Fallout:Blood and the Bull

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Any opinion and comments are welcome

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The next day was uneventful for me. As I reviewed the reports delivered by my centurion frumentarii, I realized how deeply my spy network was embedding itself into the life of the capital. We had established an efficient system of both active and dormant agents infiltrating all levels of society. Merchants, servants, clerics, and soldiers contributed fragments of information that, when pieced together, created a comprehensive view of the city's political web.

It was a network that constantly grew, a silent weapon few knew existed.

By midday, the emperor's promise arrived—a mage sent to train my magically gifted slaves. However, her appearance was not that of someone honored to serve but of someone crushed by circumstances. I watched as she stepped down from the cart that brought her, her shoulders slumped and her eyes red, as if she had barely slept.

As the centurions escorted her toward me, I caught her trembling voice.

"A mistake… I made just one mistake… and now I must humiliate myself with slaves," she sobbed, her words accompanied by a faint tremor in her body.

My men firmly led her to the small hall where I was waiting. There, in a modestly appointed space reflecting my preference for practicality over opulence, I had arranged an elevated seat—a modest throne, sufficient to remind others of my position.

When the mage was brought before me, the centurions forced her to kneel with a sharp blow to the back of her knee. The sound of the impact echoed through the room, along with a soft gasp that escaped her lips. I kept my gaze fixed on her as she tried to compose herself, her shoulders still hunched and her eyes cast downward.

"A mistake," I repeated, recalling her earlier words. My tone was low but clear enough to fill the space between us. "That's what you said, isn't it? Just a mistake."

She didn't answer immediately but eventually lifted her head just enough to meet my eyes. There was something in her gaze—wounded pride, restrained anger, and a spark of defiance that hadn't been completely extinguished. Her lips curled slightly into a bitter expression before she spoke.

"Yes, a mistake," she said, her voice tense. "A cardinal wanted me to use my magic to punish a man who didn't deserve it. I refused. And this… this is the price I must pay for having principles."

I tilted my head slightly, observing her in silence for a moment before speaking again.

"Your name?" I asked, my tone calm but firm.

"Alyssia," she replied, with a mixture of defiance and resignation in her voice.

"Alyssia, you now serve the mighty Caesar," I said, letting my words resonate in the room. "Take pride in it. Now tell me, what do you need for your personal research and to train my legionnaires?"

Her eyes flickered, scanning the room as if calculating her next move. Finally, she raised her head and spoke, her tone more measured.

"There's a crystal, very rare and expensive." Her voice grew serious as she continued. "It's called Manacite. It forms only in dungeons with extreme levels of mana concentrated over centuries. These dungeons are among the most dangerous. Their levels are lethal, even for the most seasoned adventurers. That's why few accept such contracts. The crystal is invaluable for stabilizing and amplifying magical power. Without it, any advanced training you attempt will be… limited."

I watched her intently as she finished speaking. It was clear she didn't expect much from me, likely thinking my interest would wane once I understood the difficulties involved in acquiring such a resource.

"You will have it in large quantities," I responded without hesitation.

For a moment, disbelief crossed her face, followed by a brief, almost bitter laugh.

"They all say that the first time," she said with a sad smile. "But few are willing to send men to what is essentially a death sentence."

The room fell silent for a moment until one of my legionnaires stepped forward. A burly man marked by countless battle scars, with a cold gaze and a voice laden with devotion, spoke.

"The will of Caesar is absolute. To die in his service is a privilege," he declared, striking his chest with his fist while slightly bowing his head toward me.

I smiled faintly, tilting my head toward Alyssia.

"I command, and the Legion obeys," I said firmly. "If Manacite is what you need, you will have it. My men do not fail, nor do they retreat. And when you see them accomplish what few dare to attempt, you'll remember why you are here."

Alyssia crossed her arms, evaluating my words carefully. Finally, she raised an eyebrow as if to challenge me.

"I'll have to see it to believe it," she replied, her tone a mix of defiance and reluctant admiration.

"Send a cohort to the dungeon near the capital," I said, holding her gaze. "Anything else you need, or can we move on? There's much to do in the east and little time."

She remained silent, her eyes fixed on me, assessing me with a mix of skepticism and grudging respect. Finally, she gave a slight nod, as if acknowledging that she had no other choice.

"Take care of our new mage," I said, my voice cutting through the room with an authority no one dared question. "I don't want to find myself with a slit throat because she decided that was a better fate than serving the interests of my Legion."

The legionnaires nodded in unison, while Alyssia said nothing. She merely lowered her head in a near-imperceptible bow, though her vigilant eyes betrayed her lingering defiance. She would not easily yield to the idea of serving under my command, but she would soon learn that doubt and resistance had no place under Caesar's will.

Without wasting time, I began preparations to return to Castra Caesarea. The orders were clear and direct: load everything needed and depart before sunset. I wanted to leave this city of intrigues and false smiles behind, avoiding any excuse to prolong my stay in its endless cycle of banquets and empty promises.

Logistics proceeded with precision. My men, trained for efficiency, loaded the wagons with supplies and materials as I oversaw the final details. Alyssia, still adjusting to her new reality, remained silent, watching the legionnaires' every move with suspicion. There was no need to remind her of her place—the presence of the Legion was enough to command respect.

