explained.
That was a safe bet, Diego thought, they probably had parted with society before the Change…or rather their great-great-grand-parents did.
“Every direct use of magic on living tissue is classified as a gen-mod in the Empire,” she said.
The Wildlanders suddenly went silent. Frank tensed each and every muscle in his body, his unease translating into an attempt to look more dangerous. A real animal.
“Do you know what this was called before your Emperor decided otherwise?” Frank asked with clenched jaws.
“Yes,” Thompson said as she looked him in the eye. “A curse.”
Diego let out one of the loudest sighs of his life when the Wildlanders suddenly started jabbering. Gen-mods had been one of the ugliest thing to come up when magic had appeared, or at least it had been perceived as one. Nowadays, it only seemed an ignorant point of view, at least to educated people.
“In our land,” Thompson intervened, “it is heavily regulated. We’re interested in finding out who did this.”
Daya looked at their commanding officer with surprise. Of course, Dispatch didn’t send them to investigate about people experimenting on wild life. The Empire didn’t care much for the bloody creatures that infested the fallen state of Washington. Thompson’s move was smart, though. The better their relations with the locals, the easier their job would be, this time and the next.
“We’ll take care of it ourselves,” Frank replied. “We are interested in what you know. You may eat and rest amongst us, tonight, in exchange for your information.”
“We will trade information for information, and shelter for food,” Thompson countered.
“We don’t need food, we can hunt.”
“We don’t need shelter, we can fight,” she retorted.
Frank chuckled and nodded. “Very well, I guess you’re the hunter of the pack.”
Thompson slowly shook her head. “I’m only the one who will join you. My friends know how to handle themselves.”
The Wildlander pointed at Daya. “I want to see what she can do with a bow.”
“I didn’t say they were archers.”
“If she’s not, we’ll teach her,” he said decisively. If the Sergeant Major didn’t accept, he was most likely to refuse the deal entirely. On the other hand, Daya’s prerogative was to keep them safe. She was the true warrior of the group.
Thompson turned to Daya. “Then, she must be honored to be offered such apprenticeship.”
She quickly nodded. “Of course… Yes!” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
Frank stood up and looked at his people. “Is this done?” he asked. Without a proper chain of command, the question always had to be spoken when a Wildlander had finished conducting his business. How could such a people ever be integrated in the Empire when none of them could speak for his fellow men? No, the savages would forever live where the beasts kept civilization at bay, they reveled in these forsaken places.
Luckily enough, the crowd only asked for their names, confident that they would have time for their more serious interrogations the next day. The hunters who had almost riddled them with arrows now waited patiently for Daya and Thompson, eager to kill something in their company. The shift from murderous intent to hospitality was jarring, and Diego would never truly trust them, but he faked it well enough.
While his commanding officer and his colleague gratefully accepted some bows made out of bone and wood, Diego asked for some water. Of course, he would sanitize the thing with a heavy dose of magic before he ever drank it, but so far into the wilderness, one would have to be mad to pass an opportunity to fill his canteen.
By the time he got back to the fire, only two people sat there: Jack and a Wildlander girl. She had long, perfectly combed, brown hair, the exact same shade as the technician’s. Diego sat across from them, rather curious but not intrusive. The girl had a large smile and a carnivorous look. Tales of the Wildlanders’ prowess in bed populated the inns of the Empire, their appetite too. Diego had always taken the stories with a grain of salt, but since he had entered the team, he’d noticed that the elk wasn’t the horniest beast of the forest.
He grinned at the way Jack faltered in front of her attention. The giant was no more than 23 years old, the youngest of them four, and it showed. Diego doubted that he’d been that innocent when he had half his age, though. Still, the young man would grow and become more assertive, or so he hoped.
“I like your sword,” the Wildlander said, her nails clicking against the metal guard, “it’s…large.” Subtlety only had its place whilst hunting, apparently.
Jack cleared his throat. “I’ve had it for a long time now,” he tried, but she didn’t let him.
“Only a strong man could handle that, or a strong woman...” She leaned in. “Do you think I would be strong enough to take it?”
