Atissa’s mind was blank. She knew she was panicking. Unable to form a decision, she stayed where she was, perched behind a tree. Shivering.
This was all too much. She had been afraid since she saw her uncle kneeling on the ground, his head bleeding. Was he conscious? In pain?
She had turned to Mark, and he had helped her. While he hadn’t used his magi powers directly, he had given her an answer as to what she should do. At that moment she had felt so sure. Sure of herself. Sure, of his guidance. Sure that he had been steadily preparing her with his lessons.
But she had failed. Her plan hadn’t worked. The first arrow had found its target, but the second man had reacted too quickly.
Atissa was used to hunting. With animals, you only had one target and one chance. If they noticed you or you missed, they would sprint off and you went hungry.
She hadn’t anticipated the reaction of an experienced warrior and she scolded herself for it. Tatros had told her enough stories from his warrior days. A bowman had a lot of advantages. The greatest was the ability to kill from a distance. But a man with a shield could run him down.
Her third arrow had barely slowed the man down. Panicking, it didn’t even occur to her to run away. If Mark hadn’t intervened, she would have died.
Atissa did not want to think about that anymore. She wanted to close her eyes, but she also couldn’t bring herself to look away from the man towering over her uncle.
Mark’s words had brought her back when she was about to break after killing the warrior with his own axe. She could still see his ruined face in her mind.
Her plan was still good. They could still do this. With just a few words Mark had reinvigorated her. She could do this.
But that was before.
As she laid eyes on the magi, she felt all her confidence drain out of her. There was no mistaking the man’s identity. He seemed to radiate power and authority. The staff with the golden symbol of his god. The long beard. Intricate embroidery decorated the seam of his robe. How can I face this, she thought?
Mark had come up behind her and paused for a moment before tapping on her shoulder. After a moment, he tapped on her shoulder. It garnered no reaction. She was transfixed.
After waiting in vain for her reaction, she could feel his hand around her arm, carefully pulling her back behind the cover of a large tree.
“It appears that you were right.” His voice was calm with just a hint of concern. “Another two left. You will have to explain to me how you knew, once this is over.”
She just stared at the ground. What was she supposed to do?
“It will be difficult to surprise them…” His voice drifted off as he noticed how withdrawn she was. “What’s going on with you Atissa?” He shook her gently.
The sudden shaking awakened something inside her. Atissa pushed his hand away.
“Why are you not doing anything? You are a magi, too, are you not?” She could only do so much to keep her voice from trembling.
Rationally, she understood that the world didn’t work like that. Magi served their gods. Worldly matters only concerned them if they so chose. Atissa knew all this. Right here, right now, she did not care. Uncle Tatros could die, she thought.
They were staring at each other. Atissa’s face was contorted by all the emotion she felt. The desperate fear for her uncle. Mark’s face was mostly blank with a hint of irritation.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You carry the staff. And your strange clothing. Everything about you is… mysterious!” The words broke out of her. All the questions she had wanted to ask the whole time. No, that was not important right now. Please, help me, she thought!
Mark's eyes wandered from her to the staff. He looked almost surprised that he was carrying it. Considering the symbols that decorated the upper third, he shook his head. “They do look weird. As I said before, this is not mine. I found it after my accident.”
“Come out and face judgment!”
Mark’s attention turned back to the scene at the house. He carefully peered around the tree. When he looked back at Atissa there was a strange expression on his face. Reluctance? Atissa was not sure.
“Look. I think your plan can still work. That old guy seems to be unarmed. If you sneak around”, he pointed to the left,” you should be able to shoot the guy with the spear in the back.”
Unarmed, a magi? Atissa felt baffled.
She waited for Mark to continue, watching him carefully. What was he thinking? Maybe his gods would not want him to help.
When he finally spoke again, Atissa’s heart jumped in her chest. “When you are in place, I will go down there and distract them. Maybe I can get them to walk away in peace. Or at least to take the spear from your uncle's back.” He made another pause.
Atissa just waited, hoping he would continue. He will help us. He will face the magi, she thought.
