I wandered through the bloodscape, past soldiers cleaning their weapons, armor, and wounds. I held my nose to mollify Id’s protest of the stench.

  “Anyone have any idea how to help?” I asked.

  “Why should we?” asked Id.

  “To save Human life,” answered Eth, aghast.

  “To ingratiate ourselves to the Polemians,” Al gave a more practical response.

  “So, does anyone have any ideas?” I asked again.

  “Although,” continued Al reasonably, “nurturing the injured is a distinctly feminine role while we would be of better use as a military commander – a distinctly masculine role. If we help the injured now, it might make convincing King Xander to allow for our aid in strategy more difficult.”

  “I thought that Id was the only one who felt nothing for the suffering of others,” Eth said.

  “I was made to be calculating, not feeling,” Al shot back. “But to that point: turning a blind eye to the injured could be taken as us not valuing Polemian life, thus hurting the purpose of this mission.” Her tone became pointed. “Of course, all these uncertainties could be known by you, Eth, if you would but peer into their minds,” she pointed out.

  “I will not,” stated Eth.

  “Then you have no right to – ” Al started but was cut off.

  “It’s no use. I can see the prophesied battle now.” That statement brought our attention back to the material world. It was said by an injured soldier, while another held pressure against a large gash in his inner thigh.

  The other soldier forced a smile, but his eyes held despair. “Now’s not the time for jokes,” he said.

  “I can see him, that’s Maximos alright,” said the injured soldier. Maximos was on the other side of the hill.

  “Don’t say that,” the second soldier said. “You can’t see shit.” There was real desperation in his voice.

  “He is holding the silver sword,” the wounded soldier insisted. “It really is as big as him.”

  The other soldier paused before asking, “What do you want me to tell your wife and kids?”

  “Tell Aretha I wasn’t really mad that the bed cost a lot. I just liked the smaller one because we had to sleep closer together,” the wounded man said weakly. He seemed to see something in the distance. “By Gravity, that’s a lot of Sahalians. How are there so many? There’s so few of us by comparison. Can we win this?”

  “The kids! What do you want to tell your kids?” his friend asked frantically.

  “Tell… tell… why is Maximos so…?” The injured soldier’s head fell to the ground, dead.

  After giving the soldier some time to mourn the death of his friend, I asked, “Could he see the future?”

  “E-excuse me?” asked the grief-stricken soldier.

  “Good one, Ego,” said Eth.

  “I do not answer to you.” stated the grieving soldier with cold fire. “And what are you, a woman, doing on a battlefield?”

  “I’m with a diplomatic envoy from Sofia,” I explained. “Your friend has children, correct? Will you answer my inquiry if I provide them with amulets?”

  “I hope you Sofians have been hoarding the good amulets for yourselves,” he said, the warning note still in his voice, “because protection from the sun won’t help a widow.”

  “I do not believe we have,” I said honestly. “Nomos is a young discipline with much room for improvement. What sort of amulet would you have me make?”

  “Well,” he replied, considering, “… a father’s first duty is to protect his family from harm.”

  “If it was to protect them from being burned this would be simple,” said Eth.

  “What sort of Law would need to be changed to protect against a fist or knife?” asked Al.

  “A knife and a rock could have roughly the same mass, yet a knife will always do more damage,” prompted Id. “There must be a Law that dictates that.”

  “The area over which the force is applied,” I realized.

  I summoned the Nomos scroll and found the new law. It stated that pressure is the ratio of force and area. “It can be done,” I proclaimed as I dismissed the scroll. “How many children did he have?”

  After a moment of looking back and forth between the vanished scroll and me, he answered, “Four.”

  “Splitting five ways,” I considered, letting Al make calculations in my head. “There should be enough blood if we are prudent.”

  “Why is blood necessary?” he asked.

  “Blood is necessary for Nomos.” I said. “But I won’t explain beyond that, for that would divulge its secrets.”

  The soldier nodded. “Very well.”

  We collected the dead soldier’s blood as it poured out of the wound. We then dug up the blood-soaked dirt and put it all through the Nomos scroll. I put scraps of metal lying around the battlefield on string to use as amulets. Once all five were made, I wore one around my neck and asked the soldier for a blade of some kind. He tentatively handed me a dagger. I placed the point of the knife against my palm and pressed. It felt more like a blunt rod than a sharpened blade.

