“Little sister!”
The high pitched squeal was all the warning Yuriko had before a dark-haired missile slammed into her middle, spun around using her as a fulcrum while she staggered at the sudden weight, and then squeezed into a fierce hug.
“Eh?”
The woman was a few inches shorter than Yuriko, had a voluptuous figure, short dark hair and liquid green eyes. She looked familiar of course, but the name was just at the tip of Yuriko’s tongue. Wait…she didn’t have an older sister…
“Oh, you’re back, you’re back! Maru-Maru just missed you!”
“Maru…Maru?” Yuriko blurted out. “Er… Niv?”
“Niamh! Hie, hie! I don’t blame you for not remembering, but we’ll be sisters soon, so…” Niamh grinned up at Yuriko. “Ancestors, you people are so tall,” she murmured.
“Er, sisters?” Yuriko’s mind seemed to have frozen up.
“Right, right!” She whirled towards Commander Perry’s aide, Murrie Dumont. “Where are you taking her?”
“To the south officer’s barracks. Third floor, Suite 5.”
“Huh, that’s right next to ours.” Niamh grinned. “Right-o, I’ll bring her there. I’m sure you’ve other duties.” Murrie bowed and Niamh turned to Desire. “And, huh, who’s this?”
Desire curtsied gracefully. “Songstress of Heartfelt Desire, under oath and bound to Lady Yuriko Mishala Davar.”
“Oh? Oh! A Chaos Lord?” Niamh’s arms tightened around Yuriko. “Well, as long as she doesn’t hurt anyone, I suppose.”
“Niamh…”
“Call me big sis!”
“Er, big sis? Wait, wait, wait! Why?”
“Coz I’ll be your sis-in-law!”
“Eh? Really? You’re Marron’s fiancée?”
At this point, Niamh’s gaze turned shifty. “Sort of? Argh! It’s hard waiting for him to ask, you know? So I asked him, and he grunted, turned red in the face and said yes.”
“You asked Marron to marry you?” Yuriko spluttered. “And he said yes?”
Niamh sighed. “No, he refused. He said he wasn’t quite ready for that but he was fine with having a relationship.” Then she smiled, “But it’ll only be a matter of time!”
“Oh.” Yuriko closed her eyes for a moment then sighed heavily, “That’s nice, I guess.”
“Right, right? Come on!”
And with that, Niamh dragged Yuriko along behind her. Then she started giving Yuriko an impromptu tour of the place.
The Frozen Camp’s keep, the central defensive and administrative building was built next to the eastern wall. Those walls enclosed a space that was about three hundred by three hundred paces square. The gates were to the north and the south. The camp, named the Frozen Camp, had been placed on an artificial hill. East and west were sheer cliff faces ten paces down leading straight into a ditch another five paces deep. North had a gentler slope but had a drawbridge to cross the ditch which was roughly five paces across. The walls were just as thick, and another ten paces higher to boot. The distance from the walls and down to the level ground was about twenty paces.
The surroundings were cleared of the evergreens, giving them roughly a longstride of clear space. Ouera Bo was more than two leagues away but the approach towards the camp followed an old riverbed that had long since dried up. The forest had been pushed back from the camp by about a couple hundred paces or so–nearly five hundred to the north.
There were barracks on the other three sides of the wall and a mustering yard in the middle that also doubled as a training square. The keep had the conference rooms, the offices, and the kitchens, though Niamh said that most of what came out of there was either ration bar porridge or beef jerky. The luxury supplies–kaf, ale and beer–were in short supply. And because of it, morale had started to plummet.
“Bunch of drunkards!” Niamh sniffed. “Just because they couldn’t get a drop of ale for dinner isn’t cause for complaint. Even if it’s dreadfully cold. Speaking of, aren’t you cold in just that?” Niamh wore a militia issued overcoat but she also had a thick woollen scarf around her neck, fur mittens and a cap. Yuriko, in contrast, hadn’t put on another layer of clothing than her usual.
In fact, most of the people in camp either had scarves or woollen cloaks to go with their uniforms.