“If they agree to leave, let them. If he takes the spear out of your uncle’s back, take the shot”, Mark said. “If anything goes wrong, take the shot, too. Ok?” He looked down at her his eyebrow raised.
Atissa nodded vigorously. “I understand. I will not fail you!”
“Sure.” Mark smiled at her. Somewhat. His gods must really not like his intervention.
“I know you are there. Assan can see you!” The voice of the magi droned through the woods.
Atissa hurried as much as she could, while still making sure to stay undetected. The experience of growing up in these woods guided her steps. She chose a spot flanking the waiting men and their hostage.
There wasn’t a way to get behind them. The house would be in the way whichever angle she approached from. Instead, she selected a vantage point directly to the men’s left. It was far from ideal, but it was her only option. Taking a shaking breath, she watched the spearman. He carried a shield in his left hand. If he didn’t move it, she’d have to aim for his neck. A small target, easy to miss, especially if he moved.
Focusing on her breathing, she waited. You are hunting. You know what to do, she thought. She placed two bronze-tipped arrows in her left hand that was holding the bow’s grip and put the last of her own to the string. Familiar with the weight and balance, it would give her the best chance.
Mark stepped out from behind the trees. He had said he would count to two hundred, to give her enough time.
He had to be really good at counting.
The spearmen noticed him first. Atissa could see him tense. He shuffled slightly to the left to face the approaching stranger.
Good, she thought. He had just exposed more of his side to her.
Her greatest fear was the tip of his spear pointing directly at her uncle’s back. Even at this distance, she was unsure if her arrow would stop him from stabbing Tatros. She had seen fatally wounded animals take off countless times. It took time to die from blood loss.
The spearman looked to the magi, his face an unspoken question. The magi ignored him. He faced Mark with a slow deliberate motion. Every hand’s breadth of him emanated a sense of superiority. This was a man of power. Allied with a god, he had nothing to fear.
Then there was a crack.
Atissa saw it in the magi’s posture. The tension in his shoulders. The surety of being the untouchable predator vanished.
Mark stopped five paces away. For a moment, the two men just stood there, their staffs planted firmly on the ground.
“I heard your shout, but it took me a moment to come over,” Mark said, breaking the silence first. Atissa couldn’t tell if he was nervous. When he had come out, he had given the spearman one or two nervous glances. But looking at the magi now - nothing. He doesn’t have to fear him, he is just afraid for uncle, Atissa thought.
“I am Asreios,” the magi said, his voice booming as if addressing a crowd. “. “Servant of the great god Assan. In service of sar Assanadon who has claimed this valley and all its inhabitants for the great god.”
Atissa was shocked. The Assanaten empire had come to conquer the remote Half-Moon valley, a place far away from the Golden Road. It made no sense.
“I am Mark Douglas,” Mark said. “It is nice to make your acquaintance.” His words were polite, yet Atissa felt that they were somehow insufficient, compared to the grandeur of Asreois’ announcement.
The magi seemed to agree with her. He waited for Mark to continue but when he realized that the short greeting was all Mark intended to say, Atissa could sense his tension grow.
“I have not heard your name, master. But of course, I do recognize that.” He waved his hand in the direction of Mark’s staff. “You are of the circle of Nemki? One of the seven sages?”
Mark frowned. “I would like to talk about this man,” he nodded toward uncle Tatros, without taking his eyes off the man in front of him.
“My men… did you slay them?” the magi asked.
Mark took a moment before he answered, considering his counterpart. “They are dead,” he said. “It was not what I wished for, but they came with weapons in hand.”
The magi nodded. “Are you here to oppose us, then? To defend this valley?”
Atissa held her breath.
“I am just a traveler. I lost the road. These… this man gave me shelter.” Mark paused for a heartbeat. “I would like to take him with me. There is no need for further violence.”
The magi starred at Mark, then down at uncle Tatros. “I was led here by a deviation. A vision of violence and disaster.” His eyes returned to Mark.
Mark’s frown deepened. “Well, that should be easy enough to avoid.”
“It should?”
