Olimpia

Excerpt From The Mad Scholar's Wall—

Like always, the hoard rushed forward, clawing their way up the now undefended earthen berm and throwing themselves from its top into the legionaries' ranks.

Although disruptive, one or even ten beastmen could be handled. They would cause a momentary break of a line, perhaps they would flail around, sending out a few slashes before they were brought down by the legionaries, and that's all.

When there were dozens and then hundreds of beastmen falling into the ranks while thousands more pushed on the frontlines, there was no chance of holding.

The lines began to fracture.

Even though the legionaries remained within Unity, they could not gather enough focused strength to reform their units.

As the lines disintegrated, a scrambling retreat started.

They tried to help each other as they raced to the lift-off points at first, but as soon as someone slowed, they were nearly instantly overwhelmed. It became a chaotic free for all.

No, there was no more fighting for the third line, only surviving to fight again within the gauntlet.

The legionaries ran, and when they reached the base of the gauntlet's walls, they finally collected against its base.

There was no other choice. They stood on massive slabs of granite, struggling against the torrent of beastmen.

Legionaries struggled to hold out as more piled onto the platforms. Eventually, the decision was made that it was more costly for the legionaries to maintain their position than they would gain by those still retreating, and the platforms lifted into the air.

**********

I glided through the dark streets slipping from one shadow to the next. It was the easiest way to travel, even if I had to climb up onto the occasional building.

Squads of legionaries were stationed at intersections and marching down streets along with frantic messengers and wagons filled with wounded and supplies rushing down the roads.

It was apparent that most people had seen the giant sphere of fire hovering in the air surrounded by beastkin and were understandably scared. The panic was so thick it was like I could smell it in the air. Not that I needed to smell it, as it pressed on my mind like a boulder.

I was not alone in that fact. Everyone was on edge as the atmosphere pressed on their minds, feeding upon itself and growing ever larger. Causing people to lash out at those around them for the slightest offense or mistake.

Shouts filled the night, and squads of legionaries were stopping individuals in cloaks or those who looked like they were rushing around to search them.

Slipping past everyone so no one would stop me was easier and faster. If someone did stop me slinking along the rooftops and through alleys, it would cause quite a problem, but it hadn't happened yet.

As I made my way through the fort, I dropped into an alley and stepped out onto the bustling street, looking at a packed courtyard.

Ranks of legionaries stood in front of the gates blocking the entrance to the bridge. I could see more centuries marching over the bridge to join their compatriots already lined up in the courtyard.

On my side of the square, I saw a group of seven men gathered together, talking as they gestured in various directions.

Even as I took in the assembled men and women, I felt a prickle against my skin and mind, and the Prime, who had his back to me, partially turned, making eye contact, and waved me over.

Walking across the street and into the moonlight, I took in the gathering cohort. It was the First Cohort. The standards scattered around, and the Eagle of the 15th legion gleaming even in the weak moonlight made that very clear.

The few faces that I could make out under their steel helmets and cheek guards were filled with indignant determination. And in their eyes, there was a boiling rage.

It was a stark contrast from the demoralized fear filling the streets. And the barracks I left my scout trainees in.

By the time we made it across the wall on the makeshift lifts and walked through the northwestern fort to the scout section, there wasn't a single one of my trainees walking by themselves. Everyone was leaning on someone else for support as they appeared to drunkenly stumble forward.

And even when they arrived at the barracks, with this section of the fort basically being mothballed for decades, they were forced to sleep on dust-covered bear stone bunks. Not that anyone complained; they were just happy to have a place to collapse.

I could feel their despair under their mindless obedience to my commands. Their fear.

But the veterans of the 15th's First Cohort had none of those negative emotions filling them. They weren't beaten down by exhaustion, even if I could see more than a few with suspiciously dark stains on their armor.

There was resolve in their eyes, with determination and confidence filling their hearts, which put some steel back in my spine, making me feel a little lighter as I walked.

My footsteps picked up the pace for the last few steps to the Prime, and I snapped off a salute that no one could take issue with before falling into a ready position.

"Prime, reporting a—

"Enough of that, Green. We don't have time for it. What can you tell me about what happened in the Fish Camp?" The Prime said, cutting me off.

