Another point of view

by The known author

We have seen the past of djinn from magicians. What if we saw it from another point of view, a djinni view? Nero, an odd but powerful djinni, tells his story. As he goes past major events in history, he sees a new thing in his purpose in the world.

4. Fall of Rome Part 1

Another Point of View

Disclaimer: I don't own Bartimaeus trilogy, don't sue.

Chapter 4

Nero

After Attila, I had a few summoning, practically with the Romans since they had noticed me during my servitude with the Huns. During the twenty-five years from the Battle of Chalons to my scenario now, I had about thirty masters, of both Barbarians and Romans. And my scenario? I was being held up literately by a fifth level marid by the collar pushed against a iron wall with two afrits, levels six and ten with silver short swords behind him (the afrit) and with peasants, Romans senators and some wounded Roman Optios and Milites running away with houses and buildings on fire. They were chased by one side of Italian barbarians who were easily storming Rome with angry resilience commoners coming on the other side.

This was the Fall Of Rome. I was in the middle of it all.

It started when my last Roman master had summoned me in 475 after a successful campaign led by me, a year before Rome was plundered. After summoning me again from the Other Place (I had been in my master's service for that year) and ignoring my words to tempt him to get out of his circle, he quickly picked up a sleeve of his toga about to slip out of the pentacle and summoned the damn djinni. Like me, he was a puff of smoke and was taunting the Roman but he silenced him.

At first I didn't realize who he was but then, I checked the planes and, it was the same djinn at the Battle of Chalons who left me under a bunch of carts.

I just stared at him and when the Roman silenced him, he saw me and his face was a little surprised.

"Well, looks like you managed to get from under. How did you do it? I didn't think you would survive the battle nevertheless the weight I put on you,"

I stayed silent.

"Cat got you're tongue?" Bartimaeus turned into a black cat and pawed his own tongue.

" You're the one who did that?"

Both of us turned to our master and saw that he was the one who spoke. His voice was a soft yet stern one that chilled fire. He had a tanned skin and had a couple of molar teeth missing. He was like a mini Caesar (he was about twenty years old). From what I learned during my servitude with him, he was a rising star in the Roman military and had killed an afrit by pure skill (and I'm guessing pure luck), until an arrow stuck in a bone in his leg forced him to resign from the military; he couldn't run the hard terrain that the Roman army had to cross. But even though it was the end of his career, he had enough money to live properly. Besides, during his military vocation, a magician there had taught him the basics like how to protect oneself during a summoning and something like that. The highest he had summoned was a major foliot. But after the arrow incident, he secretly taught himself how to summon a spirit of an afrit. And when the emperor heard of this achievement, he automatically put him as a senator, for one: fear of downfall and two: a powerful ally. He would have made a perfect general; he knew every tactic during that time, he knew secretes for new recruits to know so that they would survive and many other strategies. For example, if he were asked which to choose, an afrit or five djinn, he would have picked the djinn. And as for the reason, he would have said. "Well the afrit and five djinn can kill the same amount of men, but the afrit can only do one thing at a time where's djinn can do five other things. Besides, the five djinni are more efficient," and that is a true general's answer. On my personal note, he was a good master; he only did the Stripples when it was truly needed (lots of masters punish us for no reason) and he knew limits to our abilities and was a little more trustworthy then most.

So there he was, asking us a question like we were normal people (where we are very superior… maybe that's why magicians always summon us, because they know we are better) and asking Bartimaeus a question probably only djinni would find out about.

Bartimaeus just nodded (probably from the shock of a human asking a djinni a question).

"Well, looks like I choose another satisfying djinn. Anyway, both of your charges are to simply guard me; all the other magicians are dealing with the barbarians and there are more people our to get me… met me outside my house,"

We disappeared without a word.

Bartimaeus

This master was quite odd; he asked us a question out of the blue and acted like we were normal. Hadn't seen that since Ptolemy… I still haven't gotten over him. What do you expect, it wasn't even a thousand years since he died.

