elf academic, eh?” he joked, keeping his tone light and even. He hoped the fact that both he and Porkchop were drenched in beast blood didn’t ruin the impression.

“I don't know what you mean?” Ianmus attempted, tense, like he might bolt at any moment.

Kaius watched the mage's wide eyes trace the black script that curved around his hand and traced his wrist.

“It’s alright friend. It’s no great secret. One that we certainly hope to keep under wraps for now, but one we understand will come to light eventually. We’re just looking to build a little strength and backing first. I am sure you would understand, as a mage of Mystral. As long as you hold no designs on us, you will find no trouble here.” Kaius said, trying to comfort the mage.

It seemed to work to middling effectiveness. On one hand, Ianmus relaxed ever so slightly, at least sure he wasn’t in imminent danger. On the other, the mage still watched him with suspicion, and was clearly ready to bolt.

“Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that a man with mysterious magic and a greater meles for a companion, with far more strength than they should have, would not want to silence observers.” Ianmus replied.

Kaius chuckled. “There's a story for everything, and you might find ours interesting. Besides, I would have left you to die if I was that kind of man.” he assured. “What say you to a lunch, at the very least? Maybe half a league closer to Deadacre, so we don’t have beasts coming to investigate the kills?”

Ianmus paused, watching him intently as he searched for any sign of deceit. Evidently he found none.

“A lunch, at the least. I haven't eaten well in weeks.” Ianmus replied.

Kaius grinned. “Well, that is one problem I can solve for certain. Let me dress one of these birds and we can be on our way.”

Kaius turned, making his way to one of the decapitated terror birds that had so helpfully already drained its corpse of blood. Drawing his hunting knife, he did a quick job of gutting the beast, leaving him with a person’s weight of meat and hide.

“Nice to meet you, mage. I hope you are less annoying than your full blooded relatives.” Kaius heard his bond-brother say, speaking to Ianmus behind him.

Ianmus spluttered, clearly not prepared for Porkchop’s meagre tolerance for elvish pestering.

“I…am? At least I hope I am less foppish and haughty. I know the myths and customs, but I grew up in Mystral. My father left when I was young.” Ianmus replied, his voice growing bitter as he spoke of his heritage. Kaius was unsurprised, knowing what he did about the lives of most half-elves.

“Thank the Matriarchs. There’s only so much flattery I can handle, and I have yet to meet a full elf who doesn’t far overestimates the limit.” Porkchop grumbled.

Kaius smiled, and finished up his rough butchery. It was a hack job, but enough for now.

He hefted the carcass with ease, the weight of it light to his enhanced strength as he draped it over his shoulder. After a lifetime of hard living, Kaius felt entirely unperturbed by the remnant trickles of blood that left the beast and coated his armour. It wasn’t like he wasn’t drenched anyway.

Walking over to his bond-brother, he put his foot through one of the leather loops of his ‘saddle’ before he grabbed the barding and hauled himself up onto his brother's back, terror bird carcass and all.

“Well then, shall we be off?” he asked, shooting Ianmus a grin.

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