“I’m fine. After advancing, I’m not as affected by extremes in the weather,” Yuriko admitted.
“Oh, that’s right. I’ve heard that you’ve advanced to Knight! Congratulations! Maru-Maru will be thrilled!”
“Er, thank you.”
Suite 5 in the southern building turned out to be nothing more than a rectangular room, with a separate bedroom and an attached bathroom. That, more than anything else, was probably what made this a suite. There was a common bath area after all. The living room had a small table, two chairs and an earthen couch covered by cushions. Niamh waved at a panel next to the door and triggered the lights and warmth runescript.
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Desire followed Yuriko and Niamh inside, and as she dropped her pack on the couch, the Chaos Lord tapped Yuriko’s shoulder and asked, “Master, I need to feed.”
“Ah, alright.” Yuriko extruded distilled Chaos and Pure Animus on her fingertips which Desire put in her mouth and started suckling.
“Kya!” Niamh’s squeal startled both of them, and Yuriko raised a questioning eyebrow. The older woman, face somewhat red, just waved at her and watched with sparkling eyes.
When Desire was done, she took Yuriko’s pack and removed the contents, placed clothes into the wardrobe located in the small bedroom and cleared the pack of detritus. Desire bowed to Yuriko and Niamh afterwards, then sat down next to the couch on her heels, her hands on her lap, and an attentive expression on her face, quite resembling Yuriko’s attendants, Ryoko and Saki.
Shaking her head, Yuriko and Niamh sat on the couch and continued their conversation. She remembered a bit more about the woman now, and how she often followed behind her brother. Niamh was a Runescribe, an Apprentice level Spellweaver, and wanted to learn Sorcery too. However, she was still a Third Order Journeyman and remembering what Miya said, Knight was the minimum to learn and use true Sorcery.
“Ah, I’ll leave you to freshen up!” Niamh said brightly. “And I’ll have a copy of the Log for your review! Your companions are either in the clinic or the mess hall.” With that, the bubbly woman left Yuriko and Desire’s room.
The Chaos Lord had a slight smile while she stared unnervingly at Yuriko. Shrugging to herself, she headed towards the bathroom, which was really nothing more than a small cubicle with a water closet and shower, to take a much-needed bath. When was the last time she let water sluice down her skin? Back at Coltherstone? Ancestors! That had been more than twenty days ago!
The shower head was just barely higher than Yuriko was tall, but it did let out a stream of steaming hot water. She pulled her Anima beneath her skin, letting go of the runescript weaving that stored her external reserve of Animus. Later, she’d try to prime an Adamant symbol into her Anima, just for emergencies.
There actually wasn’t much dirt on her skin but using the soap and shampoo, not to mention the hot water, was such a pleasure that she couldn’t help but moan in happiness. Too bad there wasn’t a tub to soak in. Half an hour later she stepped back into the living room, hair and skin completely dry. A handy use of her Anima was to dry herself by rejecting excess moisture.
There was a militiaman waiting there though, and his eyes bulged when she came out wearing only a bathrobe.
“What?”
“Ah! Er, I've got a copy of the Logs for you, Knight Davar!”
The man was barely into his twenties, and quite fresh-faced. Once he placed the binder on the table, he snapped a salute and made a hasty exit. Desire was resting on the couch and barely stirred when the man left.
“You let him in?” Yuriko asked.
“Yes, master…”
Shaking her head, and rather thankful that she didn’t walk out there naked, she ducked into the bedroom and changed into a fresh set of clothes. Trousers, a button-down shirt with ruffles along the collar, and loafers.
Once outside, she opened the binder and was faced with sheets of paper with tiny and cramped writing. Sighing to herself, and anticipating the dizziness and nausea to come, she began to read.
Mum had her checked almost as soon as they arrived in Aerule Garden, however, none of the scanning equipment found anything wrong. Her eyes were fine, incredibly good actually. Even without using Enhanced Sight, she could identify small letters from five paces away. The healers who used their Animus techniques on her said that there was nothing wrong that they needed to fix.
