"Soldiers! Today, you join my war. The bureaucrats in Varranir will tell you that this is a war for honor, but they have never experienced a Bangari raid. The Bangari spills blood like water. The Bangari kills, and kills, and kills, until everything around it is dead. When you fall to its horns and its claws and its Soulsteel, I will take your rations. I will drink your water. And I will wield your blade to kill more Bangari in honor of your spilt blood. When I fall, you shall take everything that sustained me to KEEP. ON. FIGHTING.. This is a war for survival and we are Soldiers. This is our Way."
"...Thank you for coming to our aid," The older mage said, his face a stoic mask that nonetheless let his exhaustion show through. His white and crimson robes, emblazoned on the chest with a nine-pointed star, seemed to fall from his frame to billow around him in the breeze, "We of course have food to spare, if field rations are acceptable."Ai thought he was a rather square man, all straight lines and right angles. He looked about forty or so, tall and muscular and his dark hair in a braid not too dissimilar from her own. He had a neatly trimmed beard that was just unkempt enough that it seemed like it was missing its usual meticulous maintenance, and his voice was a deep baritone, steady and measured despite the ordeal he had just been through."We are in your debt, karra. What might we call you?" He continued."Ayle," Ai offered. It was true, after a fashion. "I'm... a traveling mage. And that's Aru."She pointed at Aru, who had trotted over to the buried bandits to relieve himself on their exposed heads. He raised his head at the mention of his name, and gave a happy bork in lieu of an introduction."I see," The mage responded, "An auspicious alias, and well–deserved at that. Very well, Ayle. Please accept my heartfelt gratitude."An auspicious alias? Was the name so famous? It couldn't be her character's name could it?"I am Karravar Benessel, lately of the Citadel of Glass." The mage said, and Ai's thoughts screeched to a halt.Karravar Benessel. He said it like it was a rank or title. Ai still had no idea how long it had been since the World Quest's conclusion, since [Stormold], her guildmates, and who knows how many others, had arrived in Varrah. Did they play nation-builder in her absence?A pang of longing—she would've loved building a nation together with her guildmates.But Ai needed to know more. Had her friends founded an order of mages? A nation? What did it mean to these people to be a Karravar?Most importantly, could following this thread of inquiry lead her to her guildmates?"...And this is my Aspirant, Sarila. Sarila, introduce yourself." Benessel, oblivious to Ai's internal turmoil, gestured for the young woman at his side to speak."Hello, Miss Ayle. I'm Sarila. Please call me Sari," She said, clearly out of sorts from the battle but trying her best to be polite.Sari looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, with sleek black hair that came down to her shoulders, a button nose, and raven black eyes. She wore similar robes to Benessel, but with azure trim and notably without the nine-pointed star that he sported. She was an Aspirant, apparently. Did that make her Benessel's apprentice?Benessel abruptly fell to one knee with a pained grunt, his hand pressed against the ground to steady himself."Master!" Sari cried in alarm."I'm fine, Sarila," Benessel breathed, though the sweat beading on his grimaced brow suggested otherwise. He looked up at Ai, his professional demeanor cracking to reveal a profound exhaustion. "Forgive me. We have been hounded by those bandits for three days and have been driven far off course."I have been forced to beseech holy Nor for a new Ve'un each night. As you can see, this has left me diminished," He shakily rose to his feet. "Ayle. I will be blunt. By order of his Excellency the Chancellor, our caravan is tasked with the delivery of essential supplies to Outpost Avna. From there, we will be traveling to Ashakir to receive further orders."You are a powerful mage. Accompany us as our guard, at least until we reach Ashakir. On my honor as a Karravar of the Varran Republic, you will be compensated fully upon our arrival to the city."Ai didn't need to think long. By fate or happenstance, these mages and their caravan were headed to where she needed to go."I won't need payment," Ai decided, "Ashakir is along the coast, yes? I have business with the Ikkas and require passage. If you can help me find a ship that can take me there, that's all the payment I need."Just then, her stomach, which had been mercifully quiet thus far, let out another long, mournful growl."...but three meals a day wouldn't hurt either."A faint smile touched Benessel's lips."We have an accord," He nodded, then turned to his student, "Sarila. We camp here for the night. Attend to the men; if I understand the Soldier's Way correctly, they must butcher the fallen Golga tonight to salvage what they can."Sari nodded, a fist raised to her heart in salute."I must rest if I am to maintain the caravan's safety tonight. See to it that Ayle has whatever she needs—rations, a bedroll, a place to sleep," Benessel turned to Ai, "Ayle. I must have a word in private with my Aspirant. If you could…""I'll be over there then," Ai nodded, "Over here, Aru!"
