Skippii fled, terrified as a small child. He hid from the eye behind many tents, cowering in the dirt and pulling his legionnaire's cloak over him, but the eye followed him. Silver like the moon with the sting of steel, it penetrated all the world around him, seeking him, finding him. It struck him, consuming the sky, a power of great magnitude, dominating him like a man would an insect. Skippii wailed and pressed his face into the dirt, clenching his eyes shut, but still the light of the eye penetrated his mind, searing his skull, flaying his thoughts like an animal's hide, stretching him over a rack, soaking him in caustic liquids, killing him, and killing the things that lay beneath him, exposing his soul.

A rock appeared in the abyss. He clung to it out of instinct, like a babe grasping for their mother's chest. The purchase grew into a boulder, and he felt strengthened by it. Expanding beneath him, the boulder became a ledge, then a cliff, then a mountainside. The rock rose above the eye and Skippii's mind returned to him. Without thinking, he drew energy from the earth, just as he had done all his life. The warmth rose up through his forehead, igniting a flame. Rising to his feet, he beheld his foe: a shadow in the shape of a man. As giant as an oak with a thick brutish head and a terrible eye at its centre. A creature of myth and nightmare.

The cyclops strode over the many tents separating them, coming closer, growing in size and clarity, though its form was obscured by a dense fog. Cautiously, Skippii retreated, wary of the many sleeping legionnaires around him. The night was black, moonless. All the camp's fires had long since been quenched by the mist. There was not another soul in sight, not a sound through the fog. Disorientated, he retreated until he hit a wide path through the honeycomb of tents and chose to make his stand. He yelled wordlessly, all faculties focussed on his approaching foe, which had seemingly chosen him as the subject of its hate.

Drawing energy from the earth, Skippii bent it into the shape of a shield and sword. Fire erupted from him, taking on the image of his intent: a radiant cone burned upon his left forearm, and a blade-like pyre thrust from his right. It was a shame he had dropped his spear upon taking flight, for the cyclops' eye made the perfect target for his Firetail Lance strike, but alas, unarmed, he would have to endure.

Seemingly unafraid of his power, the cyclops stooped to snatch him up. With a shield-bash motion, Skippii struck its hand and dashed forward to attack. But the monster retracted, ever hiding in some veil of dark mists which only its eye pierced. He gave chase as it retreated from his fires, long legs carrying it over the nearby tents. Faces appeared in their entryways as legionnaires awoke to the commotion, but none seemed to notice the beast above them for the mists that obscured it.

A deep, crackling rumble like distant thunder rolled over him as the cyclops made its move. Striding quickly, it came upon him, both arms raised to crush him. Helpless to strike back, Skippii quenched the fires in his hands, redirecting the energy into his sternum as he held his breath, and fell towards the ground.

Striking the earth, he ruptured a Seismic Quake at the cyclops' feet. The giant fell, and Skippii pounced, fire in his fists. But as he climbed atop the beast, he discovered that it had evaded him. Perplexed, he glanced around fearfully, expecting a blow at any moment to come from beyond his vision. But there were only the mists, and the tents, and a bonfire which was coming to life, hissing and popping in the wet air.

People cried in alarm. Legionnaires sprung from their sleep, weapons in hand. Many faced him, shock on their faces. Skippii spun, searching for his foe, eager to point it out, that they might snuff it from hiding. Questions were asked of him, but they were nonsensical. Legionnaires surrounded him, but above them was no shadow.

"The beast," Skippii yelled. "A cyclops is among us."

Some men heeded his cries and departed in search of the monster, but many remained, encircling him as their ranks thickened.

"Our camp is compromised," he said. "Sound the alarm."

"Skip!" Tenoris penetrated the crowd and grabbed him around the shoulder. In his other hand, he bore a spear pointed at the watching legionnaires. "He means no harm. Stay your anger, it is born of fear. Unnecessary fear."

"Tenoris, there is a monster here. Where are our superiors? Where are the trumpets calls?"

"What monster, Skip? The night is quiet." Tenoris looked at him with disbelief. "You have been deceived."

Two strong legionnaires came between the two of them and bound his arms behind his back. The Octio stood before him, sneering. Slowly, as the excitement of peril drained away, his mind adapted to the truth. There had been no monster. Merely a vision, or illusion, or madness.

***

Skippii sat on the ground, bound to a post behind him in the small disciplinary tent. Outside was the flat parade field where he and Cohort II had lined up each morning in view of the whipping post. He had been left alone with his thoughts for some hours. Outside, his cohort's superiors quelled the panic he had caused, and no doubt discussed his impending fate.

Shame festered in Skippii's chest. How could he be so easily deceived? In thinking he was defending himself and the legion, he had burned down the tent of a companeight of sleeping legionnaires. Luckily, the hide hadn't caught fire too quickly, and no geyser of flame had opened up beneath the ground on which they slept. The legionnaires and their equipment were spared, but how would they perceive his actions? Foolish? Missguided? More likely, the accusations of heresy which he thought had been put to rest would resurface. Corrupted. Or worse yet, traitor.

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"Oyaltun… Who did this? Why? Were these your visions, or are my dreams tainted?" He beseeched the God of foresight, who had come to him in a vision the morning after the battle of Erithas river. However, he was not trained to commune with the Gods. He did not know their rituals, nor how to direct one's mind to be seen or talk with them. He was left with praying in the dirt like so many vagrants on the street, begging for divine guidance.

