Ian wandered down the direction Korb pointed and it wasn’t long before he arrived at what must have been the most ruckus area of the camp. A series of large open tents where food was served had been arranged to make a courtyard area with tables and benches. While waiting in line, Ian observed the soldiers. Most of them seemed to be having a rowdy time for themselves, conversing loudly and laughing. He was given a tin tray with a hard biscuit and a scoop of mash with gravy. Ian found a half empty table and sat on its edge by himself. The biscuit was about as he expected and reminded him of biting into a chunk of iron. The mash was slightly better and he spent most of his meal softening his biscuit bit by bit in it.
There was triumphant yell at the other side of the mess. Ian turned just in time to see a raven haired woman slam her opponent’s arm down to the table. A small crowd of soldiers was gathered around them, most of whom were now grimacing and covering their faces in despair. He noticed that though the rest of the soldiers wore simple uniform of blue tunics and pants, she had on a thick navy jacket with yellow trimming. Ian shifted slightly over towards the soldiers sitting at his table and cleared his throat to get their attention. He pointed at the woman and asked, “Excuse me, but who is that?”
They shot Ian strange glances before a freckled lad finally spoke up, “You must be new then? That’s Lieutenant Renata, she’s Aegisgarde.”
He looked back to see her opponent sorrowfully push a small stack of coins towards her as she raised her arms in triumph. “I see.”
“I wouldn’t go out of my way to trouble her if I were you. Those Aegisgarde are tough bastards.” Ian nodded in response. Reasoning that he would have plenty of time to get to know the Aegisgarde in the future he got up and headed back to Mikhail’s tent.
“How was your meal?” asked Mikhail as Ian pulled back the flap to his tent.
“It was fine,” Ian replied.
Mikhail scoffed from his bed. “Nonsense. The food here is terrible.”
Ian smiled and agreed, “It was pretty bad. I saw one of the Aegisgarde at the mess. Renata I think her name was.”
Mikhail began to chuckle. “Been showing up the younger soldiers again has she?” A coughing fit cut him off. Ian poured Mikhail a glass of water from a pitcher by his bed which he took gratefully. “She’s trouble, that one,” he remarked, his tone held a bit of warmth. He took a few sips. “You should begin your study.”
Ian flipped through the pages. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”
“Perhaps you should tell me what you know about the Aeigisgarde already,” Mikhail said.
“Just what everyone else knows. They are the elite cadre of the Alban army.” He picked up Mikhail’s unfinished blade. It was a magnitude larger than any sword Ian had ever seen and he had to put his weight into even hefting it off the workbench. Runes about the size of a palm were etched into the blade, deep enough to be easily seen. They held an almost delicate quality to them. “It’s a wonder how any of them can wield these.”
“That has to do with the runes,” Mikhail explained. “You must understand, they have their own rules. Each rune has to be a certain depth and distance from each other. It all must be just so or it will not carry the effect you desire.”
Urrgh chipping away at it slowly.
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