72 You're Invited

Through the forest marched a little over fifty people. Each step resulted in loud clangs echoing in the quiet forest. They did not move high in the trees but marched down on the dirt. When half of these soldiers, more specifically the ones with heavily worn weapons and near-broken armor, heard something, they jumped. The other half merely got into a stance and readied themselves. Frey, seeing this, wanted to dive into the earth and never be seen again.

"It's funny isn't it?" Marcus asked as he walked next to the embarrassed teen.

"What's funny?" Frey asked as he resisted the urge to discipline his troops, not paying enough attention to the question.

"Commoners, they are always the group that gets the worst hand in life." Marcus gestured to the squad, who hid their blushed faces behind their hands. "They are people who only know their farm, their simple family, and like it that way."

"I don't get why that's so funny," Frey said, thinking about how Gwen might be doing. "And commoners aren't always happy to just be on the farm, not that they're much happier out here either."

"I get what you mean." Marcus moved closer to Frey as he talked. "They are just people who are just there; they aren't the main characters. They live and they die as just normal folk. They do not know the complication of nobles' politics or who rules them and why. Look at them now. They are fighting a war that most of them don't know the origin of. They just know they want to go back home. Nobles have pulled them out of their houses because they see commoners as nothing more than numbers, as resources. Isn't it funny?"

"That's not very funny to me." Frey mumbled as he backed away a little.

"No, it's not." Marcus sighed and shook his head. "It's just ironic that they fight for something they know nothing about. I can promise you that most of your squad don't know why this war started. It's the same for the enemy's troops. They are just commoners just like us."

"And why are you telling me about all of this?" Frey would have rolled his eyes, but he had the captain at least some respect and hear him out.

"I'm telling you all of this," Marcus pulled Frey close. "Because surely you can realize how stupid this is. Nobles play with us like we're their toys. I know you're not a normal commoner. I know you're the guard of the Virility household. Your goal here, along with Doevm's, is to become a captain and go to the academy, much like my friend Jameson wanted to when he was young."

"You knew Jameson?" Frey tried to back away from the arm, but it held tight around his shoulders.

Marcus clicked his tongue. "I thought I had lost him after that, until I saw him fighting in a tournament in our country's capital, Draken. He moved in ways I never thought possible. As I watched this spectacle, I looked around at the audience. They were all nobles." He wore a scowl even greater than Frey's. "He had grown up, trained, lived his life for battle, all to put a smile on a noble's face, not to defend the village and not to defend commoners. He was unrecognizable. He was just a noble's dog."

"But I like Jameson." Frey countered. "He taught me everything I know. He defends the lord's territory and the people in Petal Town. Isn't that defending everyone?"

"Is it?" Marcus snapped. "Or is that the noble defending his own land and people? Nobles don't want to lose their precious numbers. What about territories outside of their control, who will save them? Jameson and I, our home was one such village. One day, as we were returning from a training session, we found it burned to the ground."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Frey said, loosening his glare a little. "But really, what are you getting at?"

"Don't you see the similarities?" Marcus spoke faster as if it was a matter of life and death. "You and Doevm are both striving for the same goal, the academy, all so you can slave away for a noble. You two deserve much better than that. Between the two of you, I bet you'll be more appreciative of my words. Doevm seems to be a little untrustworthy don't you think?"

"He's my friend." A gut feeling told Frey to back away from the man.

"Oh sure," Marcus gave a weary smile. "Jameson was mine as well until he changed sides. You mean to tell me that you've never been suspicious of Doevm? He's never done anything that seemed unnatural?" Frey wanted to refute those words and defend his friend, but they struck something in him, that Doevm was hiding something and had admitted it. Still, that didn't mean Doevm was bad, or that Jameson was bad.

"You look like you have something to live for outside of the control of those nobles." Marcus passed Frey a card. "I know you can't read, so I'll say it: It's an invitation to the resistance. When you get to Draken city, ask around for the resistance and someone will come. You'll be able to tell its legitimate by the mark of a broken lock on his shoulder. I am but a messenger, nothing special to the organization. When you decide you want to be a part of something greater, go meet them."

Frey looked at the card which he could not read. It would seem disrespectful if he turned the captain down, so he put it in his pocket. Not a moment later, screams rang out. Looking forward, he stopped the enemy. His spear and legs got into position without a second thought. His target was already spotted: a tank of a man with a metal rectangular shield in one hand and a simple sword in the other. As the man behind it charged, Frey ran to meet him.

The sounds of battle faded away as the shield came. To Frey, it was like a mountain was rushing towards him. As their distance closed, the shield went from the size of a barrel to a door. His spear was meant to penetrate, but after stabbing, its tip only managed to scrape past. The shield bashed Frey away, nearly breaking his bones if not for blocking with his life essence and a well-timed jump.