It wasn't the master that was on my mind but the same Nero. He had managed to get from under those wagons, the silver armor, silver sparkles and an iron arrowhead and still survive without a bruise on his essence. Mmmm… he might be stronger then it seems he is. And now I'm a part of his team. This was going to be interesting

It was a late summer day and the skies were total blue. We were in Rome and apparently my master's house was by the sea and the port was extremely busy. Legions boarded triremes headed for Northern Italy with some cavalry following them. I took this in for a moment, and then turned to the black dog beside me also examining the beautiful view. The dog said while admiring the sight "Why do you always take the boy's form?"

"Why can't I?"

"I never said you couldn't; I'm not you're master,"

"Though you wish you were, right?"

"I never said that… that's besides the point. Why do you and who is he?"

I shifted uneasily on the stone sidewalk. I never told anyone, especially a djinni why. Maybe I could stall by telling who he was until the master came.

"He was…someone I knew,"

Nero rolled his eyes. "That's news,"

"Fine…you really want to know? You do? Well brace yourself. He was one of my masters."

He wasn't ready for that at all. His eyes bulged and in all, his black dogface was entirely traumatized. His form shifted from a dog to a crow as a result from my answer 1.

"Do you just love black animals?"

"A master!? You've got to be kidding me. You mean one of those people who lock up in a damn pentacle and make us do impossible things. Are you…"

"Just to let you know, he did none of those."

That stopped him good. He began to think hard. I hoped the master came out that door soon cause it was really hard and embarrassing to talk about Ptolemy. But there was no such luck.

"Are you saying you could have eaten him?"

I hesitated before replying. "Yes. And before you say anymore, this is like an honor for him,"

"Why are you honoring him for? Purposely giving you a chance to eat him? What's the point anyway if you didn't eat him? Beside I bet you ate lots of magicians and I don't see you in their form,"

I was angry on how he talked with him. Then I reminded myself that he didn't know anything about Ptolemy. I breathed in deeply but quietly.

"He gave me three gifts which no other magician would ever do, an exception and…"

Fortunately the master came out and gestured us to follow him. I eagerly followed him leaving Nero behind. He caught up and tried to start it up again but the Roman silenced him. I grinned silently and inwardly.

We walked among the crowd. Traders were bargaining and trying to out shout one another. Some traders attempted to sell my master something but he waved it away. Spices and dancing girls were on show and platforms as well with tame bears. Nero for some reason was a little frightened by the noise and though he tried to keep his calm while watching over our master though the throng, every now and then, when an Asian or Middle Eastern man or women jumped out at him with a good, he would flinch; so much for being an Afrit Killer.

"Hey, hey, calm down, they're just human,"

He looked at me blankly. He eyed a low level djinn passing through us before replying. "I know. It's…something I've experienced before that makes me afraid of traders in crowded markets."

"Mind telling me what it is before that gives you this fright?"

"Not unless you tell me why you always take that boy's form,"

I realized that I was still in Ptolemy form and I changed to a slave from the Nile. I ask you, doesn't he sound like a magician when he suggested that trade! Sounded perhaps even worse! And he made a fuss over when I said that Ptolemy was one of my numerous masters when he made it like he wanted to be like one! Sure we all hate being summoned but we spirits definitely never in their life will want to be a magician 2.

For no reason, I wanted to push him into a crowd; I did so. He tripped into a crowd of nobles and caused a huge commotion. Aristocrats tripped over their togas and market stalls fell. Dancing girls lost their beat and fell to the ground. Music from musicians squeaked unpleasantly and even some tame animals had broken free. And among the chaos I whistled innocently and hurried to my master.

When I looked back after a few minutes I saw that some djinn and foliots fixed up everything and the scene was back to normal. Nero came over to our master still focused on the road ahead and gave me a suspicious look but then surveyed the area.

After ten silent minutes of walking, the crowd thinned and soon there were only a few people of all social classes were walking down the stone walkway. We came to a bar where suddenly, two soldiers in armor with short swords at their side brought out four regular commoners, each guard holding two men 3 by the gruff of the neck.

"Here sir, are boys that have been found to be against the government; we caught them just in time 4 about to murder several members of the Republic with knives,"

"Put them in the public cells, I'll talk to them later after the meeting with the Emperor."

They moved on and we got closer to the Roman Forums.

The senate was formed at a table in a massive building in a crowded area where most of the government was centered. Usually, several things would have been discussed, and in the time of Pax Romana, it was mostly cheerful things. But now, the empire was falling just like every other ones. Resilience was growing among the commoners year after year, barbarians were always on their front step (in the end, luck was always in their favor), and the djinn and their army had almost no power to stop it. That sent the government into panic.