  Now confident in the amulet’s protection I handed the dagger back and said, “You can now try to cut me if you don’t believe I was actually trying to draw blood.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He protested.

  “As you wish.” I put the amulet I was wearing around his neck. “You can try to cut yourself, but you won’t be able to.”

  He did the same as I did and pressed the point into his palm, but with much more trepidation. His eyes widened when he felt no pain. He raised the blade and slashed against his arm which left no injury.

  His look softened as he smiled “Thank you this will make up for their loss a little.” He swung again. This time the dagger caught the bone of his wrist. The soldier’s face contorted in surprised pain. “What?! Why didn’t it?!”

  “I said it would protect from cuts.” I clarified. “Blut force can still harm.”

  “That’s disappointing.” he said. “At least they will be safe from knives and swords.”

  I finally asked, “What was your friend talking about just before he died?”

  “Do you not…” the soldier trailed off, realizing, “of course you haven’t, you’re both a woman and a Sofian. You must have never seen death,” he explained.

  “I’ve seen corpses,” I said, “but this is the first time I’ve been present for a death.”

  “Just before someone dies, they receive a vision of the future,” he explained. “In the vision, they see Maximos wielding a silver sword a long as he is tall, facing an enormous army of Sahalians. The slower the death, the longer the vision.”

  “Another truth Aristocles has hidden from us,” I grumbled. “What do you make of this future Id?”

  “I’m going to need more to go on,” she replied.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, unless it’s a future directly ahead of us, I’ll need to search for it,” Id said. “I could follow Maximos, but for how long? If his body is like our mind, then he could be immortal.”

  “I doubt he’s immortal,” I countered. “His mind would still age. But to your other point…” I trailed off thoughtfully.

  “When and where does this happen?” I asked the soldier aloud.

  “We don’t know when, but it’s at the gates to Polemos,” he told me.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Is that sufficient?” I asked Id.

  “It helps but I still need to search a whole human lifetime for each future,” she said.

  The soldier stared at me while I had the internal conversation. “Why?” he asked.

  “I wanted to know more details so I could see this future,” I answered.

  His brows furrowed. “Why do you say you can see the future?” he prompted.

  “Well, I can,” I said, shrugging.

  The soldier raised an eyebrow. “Prove it,” he challenged.

  “Id, you see anything interesting?” I asked.

  “Um…” she muttered, then answered, “Yes, actually. One of the Sahalians in that pile isn’t dead – he’s pretending. He runs off after we leave.”

  “One of the Sahalians is still alive,” I said, pointing to the pile of corpses and then turning to get King Xander’s attention. Aristocles noticed and they approached together.

  “What is it?” asked the King.

  “One of the enemy is merely playing at being dead,” I said, pointing again to the mound of dead Sahalians.

  “How do you know this?” the King questioned.

  “I foresee him excavating himself after we’re gone,” I answered.

  The King seemed unconvinced. “You foresee him?” he asked.

  “When I said that seeing without my eyes was the least of what I could do, I was not boasting,” I told him.

  “How do we catch him?” ordered King Xander.

  Id searched time for a moment, then said, “Once he’s uncovered, a soldier should threaten him with his sword while another grabs him. He’ll manage to get away, which is why there should be a small line of soldiers, perhaps five, to intercept his escape.”

  “Give me seven soldiers and no one shall have a scratch.”

  The Sahalian escaped the soldier’s grasp, as predicted, and ran into the five Human soldiers prepared to intercept him. The enemy soldier came to a stop and looked around, seeing all the Humans still present on the battlefield.

  “Well, Aristocles, you just might be correct,” the King admitted. “She may very well think as well as Maximos fights. To be able to see the future – the strategic implications of this… why, we shall never lose another battle!”

  “And how many battles have you lost with me?” interjected Maximos, who had joined us while preparations were being made.

  “Hey look what I caught: a coward!” said the soldier who had grabbed the Sahalian by the neck.

  As the Sahalian struggled in vain to escape his grasp, another soldier drew his sword and approached him.

  Then came a halting cry, “Wait! Don’t kill him!”

  Everyone turned to find the origin of this strange request.

  It was Evander.