He got back up and ready to fight, but the man continued his charge at Marcus, who was engaged with a different oppoment. Knowing Marcus couldn't take both of them at the same time, Frey picked up a rock and managed to hit the man with the shield's head, who promptly fell into the mud. After getting up and wiping himself off, the man glared at Frey. "Come on kid." The man growled. "I need to teach you a lesson." The man's red life essence appeared. Frey called upon his own.

The man didn't change his tactics, charging once again. The shield went from the size of a barrel to a door again. Frey managed to dodge this time, but then the man's sword popped out and cut deep into his arm. After backing away, they exchanged a few more rounds. Each time, Frey was either bashed with the shield or cut with the sword. The spear in his hands couldn't penetrate the shield nor was it faster than the sword.

Cut up and ragged, he knew he could only stay conscious for one or two more charges. 'Think,' he told himself. 'Not what would Doevm do, what would I do? How am I going to change my attack? My spear is useless. I need a different weapon, but I don't have any. All I have is my fist, but how is that effective against a shield?'

He glanced over to everyone else, who were having a rough time as it was. If he lost, his opponent would engage and kill the captain. 'I can't use my surroundings. He's stronger than me…wait a minute. Doevm's always been up against me. He's weaker but he can counter me. How is that? He doesn't engage directly. He redirects my strength.'

By now the shield was already closing in. He condensed all his life essence into arm, drove half of his spear into the ground, and backed away by a few paces. Since the man couldn't see over his shield, he didn't notice the obvious trap. The bottom part of the shield tripped, flinging the man to the ground.

Before he could get up, the man's face was stomped into the dirt. His sword was ripped from his hands and stabbed through his back. Frey picked the tower shield up and did a quick examination of it and his state.

'I never stopped to ask myself if the spear was good for me. No wonder Doevm has multiple weapons. He realized that the spear has its own weaknesses. If not for the soft dirt, my spear would have been next to useless. I should learn how to use another weapon, and this shield is looking like a pretty good choice.'

He put the shield around his back. No matter how much he wanted to try it out, he didn't know how. He thought back to Thomas, who had used a move he didn't master on Doevm and had gotten beat up because of that. 'I'll have to ask for training later.' He thought as he pulled his spear out of the ground and got ready to fight again, however there was no one to fight. The battle was over. Marcus had pulled the troops together and annihilated the enemy while he had been thinking.

"Took you long enough," Marcus laughed which turned into a fit of coughing. "Good job taking one of the two squad leaders on. That would have been tough to deal with if you failed." He, along with everyone else was exhausted. They took a quick count of casualties: eighteen injuries but only one death. After taking a quick break for rations and water, they pressed on.

Frey quickly learned that the tower shield, while massive when approaching, felt smaller when holding it, a lot smaller. He took it off his back and, to his surprise, it had shrunk to the size of a circular shield. "Nice find." Marcus pat Frey on the shoulder and pointed to the rune on its back. "It is a resizing shield. You can manipulate its shape to any shield; however its weight won't change. I'm not an expert in enchanted gear but I used to have a shield like this one. It's not expensive, but it's not cheap either."

Frey played with it as he walked, willing it to expand and shrink. The tower shield was its biggest form and the round circular shield, which could barely cover his chest, was its smallest form. It almost felt like a second limb however as he expanded and contracted it, he felt his strength get sapped.

He was just about to put it away when a fire ball struck it and he flew back. While the shield had taken most of the blow, some of the flames circled around it, charring his flesh. He screamed and rolled around. It felt he was getting skinned alive and drowned at the same time. Each breath brought the smell of burning hair into his nose and burned part of his lings. When the burning stopped and he got up, he saw five robed figures far down the path. Magic circles appeared around them, each with a new fireball.

No amount of adrenaline could suppress the pain. Steam rose off him like his life essence. He expanded his shield to its tower state. Marcus had told them already that mages were too much for them. Imaging his state if he got hit head-on, he leaned on his shield to stand.

"Mages!" Marcus yelled. "Get into position?" He stopped as the mages turned around and retreated. The men weren't any better in their reactions. They still had their weapons and were ready to die, however their opponents fled after just a single fireball. "Everyone retreat!" Marcus yelled, a little unsure of what to do. "I don't know what's happening, but I don't need unnecessary losses." Then he muttered under his breath: "Something must have happened in the center lane."

The squads, despite the enemy disappearing, sprinted back to base. Frey had to be carried using his new shield as a stretcher. Each step threatened to pull his skin off like a piece of clothing. He struggled to breath.