Diego bit down a laugh at Jack’s expression of utter panic. The boy literally moved away from her, retreating with clenched fists.
The team spent most of its time together, even when they weren’t on a mission. Diego had seen Jack in a bar before, never had he shown any interest in flirting, even though he sometimes got attention from both sexes. No matter how many shots the bartender fed him, under Diego’s tutelage, it had never changed.
The Wildlander got closer, insistent. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. I know you imperials are gentle.” She placed a hand on his leg. Jack closed his eyes.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Diego interrupted with a chuckle. “The man isn’t interested, leave him be.”
She gave him a defiant look. “He doesn’t know what interests him yet, that’s all.” She moved her hand higher on his thigh.
Diego’s mood immediately shifted from amusement to anger. “Déjalo tranquilo!” leave him be, he exclaimed, and Authority marked his words. The Wildlander retreated immediately, bound by the power of his noble command. She stood a few paces away with a sorry look on her face.
Suddenly, a hundred eyes watched, with anger and outrage. Jack finally got out of his shell and grabbed his sword. Diego felt the boy’s magic filling the place with a thousand threads, ready to be intertwined in whatever design the enchanter would need.
The nobleman refused to let his own magic go just yet. Thompson’s plan wasn’t for confrontation, and that’s exactly what he would seek, if he got his most powerful weapon out. Instead, he raised another one: his hands. “Wait!” he yelled, using English as a way to manage his innate ability to impose his will upon others. Diego was about to bow down and issue an honest-looking apology, as he’d been taught as a child, but his instinct stopped him. Savages, they were savages! They weren’t reasonable, nor forgiving. If they felt they had the upper hand, they’d kill them without hesitation.
Jack nodded when their eyes met. Diego veiled. His magic devoured their presence, erased every trace of their very existence. The hunters loosed a few arrows, hoping they’d hit the Imperials before they could vanish, but Jack’s enchantment split the wood into chips.
Even with his immense power, Diego felt the energy draining out of him. A proper veil was a consuming charm to maintain, more so than invisibility, for it masked their presence to every sense and magic alike.
Unable to communicate with his partner, although he was the one keeping him from the world, Diego started to ponder what their best course of action could be. Should they leave and reconvene with Thompson and Daya? No. The Sergeant Major wanted to maintain good relations with the locals. These were hunters, fleeing was the worst they could do. One does not run from the wolves.
They had to intimidate them, and that wasn’t going to happen if they only hid. Diego unveiled partially in order to advise Jack using the little enchanted pearl that hang around his neck. The Wildlanders immediately turned towards him, able to sense his magic. “Ward up!” Diego quickly sent before he disappeared again.
The nobleman relocated near a tree, outside the camp. He felt Jack and his magic move under his veil, like a couple beneath th
e sheets. Eventually, it settled, warm and peaceful.
When Jack reappeared to the Wildlanders’ eyes, he had his great sword firmly in hands. The technician surely wasn’t the best warrior Diego had ever met, but he was one of the best enchanters. Even the savages knew not to trust his clumsy stance and his rigid arms. They had good enough instincts to see he was dangerous.
That didn’t keep them from at least trying. A javelin flew towards Jack, but much like the arrows, it disintegrated mid-flight. An old man unveiled himself behind Jack as he struck him with his lance, but the sharpened spear-head failed to rupture the enchanted leather armor. The hunter retreated in time to avoid a wild swing of the gigantic blade, and his peers came to help.
Diego threw his magic at them, weaving ties to slow them down rather than paralyze them, so that he could affect a larger number of them. The Wildlanders backed off before Jack could crack any of their skulls, revealing their cautious nature.
Everything soon came to a standstill, with Jack surrounded by half a hundred spears and bows unable to make their way through his defenses. The tension thickened the air more than magic did. They waited, ready to strike again and try to take down the beast that had wandered in their settlement, no matter the cost.
Diego remembered what had happened and ran to join Jack before he unveiled himself. The nobleman held up his hand. Strangely, it was the party with the upper hand that had