Tag: fiction

When I became spontaneously attuned to magic in my youth, there were no other arcanists around. It wasn’t until I left home, a man, that I learned that we can sense one another. I can sense Val Maxis’s power now. It feels like standing near a blacksmith’s forge, arcana radiating off him like heat. I can only imagine what it… Read more →

I am assigned to the medic division. In the march back to Nodkis I had been routed from Sergeant to Lieutenant to Major to Colonel until coming to stand before Chief Medic Artin. Unlike other refugee-conscripts who are fueled by a sentimental rush to fight for their home, I have already negotiated a wage. As an apothecary I am adequate,… Read more →

In my travels, I have learned that each nation has its own pantheon of gods. Indeed, the borders of nations are, first and foremost, based around creed before being further refined by things such as race or geography. Here in Elysium they are devoted to Risha, Kurdu, and Ard Agdawn. In Dromatica it is the All Father, Tliamach, and Ismadrial.… Read more →

I encounter Buknar Vull’s troops early on the fourth day when I intersect the main road, the first notable thing that has occurred since I left town, thankfully. Naturally, they are en route to Nodkis. The troops are caught off guard as I walk from the tree line and the nearest squad draws weapons. “Identify yourself!” I hold my hands… Read more →

Though it has been nearly a decade since I lived beyond the protection of a town, the lessons learned during my innumerable years surviving in the wilderness all across the continent are not far from my mind. My journeys have taken me farther from my homeland, far to the east, every few years until I reached Nodkis. A small village… Read more →

As the sword is pulled out, I do the one thing that might bide me some time from whatever danger has approached. I shove her gently backward out the door while I step to the side. Her body falls limply through the doorway and tumbles down the short stair into the dusty street. Through the swinging of the door I… Read more →

With practiced skill, I overtly ignore the patron who is perusing the wares of my apothecary shop for the third time. I have seen her kind plenty of times. No doubt she’d heard about the exotic man who ran the apothecary shop just on the other side of the road from where the bad side of town began. Some just… Read more →