Chapter 69: Complex Dragons
My gaze kept returning to those tentacles, as if they were a mystery to be solved, revealingwhat?
"Dragons are more complex than they appear, aren't they, Boss?"
"I was just contemplating the same thing."
"Especially Drevolan."
"Indeed."
"Did you notice what he didn't ask about?"
"Yes. He never inquired about the stolen weapon."
"You're smarter than they give you credit for, Boss."
"Hold that thought, Opal. Instead, tell me what you think it implies."
"That he already knew about the theft. Which means when we were setting the trap, we weren't doing what we believed we were. Although what we were actually doing, I couldn't speculate."
"Perhaps. Or it could imply something entirely different."
"What else?"
I focused once again on those tentacles, their arbitrary patterns somehow seeming coherent.
"He must have known a specific weapon would be taken, which suggests the theft wasn't merely a test or challenge, but a deliberate act to acquire that specific weapon, which is more valuable than we initially thought. It fits the puzzle. Or it could be Thorne's theory: it didn't matter what was stolen; the objective was simply to provoke Drevolan into starting a war, a conflict he sought. We've likely misunderstood the situation entirely and still continue to. Our best approach is to assume our conclusions are flawed and reevaluate from that point."
Opal paused before saying, "I admire the artist."
"I do too," I replied. "Let's head home."
I left the image of the wounded Dragon behind and exited Nocturne Castle.
* * *
Alyssra Volade once narrated to me a brief history of battle-magic, but I don't recall much of it; it seemed irrelevant then, and I was more engrossed in her conversation than the content. However, I remember fragments. Between her insights and additional knowledge from Drevolan and Thaleia, I can provide a rudimentary synopsis. It's something like this: The earliest useful spells focused on scouting and illusions; potent yet easily neutralized. Subsequently, methods were devised to cause mass destruction, prompting efforts to safeguard one's troops. Defense eventually surpassed offense to the point where a warrior felt safe from direct magical attacks as long as he wasn't heavily laden with metal. During this phase, armor became obsolete, though some continued using wooden armor and shields, and warriors in the House of the Siberyn wore copper or bronze vambraces as symbols of courage or follyI've always found the two indistinguishable.
Several strategies were developed to enable infantry to carry pre-cast offensive spells into combat, and these evolved, becoming stronger and more advanced until a significant battle, the specifics of which I didn't register, when a wizard discovered a way to detonate all the enemy's "flashstones"ushering in a new era of spell and counter-spell warfare, leaving ordinary soldiers wary of engaging with magic.
Offensive spells then became more potent, advanced, and often required the collaboration of several mages to cast tremendous, destructive spells, thereby shifting warfare to a competition of mage skills rather than soldiers and generals. This pinnacle was achieved just before the Regency Break, with a Dragonlord named Edron, a character best left unmentioned.
The Regency Break altered all that, reverting war back to its brutal, chaotic state where soldiers, acting like gentlemen, battled each other. Post-Regency Break, magic has gradually regained its destructive potential. Yet, with magic becoming more powerful, it's rare to find a soldier unable to perform some sort of magic attack, or one who cannot defend against magic. However, the focus needed to cast or resist a spell is concentration not directed at evading the lethal weapon aimed at you. Consequently, magic is mostly a side issue. At least for the time being. Revisit this in twenty, two hundred, or even two thousand years, and you might encounter a different scenario.
Here's another perspective: During the infancy of the Empire, when magic was rudimentary and feeble, its impact on warfare was minimal; now, in the twilight years of the Empire, when magic has evolved to be potent and intricate, it still barely affects warfare.
However, this isn't the case with Terrans, who are defenseless against it.
This was Alyssra's elucidation before I dipped my toes into military service. In the heat of battle, her words seemed more profound yet not entirely accurate; the enemy was relentless in hurling malicious spells at us, sometimes leading to casualties, and a few times, I barely escaped.
I despised that.
It didn't require an in-depth understanding to grasp the implications for an ordinary soldier: It meant that, every so often, one of your allies would collapse, lifeless and convulsing, with no discernible cause; it meant that, more frequently than not, someone would be struck down, either dead or injured, from what appeared as a faint reddish gleam; it meant that, even in the thick of hand-to-hand combat, there was a constant looming threat.
Fortunately, since the enemy was rushing towards us, they couldn't fling javelins at us, and the spells dwindled as the clashes grew. The first few moments after the lines meet is the most grueling part of a battle; to a warrior, it's more intense than the final decisive phase of the battle. The initial moments don't require strategic thinking; the combat gradually decelerates or appears to, until eventually, your fear begins to catch up. As I said, my memory of the initial clash is hazy, but the most vivid recall is the sound of numerous steel swords striking against wooden shields, along with the occasional metallic clash of sword against spearhead. It wasn't that numerous, it just seemed like it. Opal must have made a few witty comments. Sometimes, forgetting is a blessing.
I remember noticing that Aeldor, despite his injuries, was back on his feet, brandishing his weapon fiercely; I briefly saw Speransky, relishing what was probably his only joyous moment, an irony I had grown indifferent to. It's astonishing what you can adapt to given enough motivation, but irony, an old companion of mine, is only good when kept at arm's length.
I wasn't aware of any irony then, but now I can perceive the irony that, despite all my concerns, Thorne's remarks, and Drevolan's suggestions, I would have likely been done with the whole affair when the messenger arrived with my payment the day after my report to Drevolan.
That would have been the case, if only.
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