That very evening, as night fell, we left the capital and its intrigues behind. The clatter of our horses' hooves echoed against the cobblestone streets as we marched in formation, a disciplined procession. As we advanced, the city's lights faded into the distance, and the cool countryside air replaced the stifling atmosphere of the capital. The night embraced us, but the Legion pressed forward.

Upon our return to Castra Caesarea, there was no time to rest. I immediately set about implementing the fruits of my palace intrigues. Alyssia, still showing a faint resentment for her new role, was swiftly assigned to train the legionnaires with magical abilities. Her initial task was straightforward: teach them the basics of magic. However, my ambitions extended far beyond the basics.

The next day, I supervised Alyssia's work as she began her duties. During a conversation in my command room, she explained the main fields of magic and how they could be expanded with proper research. Between brief demonstrations and explanations, she gave a candid, and at times mocking, overview.

"Magic is divided into fields," she began, crossing her arms, her tone carrying a hint of disdain. "Take Abjuration, for instance. Defensive magic. Spells to ward off attacks or deflect energies. Nobody studies it anymore because it's slow, tedious, and most of the rituals and runes are lost. Be thankful for that because no one wants to spend years recreating a defensive ward only to have some idiot break it with a catapult stone."

She shifted slightly, as though the topic annoyed her, but continued.

"Divination. The favorite of church maidens. They claim to see the future, but all they do is mumble about fragments of destiny that change every time someone sneezes. It's useless. No one has ever established a consistent system for it because it's based entirely on guesswork."

She took a breath and rolled her eyes. "Illusions. Changing appearances, sounds, images. Great if you want to deceive someone, but who wants to be the mage who changes colors or projects shadows? It has no prestige, no power, and certainly won't earn you the respect of your peers. So, no one takes it seriously."

Her fingers drummed on a nearby table as she turned to look directly at me. "Conjuration. It used to be used for summoning elementals, but that was back when there were treaties detailing how to control them. Now, trying to conjure something is a disaster. You end up bringing in some wild beast that tears your head off before you can give it orders. No one wants to research it because there are no reliable texts left, and most conjurers ended up dead."

She let out a sigh and continued with a trace of boredom. "Enchantment, on the other hand, has some merit. It's one of the more practical branches. You can imbue objects with magical power—swords, armor, artifacts like that wolf pelt you wear. But even that requires patience most mages lack. It's slow, expensive, and tedious."

"And Evocation?" I asked, noticing a spark of something that resembled genuine interest in her eyes.

Alyssia crossed her arms again, her tone shifting from mockery to something more reverent.

"Evocation, Caesar," she began, her voice firm and full of conviction, "is the queen of magical arts. It is pure, direct, and doesn't need embellishment or unnecessary explanations. It's power in its most sublime form, the mastery of mana to physically transform reality. Fireballs, lightning, explosions… there's nothing more beautiful than watching the world yield to a perfectly cast spell."

She paused, as if recalling a memory, then smiled faintly, a gesture laden with pride. "It's the branch that defines true mages. The rest play with illusions or enchantments, but Evokers leave their mark on the world. Every spell, every explosion, is a reminder that magic isn't here to serve—it's here to be admired and feared."

Her voice softened, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "It's a discipline that doesn't hide behind complex rituals or whispers. It's a declaration that the mage is the master, and the world must bow before them. No other field even comes close."

I studied her intently as she spoke. It was clear that Evocation was not just her specialty—it was her pride. The way her words flowed, the emotion in her voice, and the gleam in her eyes as she described it revealed a passion that defined her life. This wasn't just a woman discussing an art; this was a practitioner of her craft speaking of a purpose.

"What about telekinesis?" I asked, leaning slightly toward her. "Could it be used for construction?"

Her expression immediately shifted, contorting into one of barely contained disgust. It was evident the very idea offended her.

"Yes, it could be used," she replied, her tone dripping with disdain, "if you wanted to waste a mage on the work of a peasant. But good luck finding one willing to stoop to such a level, to be a mere laborer for basic tasks."

The coldness in her voice contrasted sharply with the pride she'd shown for Evocation. For her, anything that didn't involve explosions or raw displays of power was a waste of time.

"My legionaries are neither peasants nor laborers," I said calmly, holding her gaze. "They are tools of my will. If they can use telekinesis to move stones, raise walls, or speed up fortification construction, then it's an advantage few could match."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Perhaps, but training a mage in telekinesis—which has little to no use in battle—to build structures is like using a masterfully forged weapon to chop firewood. It's a waste. Magic is meant for greater, more important things."

"Focus on teaching them the basics instead of continuing to complain," I said, my tone unbothered but firm enough to leave no room for argument.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and left the room, leaving her with my magically gifted legionaries. Alyssia was skilled—I knew that—but her attitude would take time to align with the purpose of the Legion. Meanwhile, my focus shifted to the numerous tasks awaiting me in Castra Caesarea.

A week later, while reviewing frumentarii reports on the movements in the free cities and the activities of the eastern nobles, I received the news I had been waiting for.

"Lord Caesar," a messenger announced reverently, bowing slightly before continuing. "The cohort sent to the dungeon has returned. They carry the mineral you ordered."

A smile spread across my face.

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honest reviews would be greatly appreciated

Any opinion and comments are welcome