The army stretched for over a mile of road ahead and behind Ori, like a winding snake of dusty leather and clanking steel. His boots scuffed loose gravel and flat pieces of shingle as he kept a pace just above a jog. They had been on the march since dusk, and it was now close to dawn. Despite being mostly left to his own devices, the time had passed quickly, simply overwhelmed by the sheer scale of human activity around him.

  Before departing the city of Astor, he’d been shuffled from one assembly to another muster point. Handed off from one squire to another page across varied regiments, officer and non-commissioned officer groups, between a whirlwind of briefings, never quite knowing for certain whether he was in the right place.

  Things had settled during the march as Ori, using Mana Sight, caught glimpses of B and C rankers using magic while Sera talked inside his mind about their shared observations.

  Ori had seen magic heal arrow wounds to the chest that would have otherwise been fatal. He’d seen earth magic clear debris from the road, or firm up muddy stretches of ground. Even now, hundreds of glowing, floating orbs of magic hung several feet above the heads of the army, allowing them to march through the night as if street lamps lit the road.

  Despite the numbers, the pace had been close to a jog. It had been fine at first, but had begun to chafe in spots Ori hadn’t expected. Within the first hour, blisters had formed on his feet, and instead of Sera using her magic to cure them, his Mistress used the ailment as a teaching moment.

  They returned to, and expanded upon, their previous lessons of Mana Sight and manipulation. Sera demonstrated how Mana Sight was independent of his normal field of view and encouraged Ori to broaden his awareness with that sense, for obvious benefit.

  They covered the universal and most common spells for White Mages: Light Orb, Cure Wound, Purify, Lesser Banish, and Lesser Restoration. She explained why Cure Wound was, in this instance, the best spell to heal his blisters. Even though it was an on-contact spell that required mental focus and anatomical knowledge to use correctly, and even though it was far less mana-efficient than Lesser Restoration, it improved the conditioning of skin, muscles, and bones. Restoration spells, by contrast, reverted the target’s health to the target’s natural ideal template, at the temporary cost of lifeforce.

  This difference between progressive, accelerated healing that sped up natural processes, and regressive healing that reverted patients to a previous state at the cost of lifeforce and ultimately lifespan, was a fundamental aspect of white magic. The choice to specialise in one or the other had profound implications for one’s career as a mage. There were other considerations, such as the differences between mortals and Awakened, and how the healing spells Ori had learned could not mend an Awakened’s lifeforce.

  There were also lessons on how range affected spell choice, how lingering mana from spell-wrought wounds interfered with healing, the effects of curses, artefacts, and enchantments, and the differences between races.

  Without the growth of Ori’s mental faculties and physical stamina, there would have been no way he’d have been able to assimilate over ten hours of arcane lectures while jogging and wearing around forty kilograms of armour, weapons, and supplies.

  Reports of contact with the enemy from scouts had filtered through the ranks, and now the group of ten thousand or so men were forming into ranks hundreds wide and dozens deep.

  Ori watched Lady Jasmine’s light display through Mana Sight while Sera provided commentary. As the army formed up, her lights seemed to form lines from which rows of pikemen assembled. Unaligned mana from staves and other artefacts whirled through the air, as if off-gassing from machinery that had been cryogenically cooled before use.

  'What are those symbols? Do they have any meaning?' Ori asked as he watched the light-aspected spell, specifically designed for mana permanence, hang in the air like a ghostly hologram. In some ways, marching and organising at night was something that, to Ori’s understanding, likely rarely happened in the medieval wars of Earth’s history, for obvious reasons.

  'Those sigils refer to regiments, I’m assuming they’re to help them assemble. Though I can’t be certain, as I haven’t been in a war or a battle on this scale. In many ways, this is all new to me too.'

  'Never been in a battle? What about a fight?'

  'Well, I have been called out before.'

  'Called out?' Ori asked, his tone puzzled.

  'For a duel. It… was a matter of honour.'

  'An honour duel? So when you say called out, you mean someone demanded satisfaction?' Ori laughed. 'Seriously? With magic and stuff, or did you have to use swords? And whose honour were you defending, and please tell me you won. Unless it was to the death, then obviously you wouldn’t be here…'

  'Oh, it was indeed a duel to incapacitation with magic, although participants often die. My particular duels were never to the death. With a bit of skill and unconventional tactics, I managed to prevail, but I fear I was very much in the wrong.' Sera sighed, her voice burdened with resignation. 'I suppose, as your mentor, it’s time that I teach you about what we in the White Chromatics call our shadows.'

  'Shadows?'

  'Every class that leans heavily on the power gained from comprehension of affinities comes with risks. Do you know what an Elemental is?'