In the end, they settled on the quick fix of having Ryoko or Saki read her textbooks out loud while Sadeen tried to find another way to help her manage, but with how Mum was so busy, that had kind of fallen by the wayside. And now, Yuriko would have to suffer through reading again. Ah well.
At least when she studied runescrivening, she didn’t suffer. The more advanced runescript books were actually easier to read than the earlier ones simply because they were books on patterns rather than theory.
As she feared, she developed a headache after ten minutes of going through the binder. She stopped at that point, not wanting to make it worse. She’d gotten the gist of things anyway. The Frozen Camp had dealt with frontal attacks and raids from the barbarians, as well as the occasionally swarmling waves. The last few weeks alone had five such incidents, leaving near a hundred injuries to the troops and killing ten raiders. At least there weren’t any fatalities for the Empire’s warriors.
She could probably expect an attack in the coming days. Most of the injuries were when the militia or legionnaires left the camp to patrol, so she could also expect to be attacked when they head over to the herd.
Rubbing her temples, she glanced at Desire, who was curled up like a kitten on the couch and left the suite quietly. It was late afternoon and the evening was cold enough that her breath visibly steamed even in the heated hallway.
When she wandered out into the inner yard, it was to see several centuries in training. The militia and legionnaires were easy to distinguish from their general air of confidence, notwithstanding their uniform colours. The legions used red coats while the militia had green. The carronade and kite shield insignia of Agminis was prominently displayed on each legionnaire’s sleeve and chest. She didn’t recognise the militia sigils though, but they were probably from the villages and towns near Aegermonth.
The militia trained with spears and bucklers. They did synchronized strikes, spearheads glowing in different hues. Thrust, step back, set, and thrust! Another century was practising with close-in weapons, side-blades for the most part. Their forms were atrocious though and she suddenly itched to march over there and show them how it was done.
The legionnaires practised shooting volleys with their Plasma Casters, set to training shots that were nothing more than harmless light. First rank shot then knelt, second rank shot then knelt, and then the third rank fired over the other two. Same with the fourth. Then, the cycle repeated. The Casters were a different model than the one she normally used and was fitted with jade cartridges. It was shorter too, for ease in manoeuvring but sacrificing range. Funny, there was an additional cartridge attached to the Casters that weren’t made of jade.
A few of the militiamen looked at her and stared, but the legionnaires were quite a bit more disciplined. She walked over to the northern wall and jumped to the top, avoiding the use of the exterior, or interior, stairs. There were battlements at the top, of course, crenellations and murderholes. What she was more interested in was the view, and a little test she wanted to do.
Her Anima flared out to its full length of one hundred thirty si…seven inches now. The drop of Ambrosia she used to feed herself had expanded her Anima. A pity it was only by an inch. The first time she did that it had grown by five. Perhaps it was because every inch farther took up more space than before? Anyway, she picked up a loose pebble, contracted her Anima to apply as much kinesis as she could, coated the pebble in her Animus, and let fly.
The pebble struck the ground more than a longstride away, throwing up a plume of dust as it cratered the dirt and ice. So her range increased if she was higher above the ground. It was good to know. A plasma bolt from a Caster or Lancet didn’t fall to the ground as it flew through the air. Instead, it dissipated once it went far enough. Animus techniques could extend the range, which was how Da hit things from a league away.
But her thrown pebbles fell to the ground quite quickly. It also spoiled her aim a bit, and with the differences in weight, which affected how much force her kinesis could impart, the pebbles fell down at different rates.
That meant she only had an effective range about a tenth or so of her maximum? She couldn’t quite work out the arithmetic and she’d rather try it out than work the solution on a piece of paper. Maybe if she shaped the Empowered Strike’s Animus coating into wings like those she used to glide? Perhaps the pebble would fly level for much farther out.
Anyway, there was barely a need to do so here since the tree line was only a longstride away. If she aimed a bit higher than her target, the course should be corrected. Now, the question was how much training did she need in order to get a good feel for it? Much as she loved training with her swords, there was just something about marksmanship that was quite enticing. Even if it did involve a lot of arithmetic.
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