Taking a moment, I ordered my thoughts on the events before responding. "A flock of between two to three thousand bird beastkin attacked the Fish Camp at sunset. They used the sun as cover for their approach, and it was only by coincidence I was outside of camp at the training grounds and spotted their approach. The couple minutes of warning I gave allowed the camp enough time not to be completely flat-footed. Can't say exactly what happened within the first hour of the attack, as me and my trainees were trapped in a bunker, but when we came out, there was a massive ball of fire in the air with the beastkin flying around it. The gathered cohorts were able to hold off the fireball when it fell, and the knights discouraged the beastkin from staying afterward. About twenty-five hundred fish survived uninjured…" I trailed off at the end of my report, and the Prime gave me a piercing look.

"You have something more to say. Spit it out."

“…The beastkin had arms, and they only tried to wound the fish."

Scoffs of disbelief and scorn sounded from the surrounding centurions and tribunes. But the Prime's eyes only narrowed slightly as a look of consideration appeared on his face, "Explain."

"When I first saw the birds with arms a few days ago, they were half-formed like a child's arms placed onto an adult. Now they looked… normal. More than that, the beastkin looked… more human. If that is the right way to say it. I don't know. It was like I wasn't looking at an animal with some human features but a human with some animal features. It was just something different about them. And for the wounded, only the Principales, like the centurions and commanders, were stabbed in the chest and neck. The fish mainly had gut and leg wounds and only died due to blood loss."

A moment passed, and someone thumped into the ground behind me. Then a high-pitched voice said, "What good is that information? So the beastkin look a little different, and some fish have a gut wound. Really, is that what you're concerned about, Twiggy? Why don't you scamper off while we have a real conversation."

My back stiffened, and blood began to fill my ears as irritation began to fill me. I would recognize Lukus's voice anywhere. As his clomping footsteps passed me, I felt the slightest shake of the ground.

It wasn't from the weight of his steel-plated armor — though that was nothing to scoff at — but the earth reacting to his presence passing over it and the attributed power radiating off him.

The chest of his armor had a diagonal streak of red with lines of brown and green running through its middle. The lines signified that Lukus was a knight of earth and wind and able to control both like I could a mental strand of force. Or if you are being technical, a knight terra and ventus.

Try as I might, putting an elemental aspect into my power was not something I could overcome through force of will and effort. Like everything in the world, it came down to power, and I was lacking far too much to be able to even dream of becoming a knight.

Doesn't mean I have to like the pricks that seem to fill their ranks, though. I thought to myself as I imagined tripping him.

I might have done it if the Prime wasn't a few feet from me. And I thought I could get away with it. I've done it before, and the chance will come again. I reassured myself.

As I was mentally planning my next revenge on the knight, a soft voice spoke, stopping Lukus in his tracks and my thoughts. "He brings up an important point, Knight, and has the courage to speak his mind to his superiors. Such initiative should not be casually suppressed. Not to mention any report of a scout shouldn't be taken lightly."

Using all my willpower, I kept my face as calm and still as a pond in the early morning.

Lukus stood with his mouth open, one knee bent in a half-finished step. After an awkward moment, he finished his step and shuffled over to stand with the rest of the collective while I stood separately, arms to my sides at attention as I faced the Prime. No one dared to move after the voice spoke, as we could all tell it wasn't done.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a small figure appears. She was a full head shorter than those gathered but held herself with a surety and air of command that could not be denied. "In the span of days, a subspecies of beastkin supposedly grew arms. And the claims of strange powers they supposedly wield can no longer be denied, and more than that, they are showing signs of using strategies. The northeastern fort was attacked by enough wolven beastkin to draw our attention long enough to prevent a reaction to the attack on the fish camp. And now we find out that they are flooding our healers with wounded fish, that, in all honestly, will hardly make a difference in the coming battle. Then exhausting our healers will do far more for the beastkin than slaughtering them all out right."

By now, the gathered leaders of the cohort had formed a semi-circle around the Prefect with me on the far end, a step to the side.

Her cold hard eyes slid over us before sliding over the gathered troops behind us.

"So," She said, continuing her speech, "just because you cannot see the importance of a report does not mean it isn't pertinent information. With everything that has transpired tonight, it is impossible to deny that we are facing a beastwave far more dangerous than in our recorded history. One that can think. And I think there isn't a single better legion than the fifteenth to stop its advance!"

At her last shouted words, and they rang across the square. Causing the men and women of the first cohort to shout, stomp their feet, and slamming their fists to their chests in response.

"Now," Her voice normal again, "Let's get down to business."

Everyone gathered together to talk, and my eyes flicked to Lukus. I could not stop the smallest smile from quirking my lips at his red face. A rebuke by a superior will do that to one with an ego like his.