  As Ori searched his memories, knowledge courtesy of Freya’s bond came to mind:

  Elementals were the primordial personifications of lesser essences and paracausal energies such as fire, water, earth, air, mana, or aether. Born from these essences, their forms and behaviours mirror their origins. For example, a fire elemental appears as living flame, while an earth elemental may resemble a mound of soil or rock. Their existence embodies the characteristics of their respective elements, with behaviours and appearances reflecting their elemental nature.

  Their sentience is uniquely shaped by the essence they represent. A fire elemental, for instance, might exhibit impulsive behaviours akin to a forest fire, whereas an earth elemental could display a more grounded, resilient disposition. Their intelligence diverges from mortal understanding, with wants and needs differing greatly from the vast majority of sapient creatures…

  'I do now,' Ori confirmed.

  'It can be confusing keeping track of what you know and do not know… I digress. Most elementals emerge from natural concentrations of wild energies, but every so often, a sapient, an Awakened, turns. This happens when, in striving to comprehend their affinities, they wholly embrace their nature. It can become an attractive option for many who have stalled on their advancement, as on the surface, it guarantees a form of immortality.

  'However, this comes at the cost of self. All that drove you, your motivations, your personality, everything incompatible with your affinity is shed, as you become a servant to the very power that once aided you.

  'To avoid this, many classes that benefit from high comprehension of affinities and lesser essences have what is more widely called an Antithesis. White Magi call this their shadow. It is a part of ourselves, in the case of a White Mage, a negative characteristic that comes close to, but not quite being against, the ideals of our order. Our shadows are something private and often hazardous to wellbeing or reputation. It’s something intrinsic to our nature, each of us carefully cultivates, else it will have detrimental effects on our lives, society, and class progression.'

  'Er… okay…' Ori said, taking a moment to process Sera’s revelation. 'I’m not sure I really understand. Could you give me an example of someone’s shadow? I mean, that’s how you got into that duel, isn’t it? You have a dark side, and it got you into trouble. So what is it? Don’t tell me it’s something kinky?' Ori prodded, trying to get a rise out of his mentor.

  'If you must know…' Sera hesitated before continuing.

  'You don’t actually have to tell me. You said these things are private. Just wanted to get an idea, but you really don’t have to—'

  'I have a thing for married men,' Sera said in a rush, then sighed. 'I suppose it’s less about the men themselves, but the fact that I can lure them away from women I came to despise. For the most part, I did it to prop up my self-esteem as a form of petty revenge. There, it’s done.'

  She exhaled, and Ori waited.

  'It is something of a rite of passage for one to bare their shadow to their apprentice, so regardless of my sensibilities and despite your accelerated tuition, I do intend to keep to traditions, or at least the most important ones. Other examples of shadows include destructive, spiteful, malicious, or sadistic tendencies, or an excessive drive for power or control.

  'Our shadows are not inherently evil, but they are aspects that, if left unchecked, could lead to one’s downfall. In our order, acknowledging and controlling one’s shadow is crucial for preventing one’s transformation into an Elemental of Light, Life, Law, or Order, which, from historical records, have caused untold devastation to the civilisations they have emerged from.

  'It’s a delicate balance, nurturing a part of oneself that is contrary to the order’s principles, yet essential for our growth. It isn’t just about self-preservation. It’s about understanding and being honest with yourself, and embracing the full spectrum of your nature, as individuals often are more complex than simply white, black, and shades of grey.'

  'I have so many questions,' Ori thought as he digested Sera’s bombshell confession. While he wanted to pry into the details of her shadow, it wasn’t important right now. 'Do I have to know my shadow now, before I can become a mage, I mean? And tell you what it is?'

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  'No, but you should reflect on it. The reason masters tell their apprentices is it’s a requirement of mentorship and class progression from Journeyman to High, so by the time you come to advance, you should know your shadow and be prepared to bare it to your apprentice.'

  'That’s…'

  'Daunting? Excruciatingly embarrassing? Mortifying? Also, should you tell anyone else about my shadow, I shall haunt you from now until the end of Fate.'

  'Understood. Also, I’m sorry for making fun of it before.'

  'You’re forgiven. Besides, telling a relatively new acquaintance was nothing compared to the mortification my mother likely felt when she revealed her shadow to me,' Sera shuddered.

  Ori chuckled in commiseration as his attention returned to the gathering army around him. An hour passed as they conversed, and the trailing elements of the ten thousand or so infantrymen and supply wagons gathered into a clearing several football pitches in size.

  Dawnlight illuminated the edge of the horizon while smoke from several cookfires rose over the heads of helmed warriors. The standards of various regiments and houses, and the spears and pikes, were carried forward from back to front.

  If it weren’t for Sera, Ori would have felt oddly left out. The men beside him huddled into their groups for banter and camaraderie, and, with Baker flitting in and out of awareness throughout the march, he was left mostly to his own devices.

