Chapter 241: Six – LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS!

RavensDagger

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Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Six - LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS!

The sun was bright and it was only technically cloudy because a few big puffball clouds were decorating the skies. The air was nice and warm, but moving along at a brisk pace, so that no matter what, it was always perfectly comfy.

It was, in short, the perfect weather for being outside.

I was standing next to Amaryllis and Awen, the three of us wearing clothes that we didn’t care much about, just in case they got torn up or sweaty. In fact, I was wearing pants for the first time since coming to Dirt!

Across from us, Bastion was standing at ease, a wooden pole held loosely by his side. “Alright, maggots!” he shouted, voice mean and growly. “Today I’m going to do my best to turn you sorry wastes of air into proper soldiers! If I do my job right, by the end of this afternoon, you will know which end of the sword to stick into your opponents--That’s if I can unscrew all the stupid from your thick plebian skulls!”

I blinked, then raised a hand. “Um, Bastion... why are you being mean?”

The sylph stared at me. “You wanted training?”

“Well, yes, but I didn’t think that would mean you would be screaming rude things at us. I wanted training on how to fight, not on how to hold back from crying.”

“Uh, well, that’s how my drill sergeants spoke,” he said.

Amaryllis crossed her arms. “We’re hardly privates in the Sylphfree army. We are explorers who want to live a little longer.”

Bastion cleared his throat. “Right, forgive me. In that case, I... suppose I can skip a few steps.”

“Wait, there were multiple steps that involved screaming?” I asked.

“Well, technically most of them. Usually you’d want to break a new soldier’s bad habits, then rebuild them up. It’s also good for team cohesion to work against a drill sergeant. At least, that’s the conventional knowledge.”

“But you’re a friend,” I said.

Bastion closed his eyes. “You... would be difficult to train, I think. Actually, you would be a nightmare to train. But, most of that is about functioning as a single unit, which this crew is surprisingly good at, despite the lack of training. I suppose we can do some drills to reinforce that, and perhaps a bit of one-on-one sparring, to sharpen what’s already there.”

“That would be great!” I said.

Bastion nodded. “Right, let’s start with the basics, the things that most will learn before learning how to spar.” He raised a hand, and with a snap of his fingers, formed a small, glowing ball over his palm.

“Oh, magic!” I cheered. “I didn’t know you knew magic.”

“I know a bit,” Bastion said. “It’s somewhat more advanced, but most well-trained soldiers will know at least a few spells. These are called the big seven, and you won’t find a single soldier that can’t cast them all. Not necessarily well, or quickly, but they should be able to cast them all.”

“Oh, that’s probably more spells than I know, total.”

Bastion made a so-so gesture. “I’ve seen you use two dozen cleaning magic spells. Cleaning balls, tracking projectiles, bolts, beams, and widely dispersed magic. Your fireballs have some versatility. Though, yes, you are correct that you’re not a magic-focused combatant, or a proper combatant at all, for that matter. That’s not a bad thing. Also, warriors tend to be stronger when they focus on stamina abilities. They drain slower and can last significantly longer in a prolonged battle.”

Amaryllis nodded. “Mages, like myself, are very much about the alpha-strike. Hitting very hard in a single moment. That’s why I picked up a more versatile second class. Awen here has a strange magical class that’s a bit more of a middle-ground.”

“Neat!” I said. “So, the big seven, what are they? Should we all learn them too?”

Bastion hummed. “You should consider it. The first four are logistical spells. Soften Earth allows soldiers to dig trenches and encampments faster. Firestart allows you to start a fire, or heat up a pot if you can’t do that. Draw Water allows a soldier to resupply their water in the field. And the last is Clean Wounds, which is a difficult spell to master. Mostly, we’re happy when a soldier can keep a wound clean of infections until they can find a healer or field medic.”

I nodded. “Cool!”

“The other three are Magic Missile, Greater Fireball and Spar Ball. With Magic Missile, we never really cared about the aspect. Just a straight ball of fast-moving magic. A single soldier’s Magic Missile won’t do much, but a platoon of concentrated fire before a charge can soften a target up. Greater Fireball is technically an artillery spell; it’s slow to cast, mana-intensive, and unstable in the hands of someone without the right skills. Soldiers are taught to cast it mostly to use against fortified positions, and to keep using up mana.”

“Keep using mana?” I repeated.

“Mana is a resource. A soldier fighting without using any of their mana is one who isn’t contributing everything to the battle. Greater Fireballs also keep enemy mages busy when they’re coming from seemingly random directions.”

“Uh, that’s kinda of scary,” I said.

“War isn’t pleasant,” Bastion agreed. “The last of the big seven is a spell called Spar Ball. It’s actually quite easy to cast, and it’s the spell I want you all to know before we start sparring for real.” He closed his first and punched forward in my direction.

My eyes went wide and my ears went ramrod straight as a ball of magic zipped forwards and crashed into my face, sending... a slight breeze across my cheeks and nose.

“That’s Spar Ball, the least offensive spell. It actively does nothing, uses nearly no mana, and would be a waste of time were it not so easy to shape and use. It’s mostly used, as the name suggests, in spars as a substitute for Magic Missile or other offensive spells.”

“Oh, neat!” I said.