  Seeing all eyes on him, he made his argument despite his obvious nervousness. “Perhaps you Polemians have some knowledge that we Sofians lack,” he said, “but what I do know is that we know very little about our enemy. They are green reptilian creatures who have little difference between their men and women. We do not know their language. We do not know their political structure. We do not even know what they eat.” He pointed to the captured Sahalian, adding, “This Sahalian here, who has no hope for fight nor flight, could become a scroll on the strengths and weaknesses of our enemy.”

  King Xander looked upon Evander with great distain. “I could never allow a Sahalian to live,” he said. “You Sofians, who live too far to the west to see it, have no conception of Sahalian savagery. While the western cities bow to you for your wealth, the eastern cities bow to us for their own protection. They do not have the luxury of geography – if we do not arrive in time to save a city who have knelt to us for that very purpose, the only things left are bricks and corpses.” He shook his head. “To allow a Sahalian to live is a greater mercy than they have ever showed us.”

  The fear in Evander’s eyes was second only to the Sahalian’s.

  “Is your sense of revenge greater than ultimate victory?” asked Aristocles.

  “I am not aware of a Human being captured alive,” countered King Xander.

  “That is foolish of them,” Aristocles agreed, “but why should we continue to make the same mistake? What Evander says is wise: to defeat the enemy, we must study them.”

  “To defeat the enemy, we must kill him,” the king insisted.

  “To kill him we must know where to stab,” offered Aristoles. This point made King Xander pause.

  Aristocles rolled his eyes “If the principle of it bothers you so, you can kill him once he is no longer of use.”

  “Very well. Bind him in chains,” King Xander ordered. “What is your name?” he asked Evander.

  “Evander, sir,” the youth stuttered.

  “Evander,” the king repeated, “since you are so certain this Scaley will be of use, and because I cannot trust a Polemian to not kill him, you are charged with learning what you can from him. Report to me what you find,” he ordered.

  “Excuse me,” Aristocles said, “Evander is one of mine. He will report to me what he finds. I will not have you conscripting my students.”

  “You Sofians are so jealous with knowledge,” huffed King Xander.

  Once the Sahalian was in shackles, King Xander looked to the setting sun and announced, “We will march south for a short while, then make camp in the forest.”

  King Xander rode at the front, with Arsenio on his right and Maximos directly behind. Aristocles was on his left, with the Sofian envoy to the left of him; the rest of the army followed.

  “Why aren’t you returning to Polemos?” asked Aristocles.

  “Do you know why battles happen, Aristocles?” asked King Xander.

  “To kill the enemy?” said Aristocles, clearly doubting his answer.

  “No,” said the king. “Battles happen because someone wants to achieve something and someone else want to prevent it. Take the Siege of Sofia, for example: the Sahalians wanted to destroy your city. If you had not wanted to prevent this – taking up arms, preparing defenses, and spilling their blood – then there would not have been a battle.”

  “Is a battle just a physical argument?” Aristocles asked under his breath.

  “What was that?” King Xander said.

  “I see what you are implying,” Aristocles spoke aloud. “You have not achieved your goal yet.”

  “Correct,” said the king. “Our goal is to destroy the Sahalian city to the south. I only brought a few thousand men because I hoped to sneak through Sahalian territory undetected. We kept to the forested areas for that reason,” he added.

  “Well, that was never going to work,” said Id.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “He was spotted before he entered the forest,” she answered.

  “How?” I wondered.

  “The Sahalians have these… how about I show you instead?” Id said.

  She shared her vision with the rest of us, turning back time to the morning of the previous day. Moving the vision to the crest of the highest of the forested hills, there was a tree that had been modified. Planks of wood were nailed to its trunk, forming a ladder of sorts. At the top was a wooden platform, supported by the branches. On the platform was what looked like a table, except it only came up to knee height instead of the chest and it had a board perpendicular to the ground on one side. There was a female Sahalian there; she had her rear on the furnishing and back on the board. In her hands was a cylindrical device with one end larger than the other; both ends were capped with glass. She held this device against her right eye, while keeping the left closed. Rotating her head and the device slowly around all angles, she stopped only when she apparently saw something of interest.

  Id then showed us what the Sahalian was seeing: the Polemian army entering the forest. How the Sahalian was seeing them from across so many miles was a mystery. She brought out a mirror from her bag and pointed it somewhere in the distance, then began to flick it back and forth rapidly with no discernable pattern. After she stopped, a light flickered back from where she was pointing the mirror. It must have been a code, but one I had never seen before.

