The Storm and The Stitch

The Storm and the Stitch

Location: The Southern Training Fields (Currently a cratered, electrified mud-pit).

Time: The Golden Era.

Subject: Unit Evaluation / Fashion Upgrade.

The air smelled of ozone, burnt grass, and wet dog.

Xara stood in the center of the muddy field, her obsidian armor humming with absorbed energy. Across from her stood the 4th Cohort, the "Ravenguard," looking less like a military unit and more like a collection of terrified lightning rods.

"Again!" Xara laughed, dodging a bolt of lightning that vaporized the rock she had been standing on a second ago.

Leading the charge was Centurion Vulneir. He was a man who looked like he had stuck a fork in a socket and enjoyed it. His hair was standing straight up, his eyes were wide and manic, and he was screaming something that sounded suspiciously like a challenge to the gods.

"Eat voltage, General!" Vulneir shrieked, hurling a jagged spear of white-hot electricity.

"Better!" Xara roared, catching the lightning in her gauntleted hand and crushing it into sparks. "But you're aiming with your eyes! Aim with your hate!"

Suddenly, a massive shape barreled past Xara.

Fluffy the Chimera was having the best day of his life.

The Lion Head was roaring at the thunder. The Snake Head was darting out to snap at the stray sparks flying through the air. And the Goat Head...

The Goat Head had cornered a junior mage and was currently chewing on the end of his staff.

"My staff!" the mage squeaked. "It's mahogany!"

"Let him have it!" Vulneir shouted, not looking back. "It builds character! Focus fire on the General!"

"I like him," Xara grinned, side-stepping another blast. "He's loud. He's reckless. He reminds me of me."

‘...HE IS UNSTABLE. HIS OUTPUT IS ERRATIC. AND THE GOAT IS EATING GOVERNMENT PROPERTY. Kivuli’s voice rumbled, vibrating the fillings of everyone within a mile radius.

"He's perfect," Xara countered.

She whistled. "Fluffy! flank left!"

Fluffy complied with terrifying enthusiasm. The Lion Head lunged, scattering the mages like bowling pins. Vulneir didn't flinch. He stood his ground, raised both hands, and summoned a cage of lightning around the beast.

It didn't hurt Fluffy; it just made his fur stand up. The Lion Head purred, a sound like a rock crusher, and the Snake Head licked Vulneir’s face.

"Cease fire!" Xara bellowed.

The lightning died down. Silence returned to the field, save for the crackle of static and the Goat Head crunching on the mahogany staff.

Xara walked up to Vulneir. The Centurion was panting, his robes smoking, but he was grinning like a maniac.

"You didn't run," Xara noted, looking him up and down.

"Running is for people who can't throw lightning, General," Vulneir wheezed.

Xara slapped him on the shoulder hard enough to dislocate a normal man's arm. Vulneir just swayed.

"Good," Xara said. "You're crazy. I need crazy."

"Excuse me?"

A polite voice drifted from the sidelines. Torian was standing there, holding a wicker basket and looking entirely out of place on the scorched battlefield.

"I brought snacks," Torian smiled. "And... gifts."

"Weaver!" Xara beamed, wiping soot from her face. "Did you see? Vulneir almost singed my eyebrows."

"I saw," Torian nodded, stepping over a puddle of molten glass. "Very impressive. Lysander is going to have a stroke when he sees the landscaping bill, but impressive nonetheless."

He walked up to Vulneir. The electric mage looked at the unassuming man in the wool tunic, then at the basket.

"Centurion," Torian said. "The General tells me you're the elite. The 'Storm Breakers.'"

"We are," Vulneir said, straightening up and trying to look dignified despite the Snake Head still sniffing his ear.

"Well, elite units need elite branding," Torian said.

He reached into the basket and pulled out a stack of fabric patches.

They were masterpieces of embroidery. On a field of black velvet, a silver raven clutched a jagged lightning bolt. But surrounding the chaotic image was a perfectly stitched, mathematically precise golden circle.

"A raven," Vulneir whispered, touching the thread. "For the message we bring."

"And lightning," Xara added, poking the patch. "Because you're flashy."

"And a geometric circle," Torian finished, winking at Xara. "To keep Lysander from having a panic attack about the asymmetry."

"It's... it's beautiful," Vulneir said. He looked at his mages. "Raven-Guard! Attention!"

The mages scrambled to attention. Even Fluffy sat down, though the Goat Head looked disappointed that the basket didn't contain more wood.

"Wear them with pride," Torian said, handing them out. "I used a double-lock stitch, so they won't unravel when you... explode things."

Vulneir pinned the insignia to his charred chest. He looked at Xara.

"We will burn the sky for you, General," Vulneir promised.

"Just the enemies, Vulneir," Xara corrected. "And try not to hit the dog."

‘...THE INSIGNIA IS ACCEPTABLE. THE CIRCLE IMPOSES ORDER ON THE CHAOS. THE WEAVER HAS STYLE.’ Kivuli chimed in.

"Does Fluffy get one?" Xara asked, looking at the Chimera.

"I made him a collar," Torian admitted, pulling out a massive leather strap with the same emblem. "But I'm afraid the Goat will just eat it."

"He absolutely will," Xara agreed. "Come on, Fluffy. Let's go find Lysander. I want to see if he notices the smell of ozone on my hair."

As they walked away, Vulneir stood stroking the raven on his chest, while his squad argued over who had to explain the eaten staff to the Quartermaster.

"Storm Breakers," Vulneir whispered, smiling as a spark jumped from his finger to the Raven's eye. "I like it."

‘