It hadn't taken long for Sari to return from whatever Benessel had had to say to her.Settling in was simple, as the only belongings Ai had were her endgame traveling robes and [Eye of the Storm], which was nestled into a hidden pocket sewn into the inside.Ai chewed on a piece of jerky as she observed Sari, who was making her way up and down the caravan.She found herself with a rising respect for the young woman. With Benessel resting, the burden of command apparently rested on Sari's shoulders. She bore it with a quiet competence that was impressive to watch. She was earnest and inquisitive with an open ear to the caravaneers' words, but each decision she made was tightly bound by the strictures of her rank.Being a Karravar's Aspirant apparently meant being their adjutant as well.The prisoners had been shackled with proper manacles and herded into a carriage whose cargo had been hastily redistributed among the others in the caravan. They'd lucked out; a few of the caravaneers had experience dealing with Domga, so their bone-headed mounts had been tied along with enchanted rope and kept calm with a few pieces of fruit.The Orgawyr was much more difficult to deal with, requiring the touch of a mage. It seemed that Sari was up to the challenge—during Dirge, it had been commonplace for Orgawyr riders to use an organic control jewel that grew in the back of the beasts' heads to establish a mental rapport. The bandit leader had been carrying this particular Orgawyr's jewel on her person, so it had been a simple matter of searching her and taking it so that the beast could be managed once it woke up.After seeing that the bandits had been dealt with, it seemed like the entire caravan came to Sari for her aid in one capacity or another. Merchants with damaged cargo, guards with wounded comrades, and any other caravaneers that needed last-minute decisions all came to Sari, and she addressed each of their concerns with a calm, methodical patience.It was hard to believe that so many people were involved in the operation of a scant ten carriages, but Ai couldn't doubt her own eyes.As she watched Sari work, she could see that the girl's heart wasn't quite in the logistical needs of the caravan. Her eyes kept straying back to Ai, her expression filled with a thousand unanswered questions.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience."How did you do it?" Sari finally blurted out, as she finished dealing with the last of the caravaneers, "Your magic. Your weave was nothing like I've ever seen—no ritual invocation I could make out, no beseechment of any gods. I don't see how it can be done with so few semiotic links.""A large Semblance helps, and mine's larger than most," Ai began, "Do you know what that is?""Yes, of course." Sari said, seemingly offended."Then let's talk about the magic. Do you remember the last spell I used? The one I used on the Orgawyr?" Ai pressed, undeterred."Y… yes, I think so. [Force], for the kinetic impartment. Then [Repetition] and [Trinity]. The logic itself is elegant—self-evident—but I don't understand how you managed to do what you did with only those three links." Sari responded."Well, you have all the pieces I used to weave it," Ai raised an eyebrow, "I feel like it's pretty straight-forward to figure it out from there.""Forgive me Miss Ayle, but I graduated top of my class at the Academy to win my placement at the side of Karravar Benessel, who himself is a leading expert of the ka. If neither I nor Master Benessel understood your spell, it wasn't straight-forward." Sari began."If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were telling us a story in order to impart conceptual weight onto your strike. But I know of no hermetic tradition that allows a practitioner to weave narrative directly into spellwork."That was fair, Ai supposed. Even in the days of Dirge, players had overwhelmingly tended to specialize in their spellcraft because that was how the game was built.Magic was an exercise in self-hypnosis. You had to fool yourself into believing that something that plainly couldn't happen actually would. You had to believe it strongly enough, or together with enough people, and with enough dedication, that the world—the game engine, in her day—accepted your belief. Your roleplay was your specialization.It was a double-edged sword, because if you weren't careful, you'd become unable to interact with the world in any other way. The longer you played that role, the more you became it.In order to truly master magic, like she and her Karravar [kava] had done, you had to transcend your own biases like a chameleon might wear new colors, and still earnestly believe in each of them as if they were your own.The irony was not lost on her that it could be argued that that was simply another form of self-delusion."I think it would help you to remember that tradition isn't the only thing with meaning in this world, Sari." Ai simply said, after a moment of deliberation. "All magic tells a story. You just need to tell the right story for the situation, that's all.""I can teach you if you like," She offered, "It's easy once you get the hang of it."Sari was shocked into silence."...just like that?""Just like that. Consult your Master if you need to. Knowledge should be shared, not hoarded," Ai smiled.Sari nodded mutely, apparently bewildered at the offer.