  Time skipped forward to dawn; Id was showing us what happened just this morning. In a similar tree was another Sahalian, who overlooked the soon-to-be-battlefield with his own cylinder of sight. From his perspective, he could see the spear tips of the cavalry but not the trebuchets until they were fully constructed. As we sped through the replay of the battle, he waved his mirror at the Sahalian army and they responded in kind.

  Once the Sahalians were encircled the first time, he waved his mirror at the city behind him and then dropped both it and the cylinder to run south. He did not stop until he reached the Sahalian city, and the city was quickly evacuated while the battle finished and the Humans took care of their wounded. The Sahalians were now miles away.

  I looked to King Xander, prepared to say what I had just seen, but Aristocles spoke first.

  “So, what have you learned?” he asked.

  “Huh?” I said, startled.

  “You look a particular way when you use your sight,” he explained.

  “Well, I have learned something quite important,” I said. “The Sahalian city is empty. The civilians are long gone.”

  “How?!” exclaimed King Xander, overhearing our conversation.

  “The Sahalians intercepted you at the most defensible position without shade,” I explained. “They would have had to witness your approach for that to happen.”

  “Son of a whore,” the king swore, “you’re right. But still, how?” he asked again.

  Taken aback by his language, I nonetheless answered, “It is difficult to explain. It would be easier to see.”

  After breaking camp the next day, I led King Xander and the rest of the army to the tree Id had shown in her vision. I picked up the mirror and cylinder from where they had landed on the ground and brushed the dirt from them. I then scaled the tree, with King Xander and Aristocles behind me. Once on the platform, I looked to an area of forest far in the distance, then brought the cylinder to my eye in the same way the Sahalian in Id’s vision had done. To my astonishment, the small area of land in question took up the whole of my vision.

  I handed King Xander the cylinder. “The object of your discovery,” I told him.

  He took it but looked at me with a confused expression.

  “Look into the distance, close one eye, and bring the smaller end to the open one,” I instructed.

  He did and jerked back almost immediately. Then he looked at some spot in the distance and brought the cylinder to his eye again. After a few moments, he lowered it and climbed down the tree. The king approached the Sahalian prisoner, holding out the cylinder for him to see, “What is this?” he asked.

  The Sahalian flicked his tongue, yet held a blank expression on his face. After a pause, Evander said, “I don’t think he can understand you.”

  “Just because we don’t speak the same language doesn’t mean he can’t understand,” King Xander retorted. He pointed to the cylinder with his free hand; still the Sahalian said nothing.

  The king gave an exasperated sigh. He looked to the nearest soldier and ordered, “Put your sword to his throat.”

  The soldier obeyed. Quickly, the Sahalian spoke one word: “Scope!”

  “‘Scope’? This is a ‘scope’?” said King Xander, pointing to the scope when he said the word to give emphasis.

  The Sahalian gave a single syllable response and repeated, “Scope.”

  “I’m guessing that was a ‘yes’,” said Evander.

  “Sheath your sword,” the king ordered. The soldier did so, to the clear relief of the Sahalian.

  King Xander then joined Aristocles and me back at the top of the tree. “With this Scope they can see great distances,” he said, “but even with this organizing an army like we faced should haven’t been possible in the short amount of time they had.”

  I then held up the mirror. “They use this to communicate,” I explained.

  The king looked at it, puzzled. “How?” he asked.

  “They have a language of sorts, consisting entirely of flashing light,” I said. “They wave this small mirror at another tree like this in the distance, where another Sahalian repeats the message further along. A message can be sent across the whole of their territory like this in a matter of hours – if not minutes – depending on how long the message is.”

  “Mother of a bastard!” the king swore. “That’s why I could never catch them by surprise!” He turned to me and asked, “Do you think you could sneak an army past these watch towers?”

  “Most likely,” I hedged. “It would take a great deal of effort on my part, considering the distances involved, but it is certainly possible.”

  “That’s good enough,” the king said. “Now let’s move on to the city.”

  Confused, Aristocles asked, “For what purpose? The Sahalians have all left.”

  “While we won’t be able to give them the black eye I wanted, they will have left valuables behind,” the king pointed out. “If we cannot slaughter, we may as well plunder.”