The sun broke over the mountains, but neither individual noticed for some time.
They were, after all, fighting for their lives.
An old military training area in the mountains of the East Coast had been selected as the stage, and the combatants had agreed upon roles to play.
Morgan Lafayette was to play the role of defender, while Arthur Trevena was to be the aggressor.
When she had briefed Arthur on this training exercise, she had made it clear that the stakes were real. They would be using real weapons, real defenses, real magic. Any mistakes would put them in fatal danger.
"Of course," she had said, "the best way to stop making mistakes is under the threat of death."
Morgan had chosen the wargame they would be training with: asymmetric capture-the-flag. The defender would be given a 'flag', some sort of arbitrary marker, which the attacker would then try to steal. The game would only end when the attacker had successfully extracted the flag and returned it to a designated 'exfiltration point.'
"Conflict rarely happens because people want to kill each other," Morgan had explained. "Usually, conflict arises over something that one side wants to protect. And, usually, the conflict doesn't end if you drive the enemy away. They'll strategize, regroup, and try again. Conflict only ends when the aggressor achieves their goal or is killed."
Morgan hadn't given Arthur her third reason for choosing this game, which was that it allowed players to experience real combat, real strategies, real stakes, without being forced to kill their opponent. That wouldn't do, of course; Arthur was her cousin, and the heir of the Britannian throne. He couldn't play a wargame where he was certain to die. Asymmetric capture-the-flag was a game where the offensive team could use tactics and strategy to drive the defensive team away from the flag without taking any lives.
In other words, this training exercise was preparing Arthur to be a tactician as well, but he hadn't seemed to figure that out yet.
This was now his sixth attempt at storming the hill and seizing the flag.
He quickly dived behind a rock as the powerful shots of Morgan's magical rounds resounded through the golden morning light. She continued firing on the rock, pinning Arthur in place.
This isn't good, he thought. I need to get out of this somehow, but if I move, I'll be shot.
Arthur felt his muscles tense, his mind paralyzed by fear and memory.
Just like that day… all I can do is hide.
But this time, the Absolute isn't coming to my rescue.
This fear, this memory, this dread—it had been plaguing him since they started training six hours ago.
Each time he began his assault, however, the fear had slightly decreased.
Is that the purpose of this training?
A lump of molten slag buried itself in the ground next to him, instantly cauterizing the area around it and bringing Arthur back to his senses.
No time to get lost in my thoughts. I need to find a way to move to a more advantageous position without getting shot…
…wait a minute.
A spark of inspiration was running through his mind.
If I know what action she's going to take, I can use that to my advantage.
There's a spell… Carbon Copy. I'll use that.
As Morgan's hail of bullets continued to rain down upon his shelter, Arthur began chanting.
"Surge, lutum, et fac imaginem tuam imaginem meam, sicut Deus olim fecit hominem!"
Carbon Copy was a modern spell created for use in the second Great War. Whereas the first War was won using solely the arcane, ancient chants provided by Lord Ravensleigh, the advent of the Fatherland's occult war machine necessitated innovation. It was the Germans who first correlated the strength of the brain's understanding of the ideas to the strength of the magic produced; up until that point, nations had been working on the assumption that the words themselves possessed power. When the Fatherland developed magic chants in High German, which aided their conquest by preventing their enemies from understanding which spell was being cast, these assumptions were quickly discarded.
The dirt around Arthur began moving, chunks of earth and grass tumbling over each other, following the vague plan of a human body. Sand filled out his skin tone, while gravels took care of his outfit. Less than a minute later, the duplicate was finished.
Even though this thing looked human, it was no more than a doll for Arthur's magic. The spell, Carbon Copy, had already been programmed by Arthur's mind to animate the golem in a particular way: as soon as it was built, it began 'running' away from Arthur's position.
One.
Two.
Three.
More shots rang out, dirt being kicked up by the impacts as the bullets traced the path of the golem.
Go!
After waiting for the golem to draw Morgan's fire, Arthur darted out from behind his cover and began running in the opposite direction of the golem. Even if Morgan wasn't distracted for long, it should have bought him enough time to advance his position.
His gamble paid off.
Arthur could see a larger rock just a few steps ahead of him.
Perfect. I'll be able to advance up the hill towards the flag if I can get behind that rock…
He could hear the sound of bullet impacts growing louder behind him.
She's realized it was a trick and she's training her rifle on me again.
However…!
Morgan was too late. Arthur took cover behind the large rock just as Morgan's bullets caught up his position, the impact shaking the rock with its force.
Well, I am wearing this shield generator, he thought, but it would be better if I didn't have to use it.
What now?
I can advance, but once I'm on top of the hill, it'll be a firefight between us.
Flanking is my best bet, but she'll be expecting it.
I wonder if I can get the flag without her noticing?
That might be worth a shot; I could set up a dummy, try to make her think I'm still down here, then circle around to the back of the hill and steal the flag.
I doubt she'll fall for Carbon Copy again, so I'll have to be more creative.
Suddenly, Arthur found himself surrounded by flashes of green light—too many to count—as his ears were assaulted by the sound of nearby gunshots.
My shield! She's close!
He was panicking; a small beeping noise from his shield generator told him that the batteries were almost dead.
She's deliberately shooting at my shield in order to wear down its energy, he realized. If the battery dies… I'm dead.
Just as suddenly as the gunfire appeared, it ceased. Arthur looked up: he saw Morgan calmly walking towards him from the treeline, waving her rifle in the air as a sign of peace.
"Unless I'm mistaken," she began as she drew near him, "A few more rounds and your shield would be kaput."
"…yeah."
"Carbon Copy was a good idea, though. You're beginning to think like a soldier."
It was hard to resist feeling insulted by that statement; Arthur had completed UOTC during his time in university and had graduated with high marks.
Still, I suppose she's trying to show me the difference between real combat and an education.
"Thanks, Morgan. How were you able to move so fast?"
"Simple," she replied. "I never hesitated. I figured you'd be coming up this direction, and that you wouldn't be expecting an engagement until you reached the top of the hill."
She knew what I would do and used that to my advantage, just as I tried to do to her, he thought. Impressive.
"Well, are we going to go again?"
"No, I'm thinking we should call it here. We've been doing this exercise for six hours, and soon your body will reach its breaking point. We can work on your stamina another time, but right now, further training would only cement bad habits."
"Oh, okay."
She nudged him with her shoulder.
"Hey, cheer up, cuz. You're doing good. We'll turn you into kingly material yet."
He smiled, appreciating the encouragement.
"Thanks, Morgan."
I need to get stronger.