“We just take our people and walk away in peace.” Mark waved his hand in a circle encompassing their surroundings. “There is no reason this has to blow up.”
The magi stiffened. So did Atissa.
She could barely imagine the power Mark described. The house, the trees, the people. Would he conjure a storm?
The threat was clear. Hand over your prisoner or your vision becomes true. Right here, right now.
The magi had clearly understood as well. Atissa could imagine the question in his mind. Am I predator or prey? His eyes moved from Mark’s face to his staff and back.
It started as a light odor.
Atissa recognized the smell and almost gagged. A heartbeat later the stench of death and decay was everywhere.
The warrior made half a step backward, growing pale just as uncle Tatros started to cough.
Mark held his free hand before his face. “What is that?”
Instinctively, Atissa wanted to turn and run. Her senses were better than most people’s and it took all her willpower to stay in place and focus on the scene in front of her.
The magi was the only one that had not moved at all. He was just standing there, watching Mark with wide eyes.
Then Atissa noticed the air around the tip of his staff simmering. Was this magic?
“I apologize, but whatever this is…maybe we should all move on from here.” Mark’s expression was open. He was smiling politely. “This smell, whatever it is, cannot be healthy.”
He is ignoring it as if he doesn’t care, Atissa thought! The Assanaten magi seemed to be as shocked as she was.
It took him a couple of heartbeats to close his mouth. “You say, you aren’t here to oppose the servants of Assan?” he asked. “You just want this man?”
“Yes. I want to leave this place as soon as possible,” Mark said. “Preferably, without being involved in local politics.”
The magi hesitated for another moment. Then he gave the warrior a signal. “Release him!”
The man complied immediately.
Her uncle’s bonds were cut. With relief, Atissa saw Tatros sitting back and carefully rubbing his wrists.
“We will retreat then,” the magi said. “Farewell honored sage of Nemki.” He bowed to Mark before turning away and quickly retreating in the direction of the village.
Atissa watched them in amazement. She hadn’t heard of these sages before, but it seemed as if Mark was even more amazing than she could have guessed.
Atissa’s mind was blank. She knew she was panicking. Unable to form a decision, she stayed where she was, perched behind a tree. Shivering.
This was all too much. She had been afraid since she saw her uncle kneeling on the ground, his head bleeding. Was he conscious? In pain?
She had turned to Mark, and he had helped her. While he hadn’t used his magi powers directly, he had given her an answer as to what she should do. At that moment she had felt so sure. Sure of herself. Sure, of his guidance. Sure that he had been steadily preparing her with his lessons.
But she had failed. Her plan hadn’t worked. The first arrow had found its target, but the second man had reacted too quickly.
Atissa was used to hunting. With animals, you only had one target and one chance. If they noticed you or you missed, they would sprint off and you went hungry.
She hadn’t anticipated the reaction of an experienced warrior and she scolded herself for it. Tatros had told her enough stories from his warrior days. A bowman had a lot of advantages. The greatest was the ability to kill from a distance. But a man with a shield could run him down.
Her third arrow had barely slowed the man down. Panicking, it didn’t even occur to her to run away. If Mark hadn’t intervened, she would have died.
Atissa did not want to think about that anymore. She wanted to close her eyes, but she also couldn’t bring herself to look away from the man towering over her uncle.
Mark’s words had brought her back when she was about to break after killing the warrior with his own axe. She could still see his ruined face in her mind.
Her plan was still good. They could still do this. With just a few words Mark had reinvigorated her. She could do this.
But that was before.
As she laid eyes on the magi, she felt all her confidence drain out of her. There was no mistaking the man’s identity. He seemed to radiate power and authority. The staff with the golden symbol of his god. The long beard. Intricate embroidery decorated the seam of his robe. How can I face this, she thought?
Mark had come up behind her and paused for a moment before tapping on her shoulder. After a moment, he tapped on her shoulder. It garnered no reaction. She was transfixed.
After waiting in vain for her reaction, she could feel his hand around her arm, carefully pulling her back behind the cover of a large tree.