  Knowing this to be the calm before the storm, he took the opportunity to wander. He saw the same scene of clueless new arrivals left to themselves while more experienced men clustered in groups, likely discussing previous adventures and conquests, though by the sounds of the bawdy tales, not all conquests were on the battlefield.

  Between the knights and mages, a network of squires, pages, and runners, young boys and girls, criss-crossed the field with messages. Knowing what Ori knew about magic, he supposed that communication on this scale was a specialised type of High Magic, either beyond their expertise or used sparingly for some reason. After he forwarded the observation to Sera, she agreed.

  As he moved through the army, Ori caught more sights of magic. Blue and Green Mages tended to horses and mules pulling carts, while enchanters and clerics used mana and affinities in completely different ways.

  Instructed to use Mana Sight as often as possible, Ori caught himself mesmerised by the swirl of mana in the air, the way unaligned mana changed when touched by another’s will, and how spell-forms shaped out of mana became engines for miraculous effects.

  'Ori, I believe this would be the best time to take your apprenticeship practical exam.'

  “Exam?” Ori asked aloud.

  'Yes. Successfully cast these three examples of spellcraft and you’ll become a Journeyman under the traditions of the Chromatic Order of the White, and Fate itself.'

  Ori wandered to a quieter spot beyond the edge of the clearing. Men gathered at the tree line, often to relieve themselves out of sight or to snatch quiet moments as they whittled wood or attended to their gear. He sat on a fallen log with few eyes on him and set down his shield and travel satchel.

  “Ready,” he exhaled, finding himself surprisingly nervous.

  'Now, make a small incision that breaks the skin. An inch long on the palm of your off-hand.'

  Fumbling at his belt for the knife sheath, he drew the blade and sliced his palm open. Blood welled along the cut as he waited for Sera’s next instruction.

  'In a clinical environment, what would be the best way to deal with this wound? And how would it differ if you were in a combat environment?'

  'In a safe environment, with no time or mana pressures, Cure Wound to stop the bleeding, followed by a focused Lesser Restoration, would be the most complete way to deal with a bleeding wound. Cure Wound’s diagnostic ability confirms what is wrong and how to fix it, while Lesser Restoration can remove scar tissue and reduce the bodily resources the patient would expend to heal. In combat, I would probably use Lesser Restoration, as it would conserve mana and require less focus…'

  'Show me your clinical environment treatment using ambient mana.'

  Before reaching out with Mana Sight and manipulation, Ori went through his basic safety checklist. Starting from the inside out, he measured his mental and physical health levels, checking for lingering magic or curses, before checking ambient mana levels, the location of other people, and his clearance for any spells that worked at range.

  Ori then grasped at the mana in the air, turning its unaligned aspect into life- and light-infused energies. These coalesced into Cure Wound, a spell that required focus as it acted like a new set of senses connecting him to the local area of flesh he touched. With a small nudge of will, Ori could reset broken bones, suture and repair torn arteries, and encourage the body to accelerate, even with only the limited mana around him. When that was done, Ori cast a small pulse of Lesser Regeneration. It was the spell he now knew the will within the Greater Channelling Wand of Light had cast on him back inside the armoury of Ghigrerchiax, except that it had been on a much larger scale.

  'Now repeat. Same incision and treatment, but this time channel mana from your source instead.'

  Ori did so, drawing mana from his wand instead. After completing that piece of spellcraft to the best of his abilities, Ori demonstrated his combat healing with Lesser Restoration and his ability to cast Light Orbs with and without permanence, using ambient mana and his source. By the end of the examination, Ori had likely cast Light Orb, Lesser Regeneration, and Cure Wound over a dozen times across an hour.

  “Done,” Ori said with finality, his head dizzy and breath heavy.

  “Who were you talking to?” Lady Jasmine said as she emerged from behind a tree, her expression guarded but curious.

  Ori’s soul all but jumped out of his body. While he had expected casual observers and passers-by, he had hoped to avoid the attention of officers.

  “I… how long were you watching?” Unsure how to reply, Ori answered with a question.

  “Long enough to know what you’ve been up to. I originally intended to spare you your privacy, but became curious after sensing the disturbances in the ambient mana,” She said, her formal manner giving little away of her impressions.

  ‘What should I say, Sera?’ Ori asked internally. ‘Should I say you're a wand spirit?’

  ‘No, that wouldn’t work. Just say that you can’t say.’

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say,” Ori said aloud. Lady Jasmine simply shrugged and folded her arms.

  “Very well, I’ll stand as a witness as you conclude your exam.” She looked around as if trying to find a ghost. “As this is a benign if not beneficial matter, I have no issue keeping things between just us. Given the circumstances, we should conclude things, sharpish. So then, apprentice, continue.”

  'Did you know she’d react this way?' Ori asked internally.

  'I suspected as much. Few would stand in the way of the worthy joining their order. Which, fortunately, means she sees you as worthy,' Sera said, her tone chipper.

