[Once Roy shows him how, he picks it up pretty fast and gives him a short, though perhaps slightly tight handshake. He's getting there Roy. And while Roy's appearance, skin color and features are very foreign to Zhang Liao (the only non-Chinese race he's seen are the tribal horsemen who live near the Western Plains, with pale skin and slightly wavy hair), they don't distract from Roy's other characteristics that are more familiar. He's spent 12 years in the army, and more years drilling himself in the martial arts to recognize the common physical traits shared by all warriors: an athletic build and rough hands from plenty of weapon training. That, and Roy's answer earlier on, lead him to the only possible conclusion.]

I see that I am not the only warrior trapped here. I am glad that we are sharing a room together. I do not have anything against the bookish students of this academy but I fear that I would make poor company for them.

[He somehow always scares off the young civil officers of Wei without even trying, but given that he was just fighting their soldiers a few months ago they might have good reason to fear his name.]

[Nope, can't forget the sword.]

The situation is dire indeed. Who would kidnap the innocent and young girls and boys to serve as pawns in some twisted game? It will be difficult to make a strike against our captors without involving the majority of the civilian population.

[That has to be the reason why, right? Keep the more experienced warriors on a leash, threaten to harm the young if they step out of line?]

So there are forces even beyond the comprehension of these so-called magicians. Home is further away than I originally imagined.

[He shakes his head, concern clouding his brow. The past few months has just been one upheaval after another; losing Lord Lu Bu, Lady Diaochan and Lord Chen Gong, only to serve the man who signed their death warrant. Fighting and training alongside soldiers he had just tried to kill in his last battle. Adjusting to the codes of the new army that he was now a part off. Losing old friends, gaining new enemies, earning the trust of all the other generals under Lord Cao Cao who were now his compatriots...his life has just been like a leaf tossed and turned by the fickle winds of fate. He arrived in Magnoshutatt with just the armour on his back and his twin axes, but his baggage is equally as heavy as a fully loaded trunk, just not as visible. Now knowing that even the mysterious and powerful magicians of the academy could not, and would not, help them leave, he is struck by the magnitude of the task that awaits him. Stuck in an alien land and forced to rely on smoke and mirrors rather than his axes, fighting a fight that is both internal and external, tangible and not, bereft of friends and allies and all that is nearly familiar to him.

He will fight, of course. Zhang Liao is not a man to give up. He would rather die trying, than eke out the rest of his existence in the academy as a bookish student of magic. But his prospects do look grim, which lead back to the first question he asked himself: how was he to fight this fight, when he didn't even know how he was going to do so in the first place, lacking the skills, the focus and the confidence he once had in himself? Could he truly continue on in his path, trusting it to bring him home, when all he had seen it bring was dishonour, death and destruction>

Roy Greenhilt seems to be a good man with good insight. Perhaps he could be turned to for assistance.]

Master Roy Greenhilt, you told me that it was still possible to walk the path of a warrior, despite all that has happened. May I enquire why you think so?

[Zhang Liao notices the gesture and grips the handles of his twin axes as well. Roy's answer both reassured and put him at unease.]

So all our training, it still means something.

[His training has definitely shaped him into the man he is today, but he cannot say for sure whether he likes the man he is now. His confidence in his abilities and his path has taken a giant beating after that mess at Xiapi Castle. But if he did not hold on to the path of the warrior, then he would have nothing. It is all he has ever followed, his reason for fighting, for living even.

The idea of not being a warrior is a horrible idea indeed. He barely manages to suppress a shudder.]

I do not know if what it means for me is right. But you are correct that without a path, we would be lost with no purpose in life. It would be a meaningless existence and a waste of potential.

I will continue on down the path of the warrior for now then, and I shall see where it will lead me, be it death or home.

Thank you for your advice, Master Roy Greenhilt.

[He salutes and bows once again, deeper this time than before to show his appreciation and respect.]

[His problems run deep, but until Roy is a closer friend he doesn't feel like it's fair to burden Roy with them. So for now, he'll offer a slight smile and a nod.]

I am willing to offer any assistance that I can give as well. We will need to work together if we are to escape in the end.

[So magicians were trained as warriors instead? Zhang Liao shakes his head; he would have to approach things with an even more open mind than before. It was clear that the customs and traditions of the land were far different than his own.]

If all is as you say, then perhaps this is less of a cage than I had originally imagined. At the very least my training shall not go neglected.

What about this...Magoi that we are to learn?

[There's a slight twitch of his mouth; he can't hide his dislike of magic very well.]

They say I am an Indigo Mage, a Strength Mage. I touched a...rock of some sort, and it pushed me back.

[He looks down at his right hand.]

I have never performed anything like magic in my life. I do not see how this is possible.

But why would they do so? What benefit is there in giving magic to the common folk?

Perhaps we are nothing more than livestock then, being raised for the slaughter...

[He falls silent; but inside a flame has been struck. His pride may have taken a giant blow in recent times, but he'll be damned if he lets himself be used in such a way. His grip tightens on the handles of his axes; he'll fight for the right reasons this time.]