The tent flap was flung open, and in stepped Custos Maritor, followed by the Octio and Clarivoxa Kylinissa. Maritor's eyes were full of concern, and sadness too, but not charity. Not marcy. Skippii tried to rise, but his bounds were tied low on the post, keeping him on the ground. Instead, Maritor brought up a stool and sat upon it, leaning forward so that the two could see eye to eye.

"Another freak occurrence, right?" his primus asked. "You just lost control?"

Behind him, the Octio gazed down at Skippii with a dispassionate distaste, as one might a vase of milk which had soured and needed throwing away.

"I thought…" Skippii faltered. His senses had been so deceived that he even had doubt in his own recollection. "I saw the enemy within our camp. I mustered a defence."

"The enemy?" the Octio said. "Legionnaires are your enemy?"

"No," Skippii blurted. "A one-eyed monster. A cyclops, or so it seemed in the fog. A shadow, a great shadow. It struck me, I swear, but I defended myself and struck back."

"Fog?" Custos Maritor said, glancing at the arcanus. "Is the air not clear tonight?"

Kylinissa nodded slowly. "Fog of the mind, of the sight. Signs of trickery. Deceit."

"Or lies," the Octio said. "Excuses. Things in the dark. Stories and cyclops. As for the truth, eight legionnaires almost burned to death in their tent because this fool unleashed a power he is either too incompetent to contain, or else very much intended to unleash."

Skippii's head swarm. He didn't know where to start. "No, you're wrong." But all other reasoning failed him. His sight wavered. Was that the fog, still there, before his very eyes? A jolt of panic shot through him as he clenched them shut, wiping his face in his shoulder. No, there was no fog or smoke, just deception in memory.

"Skippii Altay," the Primus addressed him flatly. "Can you explain what happened tonight? Can you excuse your actions? There will be many more questions asked in the morning, I may not be able to protect you if you hide any detail from me."

The Octio scoffed. "Protect?"

Skippii bowed his head. "That's all I know. I thought we were under attack. I just did what I had to do."

"Perhaps this vision was a portent," Kylinissa spoke up. "A warning from the Sentieness Oyaltun."

Skippii's head picked up at that name. "Yeah, no, she came to me once before. After the battle, while I was unconscious."

"How convenient," the Octio sneered.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Clarivoxa said. Though her tone was soft, Skippii heard a touch of doubt surface.

"I didn't… I told my companeight," he said. "I explained to them, and one amongst them told me it was Oyaltun. They said that maybe the Goddess had chosen me."

The Octio laughed sharply. "This is preposterous. Remind me, aren't you astray? It's a miracle enough that you were accepted into the legion in the first place, and my bad luck for having to whip you into shape. And now you excuse your outburst as some sort of commune with a Goddess whose name you could not recall until the arcanus herself uttered it? You were given a chance to speak, and you mentioned not Oyaltun, nor any excuse for violence upon your fellows in the dead of night while they slept soundly, presuming to be amongst friends, not traitors, or lesser yet, reckless freaks."

Before him, Custos Maritor remind still, eyes closed, absorbing his subordinate's words with a resigned grief. Finally, he straightened and sighed. "I must order you, Skippii Altay, to relinquish these powers of yours. Rid yourself of this magia, if that is at all possible, and only then may you remain in my tonnage."

Skippii had seen it coming, but the order stung all the same. "I want to. I need to serve. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I can see that plainly," Maritor said. "I have known many recruits like yourself. You would grow up to be an asset to the legion. A proud man. But, all of this…" He sighed again. "I cannot do with it. I cannot keep the phalanx strong when I cannot control you. When I cannot predict you. If I can't even encamp my legionnaires without worrying, how am I to conduct a campaign? There's no shame in it, Skippii. Many legionnaires leave during the first weeks of a campaign. Some are unfit for the task and are discharged, others become injured, or their hearts abandon them and they desert. I don't want that of you. I want you to suppress these impulsions, these visions. Do not indulge them. If they are like desire–like the feeling of a woman–then don't entertain them. Turn away from them."

"It's not like that," Skippii whispered, feeling weak. "There's no desire in my heart greater than to be a legionnaire."

"Good," Maritor said. "Let that guide you, and do not stray. This is your last chance."

"Must legionnaires die first," the Octio said sinisterly. Custos Maritor turned to him, sitting up straight. The two shared a silent exchange. It was the Octio who turned away first, resting his gaze upon the shadow of the tent.

"I will guide him however I can," Kylinissa said.

"Devote yourself to it," Maritor said. "Do not be strangers. Help him however you can. Let him see that he is more than the power of one man, no matter how great that may be. He is a legionnaire. He shares in the power of a thousand men–many thousands–and that will always be greater, more noble, more joyous in being shared, than the lonely power within him."

Custos Maritor rose and made to exit with the Octio, departing with a final word. "But of course, it is your decision to make, in earnest. I will give you until sunrise to decide. I will return before the morning parade, and should you choose the legion over magia, you may join us."

"The Imperator," Skippii blurted. "Will he…?"

"I will speak with him once he is awake," Maritor said, stifling a yawn. "Do not worry too much, Skippii. To most of the camp, this will appear like someone spilled a brazier. Nothing more, until the rumours spread. I'll explain it to the boss before then."

His superiors left, leaving Skippii and Kylinissa alone.

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