  'So, does that mean I’ve passed? Also, she wasn’t one you, er, duelled, was she?'

  'Ori. And no, I actually like Jasmine. Besides, she’s more married to the sword than any man, and would absolutely squash me in a duel.'

  'Oh. Okay then. So what’s next?'

  'Yes, well, this will be a bit awkward with her watching, but I suppose it won’t matter after today. Hold me up as if you’re about to cast a spell at one of the trees.'

  Ori did so and felt mana deep inside the wand accumulate. 'I, as your Master, in confirmation of your abilities, knowledge, and temperament in the best traditions of the Chromatic Order of the White, call on Fate to bequeath you the status of Journeyman, with my unique spell, Death Ward, as blessing and inheritance.'

  Sera completed the spell. Its form settled over Ori’s body. Without his newfound sensitivity to his soul, Ori would have only felt the tingle across his skin and an inner warmth he wasn’t sure was real. With his new awareness, he felt something like a suit of armour form around his soul, anchoring it in place.

  “Interesting. Never suspected she had that spell. Very well. I, Lady Jasmine of House Mc’Alister, High White Magi of the Chromatic Order, as a witness, in confirmation of your abilities, knowledge, and temperament in the best traditions of the Chromatic Order of the White, call on Fate to bequeath you the status of Journeyman, with my unique spell, Purifying Light, as blessing.”

  Ori felt a similar, but far more intense version of the spell she’d used to clean him up after his ordeal at the chapel. Like the spell Sera had cast, Ori felt the knowledge settle into his soul, deeper and more personal than the way memories often came unbidden to his mind from Freya’s knowledge.

  'Now cast the spells to become a Journeyman,' Sera said.

  Ori did so, drawing on the mana of his wand.

  An invisible pulse shot towards the nearest tree, wrapping it in a protective shell of spirit affinity-aligned mana. Shortly after, a cone of dazzling light shot from his wand in the same direction.

  Before he could lower his head, Ori’s soul-awareness caught an influx of something crashing into him before being funnelled away into separate streams. A small measure went to Lady Jasmine as she grunted in suppressed amusement. A larger stream flowed to his wand, pouring through his bond to Sera, while the overwhelming majority disappeared somewhere beyond.

  “Congratulations, mortal Journeyman.” Lady Jasmine smiled and shook her head in wonder and mild consternation. “Come. You’re probably wanted by now. Let’s make our way back to camp.”

  Sera sighed. 'Indeed. Congratulations. Though that much Peritia should have been enough to awaken you many times over. That was a flawless examination at any level of awakening, and to do so without your mana nexus. You have no idea how proud I am of you, and how lucky I feel to have summoned and instructed such a wonderfully diligent apprentice. Well done.'

  “Thank you,” Ori said to both.

  “Specialist Ori of South London?” One of the squires dressed in the colours of Baker’s district of Cudanow snapped Ori from his thoughts as he followed Jasmine back to the main body of the army.

  “Yeah. Yes?”

  “Your presence is requested.”

  “Right. Lead the way.”

  Baker stood atop a mound of earth raised two to three feet above the surroundings. From such a vantage, Ori supposed even he could be spotted in the crowd with keen enough observation. Still, the way Baker casually stood above the troops, chest out, arms resting on his belt, his stance valiant, gave Ori the impression of a man far too accustomed to the environment around him.

  “Specialist, you ready, lad?”

  “Yeah, though it would help if I knew the plan.”

  “The plan is we march. To the enemy, we’ll appear as yet another task force. Our shield-mages will cover us from their bone archers well enough, with Lady Cordelia personally seeing to your protection. This will get us far enough into the host, just before we start to sustain casualties from Eltitus’s corruption. From there, it’ll be down to you. As soon as your aura ignites, you’ll be a beacon to every single horror within ten thousand acres, so it’ll be a mad dash past whatever ghouls and nightmares lie between us and the Lich. Assuming we succeed in keeping you alive, those of us who remain will strike down Eltitus before we’re all fucked.” Baker returned to watching the assembling troops, his voice growing distant. “Another two hundred thousand men remain on Astor’s walls with only three B-rankers between them. So even if every single one of us is turned undead except you, there’ll still be a chance if you can retreat back to Astor. Without your aura, we’d be well and truly fucked, so your life, or shall I say continued participation on this plane of existence, even if all seems lost, is paramount. So no heroics, sit nice and snug in the middle of the formation and concentrate on your aura, understood?”

  “Yes, Baker.”

  “Get some food. Take a piss and a shit now, as come dawn, it’ll be non-stop. You understand, laddie?”

  Ori nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Lieutenant, give our esteemed specialist a tour of the shit pits and the mess, and make sure he’s where he needs to be by dawn.”

  “Yes, Sarge.” She saluted before turning to Ori. “Specialist, with me.”