A few minutes later, I was finding things far less neat as I struggled to make a Spar Ball of my own. I sat on the deck, legs folded under me in a way I wouldn’t dare do in a skirt, and Amaryllis sat across from me, creating dozens of little magic balls that zipped around her with contemptuous ease.

“Your problem is wiping the aspect from your magic,” Amaryllis explained while casually flicking Spar Balls into the sky. “You’re too attuned to Cleaning aspect. It’s limiting you a lot.”

“That’s not cool,” I said. “I can do fireballs just fine.”

“Fire isn’t far from Cleaning. Not too far, at least. You could probably manage Water and Holy aspects too, I’d guess. But the more you stray, the harder it’ll be for you. Most people’s natural attunement is really light.”

“Light?”

“No, light as in... little,” Amaryllis said. “The main theory is that the common mage’s natural mana aspect is nearly entirely random. Or maybe it isn’t and it’s merely difficult to pinpoint its origins. Mine was Wind, I believe, or something close to that, seeing as how there are hundreds of aspects; they tend to get lumped together.”

“Lumped together, how?” I asked. I was managing to make Spar Balls—the spell wasn’t too complex—I was just having a hard time with it. Amaryllis’ lesson was a nice distraction though; I could listen to it with two ears while the others focused on the magic I was casting.

“Well, someone might have Water aspect magic. But that’s not terribly precise, is it? What state is the aspect in? Water can be boiled, and Steam is an aspect. As is Ice, which is just frozen water. But Ice aspect often encompasses other liquids. In reality, it’s more likely that someone has an aspect that matches with a very specific state of something. It’s complex. Then the degree of attunement between people can be wildly different. It’s the topic of a lot of very inconclusive research. And I realize that I’ve gone on a tangent.”

“It’s still cool to know,” I said.

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“It was definitely one of the more interesting subjects I studied. The point is that most people who become mages will become one with a type of magic they aren’t naturally attuned to. Their natural alignment will eventually shift to that of the mana they use daily.”

“Oh,” I said. “But you feel very... sparky?”

One of her eyebrows rose. “I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment,” she said. “But yes, I’ve become better at it. I do have plenty of experience casting spells though, and a proper formal education in spellcraft.”

I nodded, then smiled as I got one of the Spar Balls to circle around my hand, the little thing not very impressive looking, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Magic was still really neat. Probably my favourite thing about Dirt, after all the friends I’d made.

“Looks like you have the hang of it,” Bastion said. He glanced at the sun, then nodded. “Alright, let’s do a bit of sparring. Wooden weapons only. The goal will be for you three to learn how to take a fall and coordinate your attacks a little better.”

“So we’re going to come up with combo attacks?” I asked. “Oh! And attack names?”

“No, you’re going to try to fight me, all three of you. Only Spar-type spells,” Bastion said.

“Us three against you?” Amaryllis asked. “How weak do you think we are?”

“I don’t think you’re weak at all,” Bastion said. “Against the average civilian, you would do very well, all three of you. But I have seen you fighting before, and I know what you’re capable of.”

“And yet you still think you can take all three of us?” Amaryllis asked.

Bastion’s grin was small... but very smug.

A few minutes later, I realized it was also well-deserved smugness.

Bastion was fast. Very fast. No matter how we tried to hit him, tackle him, bonk him with wooden sticks and swords, or fling magic at him, the sylph was always dodging by the tiniest margin before rapping us on the shoulders with his wooden sword. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly rude, he’d trip one of us up.

I stumbled forward as Bastion gently pushed my shin back, redirecting my weight to the side.

Planting a foot down, I started to spin around, a Spar Ball forming as quickly as I could get it done in my off hand, where Bastion wouldn’t be able to see it.

Then Bastion hip-checked me and my spell flew off and hit Awen in the face just as she tried to tackle Bastion.

He grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt, then turned her so that her stumbling tackle moved right into the path of the flurry of spells Amaryllis was sending his way.

Then he smacked Awen’s behind with the flat of his sword and she squeaked before crashing into Amaryllis.

“Not bad,” he said. “Alright, up again.”

“Uh, can we have a break?” I asked.

“A break— it’s hardly been more than ten minutes... though... yes, I suppose a small break for water is due,” he said.

I cheered, arms raising above my head and wobbling around like wet spaghetti noodles.

“Alright, line up for squats,” he said.

“Squats?” Amaryllis asked.

“Are you unfamiliar with those?” Bastion asked.

“As a way of taking a break, yes!” the harpy said.

Bastion sighed. “We’ll go slowly; your heart-rate will decrease. And learning to fight while your muscles are burning is important.”

I didn’t bother fighting it, I just got in line next to Awen and started to bend down, then stand up in time with her while Amaryllis grumbled and joined us. “This is undignified,” she muttered.

“So is dying because you didn’t do enough cardio,” Bastion said. He actually joined us, though he had one leg pointing straight ahead, parallel with his arms, and was squatting down on the other. “I think now would be a wonderful time to talk about your small squad tactics. The positions you take, and your roles in any fights you might find yourselves in!”

“Alright!” I cheered.

“If you have energy to cheer, then maybe we can start sparring again?”

“No, I’m not cheering!” I squeaked.

Maybe this was a bit of a mistake.

***

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