He could only hope this would end quickly, and the spare comforts of the tower would be returned to him. Making a displeased face, the guard grunted at him, and then turned, leading Aurem through the camp and towards the edge of it. Soldiers were readying for battle even now, guards waiting around the perimeter, to send up a warning cry of the Undari tried to surprise them. It was an Undari tactic to slowly pick away from the edges, while safely tucked in the woods. Aurem could only guess the commanders would order the mages to set the trees on fire. A great deal harder than usual, with the branches and boughs covered in ice and snow. Still, magical fire was hardier than natural, and with Aurem present, it was possible.

He was not the type to brag, or flaunt his skill, tending towards making a more practical approach. But he was well aware of his power, and was not quite humble, either. Honest, was one word to describe him. Though that was the nicer of the few that came to mind right away. “Have our scouts spotted anything yet?” He asked, shifting his gaze back to the man, as they approached the other mages. They would be safely tucked in the center of the army, away from the worst of the fighting. If the front lines fell, they would of course face direct battle. But that was why they had soldiers appointed to protect them.

“No,” the captain said, unable to hide the tension in his voice. “The damned snow thickened just a bit ago, making it impossible to tell where the bastards are.” Aurem felt the steely gaze turn to him, and returned it flatly.

“If it would not drain me completely, I would offer to banish it away,” he said dryly, reading exactly what the man hoped for. The Captain scoffed, and narrowed his eyes.

“Perhaps if the snow were gone, we might not need your help.”

Aurem stared, and then considered, before turning his eyes back to the trees. “I have not met Siira myself, but I have heard the stories. I do not think it wise to risk wasting my power on a little bit of snow.” It was hardly a little bit of snow, but Aurem would not bow to the captain’s pressures. He was a mage, not a slave. Whatever the soldiers, and nobles thought. “It would be an unwise order, and leave me too drained to defend myself.”

A sudden chill crashed through him, though, as the captain wrenched his hood down, and then jerked him. Aurem caught the scent of ale from his breath, as the bastard leaned in close, not bothering to contain the disdainful sneer on his features, as the man growled. “You should not presume to order me around, mage,” the man snarled, his brows pressing together, anger clear.

Aurem narrowed his eyes, fingers flexing slightly, tempted to use a spell to sort the man out. But he decided against it. “It was merely a suggestion, captain. Hardly an order,” he conceded, swallowing hard, as the threat of violence flashed in the man’s eyes. More often than not, his attitude got him into trouble with superiors on the field. He had not been raised as a demure noble mage, though. And even after all of these years, it seemed he hadn’t learned. Punishment wasn’t often given out, but when it was, Aurem supposed he might have deserved it. Some of it. Aurem’s expression blanched at the memory of certain other punishments he’d received.

“Twins damn it,” the captain growled, and then released him. Aurem nearly stumbled back, but grunted, and held his ground. “If you and I survive this, I will make sure your mouth is silent, until you return to the tower.” Aurem shuddered at the gleam in the captain’s eye, but turned his gaze away, trying to push the nausea down at the threat.

“Of course, sir,” he grunted. He had to remember that this was not the tower. Out here, on the field, he was under the jurisdiction of his ‘betters.’ And so long as his magic wasn’t permanently damaged, they would face no repercussions. The same as any soldier, for the most part. But with mages, some things were overlooked. Still, all in all, it was better than starving on the street, and having these things happened to him anyways.

“Good,” the bastard grunted, a sneer coming to his own face, as Aurem’s died out.

Aurem bit down a million retorts, and simply glared at a particular spot in the snow near his feet. He needed to swallow the bitterness, and focus on the matters at hand. The battle would begin in an hour, and the troops would set out to attack the Undari. He couldn’t let bitterness and bastards keep him from his duties. Whatever else, he was staunch in defending his country. Non mages might not readily admit it, but he knew his presence would save lives. And so would every other mage present.

It took Aurem a second to register that hot liquid had splattered on his face, the hood still down. And then another to catch the metallic scent of blood thick in the air. He heard the body collapsing nearby, and stumbled backwards, eyes darting up to see the captain now lying motionless in the snow beside him. A cursed died on his lips, as he saw the arrow protruding from his skull, red blood dyeing and melting the snow beneath him. The wind howled around Aurem, and then the silent night awoke with the sound of screams, and battle.