“It appears that you were right.” His voice was calm with just a hint of concern. “Another two left. You will have to explain to me how you knew, once this is over.”
She just stared at the ground. What was she supposed to do?
“It will be difficult to surprise them…” His voice drifted off as he noticed how withdrawn she was. “What’s going on with you Atissa?” He shook her gently.
The sudden shaking awakened something inside her. Atissa pushed his hand away.
“Why are you not doing anything? You are a magi, too, are you not?” She could only do so much to keep her voice from trembling.
Rationally, she understood that the world didn’t work like that. Magi served their gods. Worldly matters only concerned them if they so chose. Atissa knew all this. Right here, right now, she did not care. Uncle Tatros could die, she thought.
They were staring at each other. Atissa’s face was contorted by all the emotion she felt. The desperate fear for her uncle. Mark’s face was mostly blank with a hint of irritation.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You carry the staff. And your strange clothing. Everything about you is… mysterious!” The words broke out of her. All the questions she had wanted to ask the whole time. No, that was not important right now. Please, help me, she thought!
Mark's eyes wandered from her to the staff. He looked almost surprised that he was carrying it. Considering the symbols that decorated the upper third, he shook his head. “They do look weird. As I said before, this is not mine. I found it after my accident.”
“Come out and face judgment!”
Mark’s attention turned back to the scene at the house. He carefully peered around the tree. When he looked back at Atissa there was a strange expression on his face. Reluctance? Atissa was not sure.
“Look. I think your plan can still work. That old guy seems to be unarmed. If you sneak around”, he pointed to the left,” you should be able to shoot the guy with the spear in the back.”
Unarmed, a magi? Atissa felt baffled.
She waited for Mark to continue, watching him carefully. What was he thinking? Maybe his gods would not want him to help.
When he finally spoke again, Atissa’s heart jumped in her chest. “When you are in place, I will go down there and distract them. Maybe I can get them to walk away in peace. Or at least to take the spear from your uncle's back.” He made another pause.
Atissa just waited, hoping he would continue. He will help us. He will face the magi, she thought.
“If they agree to leave, let them. If he takes the spear out of your uncle’s back, take the shot”, Mark said. “If anything goes wrong, take the shot, too. Ok?” He looked down at her his eyebrow raised.
Atissa nodded vigorously. “I understand. I will not fail you!”
“Sure.” Mark smiled at her. Somewhat. His gods must really not like his intervention.
“I know you are there. Assan can see you!” The voice of the magi droned through the woods.
Atissa hurried as much as she could, while still making sure to stay undetected. The experience of growing up in these woods guided her steps. She chose a spot flanking the waiting men and their hostage.
There wasn’t a way to get behind them. The house would be in the way whichever angle she approached from. Instead, she selected a vantage point directly to the men’s left. It was far from ideal, but it was her only option. Taking a shaking breath, she watched the spearman. He carried a shield in his left hand. If he didn’t move it, she’d have to aim for his neck. A small target, easy to miss, especially if he moved.
Focusing on her breathing, she waited. You are hunting. You know what to do, she thought. She placed two bronze-tipped arrows in her left hand that was holding the bow’s grip and put the last of her own to the string. Familiar with the weight and balance, it would give her the best chance.
Mark stepped out from behind the trees. He had said he would count to two hundred, to give her enough time.
He had to be really good at counting.
The spearmen noticed him first. Atissa could see him tense. He shuffled slightly to the left to face the approaching stranger.
Good, she thought. He had just exposed more of his side to her.
Her greatest fear was the tip of his spear pointing directly at her uncle’s back. Even at this distance, she was unsure if her arrow would stop him from stabbing Tatros. She had seen fatally wounded animals take off countless times. It took time to die from blood loss.
The spearman looked to the magi, his face an unspoken question. The magi ignored him. He faced Mark with a slow deliberate motion. Every hand’s breadth of him emanated a sense of superiority. This was a man of power. Allied with a god, he had nothing to fear.
Then there was a crack.
Atissa saw it in the magi’s posture. The tension in his shoulders. The surety of being the untouchable predator vanished.