The sun was setting in the distance as the caravan began to wind down into the night.The caravan's wagons and carriages, which had traveled in a single line for most of the day, now curled around in a defensive circle, with Benessel's carriage at its heart.Ai sat with Aru on the roof of one of the carriages, idly scratching behind his ears as he rested his head on her lap. He grumbled and hummed happily as her fingers hit a particularly itchy spot, eliciting a smile from her.As the day turned to night, it was time for Benessel to cast his Ve'un.This was her first opportunity to see one cast by a mage of this era—whenever this was—and Ai was curious to see what she could learn. If she was lucky, she'd gain some insight into why her own attempt to cast what should've been a straightforward Ve'un resulted in such a spectacular failure.Benessel emerged from his carriage as the sun began to truly set.He was clad in his Karravar robes, long and flowing, each step deliberate and measured as he walked in a ring around his carriage. Eventually, he returned where he started, stomping his foot into the ground as he did.Then he began to weave.The spell began with the foundational structure of [Sun]-[Perpetuity]-[World]-[Humanity]-[Divinity], much like her own Ve'un had. Unlike her, Benessel invoked the chain of ideas necessary for the spell with a ritualistic flourish, making sweeping gestures and chanting lyrically in what sounded like Varran poetry.The semiotic links that defined the Ve'un were laid out one by one: [Sun] linked to [Perpetuity], which anchored the [World], which defined [Humanity], which in turn created and was created by [Divinity].But then came the rest.On top of the foundation of the Ve'un—which had remained largely the same since its initial creation during the early years of A Dirge for the Sun—Benessel began to layer a litany of other concepts. For a moment, Ai didn't understand what she was sensing.Benessel wasn't casting a spell of his own power and will, like Ai and the players of the game would have. He was invoking the name of the god-engine Nor, not as a magical device powered by the idea of divinity, but as a literal god, a distant and mighty sovereign that demanded supplication. The spell quickly became a long and convoluted chain of meaning that felt utterly alien in its structure.[Thirteenth Sun-Ninth Moon-Seven-Hundred-Fifty-Eigth-Year]-[Humble-Request]-[Beseechment-Blessing]-[Certification-Karravar]-...The modern version of Ve'un seemed to appeal to the religious authority of Nor, which was then tied to the authority of a Varran Republic and its bureaucracy through a haze of seals, symbols, and oaths, as if the weave was less the casting of a magical spell but rather a lengthy and tedious process of official sanction.She had a date, as well. If she was reading things correctly, the spell also codified the time and place. Seven hundred and fifty eight years. That was how long it had been since the completion of the World Quest.With a final shout, Benessel completed the weave—and the spell was ratified.A soft golden light bloomed from Benessel's position, expanding outwards in a shimmering dome that washed over the entire caravan.A hypothesis was quickly forming in Ai's mind.Centuries of tradition, politics, and worship had calcified onto the original weave. What was meant to freely offer protection from the Veh across the continent had become a religious rite bound by tradition and dogma.Her original spell, tied to the very foundation of the god-engine during the World Quest, was no longer sufficient, not if she wanted to access the same conceptual wellspring that was tied to Nor. The spell had been carved too deeply into reality.She had needed to resort to anchoring her new Ve'un to [Eye of the Storm] in order to provide the [Divinity] the spell required. In a way, she supposed, this could be considered proof that Varrah had grown past her own contributions.But it still only explained part of her own failure back at the tomb. Seven and a half centuries of growth, that she was—understandably—unfamiliar with only explained why the spell failed to find purchase. It did not explain the hostile intent she had felt that had unraveled her spell even as it failed to coalesce.Something was very, very wrong. That feeling hadn't come out of nowhere. There was something else at play in the world, something that defied explanation that was both hostile to her and powerful enough to rip apart magic that she of all people was weaving.Ai had met a Karravar, whatever that meant in this era. She had a potential heading into Ikkasir, whether through luck or providence. But whatever it had been that had torn her magic apart, that insidious, threatening force, remained a mystery.It was a good thing she loved mysteries.