I walked past a tree etched with some crude alchemy sigils—obviously a trap set by a bunch of teenagers who'd just learned their first formula at school.

  People think magic is breaking the laws of nature—that it's like a cheat code. But not really

  It doesn't break the laws. It adheres to them—so strictly, so cleverly—that it seems only to be bending them, followimg rules that mist did not now existed.

  Some distance ahead, I noticed burn marks on the ground black. Looks like those same kids made a first try that did not go so well.

  To most, a battle magical is some test of will or unadorned savagery. But I have learned to read the patterns—the chain reaction. Push somthing here, something falls there. Any action, any ripple, is part of an overall equation. And so we gave them names, made them instruments— formulas to be controlled, reshaped, and used.

  Every formula has a Gardian. Neraton is the Gardian of F = ma.

  And every Guardian has a scholarly disciple representing each part of their formula.

  A metallic clatter abruptly shook me out of daydreaming. I moved stealthily towards the sound, brushing aside hanging branches, until I saw them—A young woman with raven-black hair, usin what appeared to be a short montante, in a standoff against a robber dual-wielding poorly held rapiers.

  He clearly had never been in a real fight before. His footwork was sloppy, and he flailed like a guy who'd been practicing in front of a mirror—alone.She was, however was calculated and keaping her distance. She tapped his sword off-line in one quick strike, then stepped inside and sliced him across the arm with precision.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  With a cry, he dropped one of the rapiers and turned his back on us, fleeing into the forest with the gash clutched in his hand.

  As I was turning to go, I stepped on a branch.

  Snap.

  The sound echoed a little too loudly. She spun around, sword held high, in a flash, I was staring down the blade of cold steel.

  "Who are you?" she demanded. "And why were you watching me?"

  I raised both hands slowly. "I heard the fight. I just wanted to see if you were okay," I said, keeping my voice calm.

  She glared at me, then, after a moment, slid her sword back into its loosend sheath. "Well, I'm fine," she muttered, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

  That was when I noticed it—a stab wound on her side, below the ribcage. It had missed anything vital, but only just.

  "If you'd like," I suggested, softly, "I've got a med kit. For weary travelers."

  She halted in her step and turned to regard me at last. Her face was white, but her eyes were as sharp as her sword.

  I invited her to have a seat on the log as I set out my gear.

  "Your name is, traveler?"

  She replied with a deathly glare.

  "Antonio it is," I grinned.

  "So, where are you heading? City of Herkabanl? Fine bakery there. Belongs to the shepherd's son who spent all his life at sea. Learned something in China he calls churros. They're delicious, but I don't think they'll last long."

  After somtime she ended the silence, "Capital. I'm headed for the capital."

  My smile fades.

  "Well, if you'r here, that means you're passing through Merlat's territory."

  "The shortest distance between any two points is a straight line," she said undeterred. "I need to request the king's aid to recapture my city—Nesul—alongside my army."

  I blinked your army? Then why on your own—especially through Merlat's territory—if you have an army at your disposal?"

  She glanced down, then up at me. "I had hoped to gathed some soldiers on the way there."

  I stared blankly, awaiting the punchline. It never came.

  "You're kidding me? You will most likely die within the first few steps." I said. She nods her head

  Some time pased and her stiching was done. She bid me fair wel as she headed off. As she walked off somthing came over me. "I'll be your first soldier!" She turend around. "You, a scolar, become my soldier? You dont look like you know anything about battel, but i cant be be nesisaraly picky." She drew her sword and taped my shoulders with the blade, mocking a kniiting "you are now my soldier, sir..?".

  "Isaac"