Mark stopped five paces away. For a moment, the two men just stood there, their staffs planted firmly on the ground.
“I heard your shout, but it took me a moment to come over,” Mark said, breaking the silence first. Atissa couldn’t tell if he was nervous. When he had come out, he had given the spearman one or two nervous glances. But looking at the magi now - nothing. He doesn’t have to fear him, he is just afraid for uncle, Atissa thought.
“I am Asreios,” the magi said, his voice booming as if addressing a crowd. “. “Servant of the great god Assan. In service of sar Assanadon who has claimed this valley and all its inhabitants for the great god.”
Atissa was shocked. The Assanaten empire had come to conquer the remote Half-Moon valley, a place far away from the Golden Road. It made no sense.
“I am Mark Douglas,” Mark said. “It is nice to make your acquaintance.” His words were polite, yet Atissa felt that they were somehow insufficient, compared to the grandeur of Asreois’ announcement.
The magi seemed to agree with her. He waited for Mark to continue but when he realized that the short greeting was all Mark intended to say, Atissa could sense his tension grow.
“I have not heard your name, master. But of course, I do recognize that.” He waved his hand in the direction of Mark’s staff. “You are of the circle of Nemki? One of the seven sages?”
Mark frowned. “I would like to talk about this man,” he nodded toward uncle Tatros, without taking his eyes off the man in front of him.
“My men… did you slay them?” the magi asked.
Mark took a moment before he answered, considering his counterpart. “They are dead,” he said. “It was not what I wished for, but they came with weapons in hand.”
The magi nodded. “Are you here to oppose us, then? To defend this valley?”
Atissa held her breath.
“I am just a traveler. I lost the road. These… this man gave me shelter.” Mark paused for a heartbeat. “I would like to take him with me. There is no need for further violence.”
The magi starred at Mark, then down at uncle Tatros. “I was led here by a deviation. A vision of violence and disaster.” His eyes returned to Mark.
Mark’s frown deepened. “Well, that should be easy enough to avoid.”
“It should?”
“We just take our people and walk away in peace.” Mark waved his hand in a circle encompassing their surroundings. “There is no reason this has to blow up.”
The magi stiffened. So did Atissa.
She could barely imagine the power Mark described. The house, the trees, the people. Would he conjure a storm?
The threat was clear. Hand over your prisoner or your vision becomes true. Right here, right now.
The magi had clearly understood as well. Atissa could imagine the question in his mind. Am I predator or prey? His eyes moved from Mark’s face to his staff and back.
It started as a light odor.
Atissa recognized the smell and almost gagged. A heartbeat later the stench of death and decay was everywhere.
The warrior made half a step backward, growing pale just as uncle Tatros started to cough.
Mark held his free hand before his face. “What is that?”
Instinctively, Atissa wanted to turn and run. Her senses were better than most people’s and it took all her willpower to stay in place and focus on the scene in front of her.
The magi was the only one that had not moved at all. He was just standing there, watching Mark with wide eyes.
Then Atissa noticed the air around the tip of his staff simmering. Was this magic?
“I apologize, but whatever this is…maybe we should all move on from here.” Mark’s expression was open. He was smiling politely. “This smell, whatever it is, cannot be healthy.”
He is ignoring it as if he doesn’t care, Atissa thought! The Assanaten magi seemed to be as shocked as she was.
It took him a couple of heartbeats to close his mouth. “You say, you aren’t here to oppose the servants of Assan?” he asked. “You just want this man?”
“Yes. I want to leave this place as soon as possible,” Mark said. “Preferably, without being involved in local politics.”
The magi hesitated for another moment. Then he gave the warrior a signal. “Release him!”
The man complied immediately.
Her uncle’s bonds were cut. With relief, Atissa saw Tatros sitting back and carefully rubbing his wrists.
“We will retreat then,” the magi said. “Farewell honored sage of Nemki.” He bowed to Mark before turning away and quickly retreating in the direction of the village.
Atissa watched them in amazement. She hadn’t heard of these sages before, but it seemed as if Mark was even more amazing than she could have guessed.