"We must stop the Italian Barbarians; they are advancing the farthest of all the tribes and have already gathered all their allies and are led by the traitor Odoacer to here. We must get all of our armies and counterattack when we can," an elderly man finished, dressed in the same white togas as the others around the table. A young black haired man shouted out an agreement and slammed his fist on the table in anger.

"What are we doing? We should be getting active and be planning to destroy the detested barbarians. We are talking nonsense at these meetings; it makes them become rubbish."

Arguments sounded all over the place, each one trying to out shout the other. Nero had never experienced this loudness so he lightly winced and covered his ear. I smirked and looked on with amusement.

Suddenly, my master slapped his scarred hand hard on the marble table and bellowed out a shushing sound. The room almost immediately calmed down. Even the talkative youth stopped like the others.

"We do not need to do this nonsense squabbling. We need to decide on something fast; like Barrrius 5 said, every second counts. I suggest we do a spirit gathering and send the vast group to battle, mostly against the Italian advance force. Consuls, continue."

My master sat down and an elderly man with an olive leaf crown on his head slowly rose up as his delicate body was frail and looked as if he would fall. He slowing spoke, his Adam's apple wobbling fast as if he had trouble speaking.

"The emperor de facto 6 is worried about the threatening Italians that have already rushed past Milan easily. And the collapsing army also makes him more stressed, so I believe that if the emperor were here, he would approve of the demon gathering, but unfortunately he isn't so I will send a message giving permission to sign a contract that allows …"

Suddenly, the fourteenth level djinni that had been guarding him had picked up the consul in his arms and moments later, a Detonation exploded where the consul was standing saying his short but powerful speech. A few of the nearby sitting men were flipped over but relatively unhurt, despite the spell being thrown by a fifth level afrit.

The afrit was a Frankish one 7 and was in a corner perched on a master pole holding the building up. When it was found, he jumped to a whitewashed granite column. Some of the old members of senators were shocked for a moment, and then sent their foliots in. Nero and I were already in the air, I an owl, Nero an Osprey. I was ahead of Nero, who didn't have enough experience to react faster then me. I released a Blast 8 and I realized my mistake of doing that; it could take down the whole building 9. Luckily, it hit the afrit, but her shield engrossed most of the blow. But she lost her balance; she stumbled back a little, and then fell cart wheeling unconsciously a few times midair. Then she hit the ground hard. It didn't affect her the most, but the limestone floor took a huge hitting. It cracked a little in all directions like a spider web.

A few djinn from the other senators surrounded the afrit. They were about to take him and disable him, when suddenly, a bright flash occurred and the result, was that all five of the djinn had flown in all directions and the glass in the entire building broke. A few minutes later, the gray afrit emerged from the smoke unharmed.

Most of the senators ran off already and the building was evacuated. Only my master, a few other magicians and the war minister were still here. The number of spirits here were: five regular foliots, two third level djinn, the fourteenth djinni from before, finally, Nero and I. The other five djinn were instantly killed. Despite this large number for djinn, it was still not enough to face the afrit.

The she-afrit easily took out the foliots with two minor Infernos. Then she jumped into the air, up two feet and crushed a third level into pie. Then she put him in her mouth and swallowed.

My master sent a plasm 10 at the afrit. She nimbly dodged it, only to get hit with a strong Detonation sent by Nero. Now the affect of the Detonations wasn't what I expected; I thought maybe it would throw off her balance, and if it was strong enough, shatter her impenetrable shield. Instead, not only did the Detonation break her shield, but also, it sent her flying across the room and hitting a wall. There was smoke rising from her, and even though she wasn't dead, I was stupefied that she would be knocked out.

The fourteenth level djinni in a bodybuilder form picked up the sleeping afrit. Three demi-afrits and a dozen Roman uniformed soldiers came into the battleground. There was glass everywhere. Cracks were engraved on the walls and floors alike. The dead spirit bodies were lying all over the place and there was a funny smell of smoke in the air, though there was none on all seven planes. That stench was in the room even when it was repaired, all the way to when barbarians pillaged it.

1 Yup he was that shocked. I'm not surprised that he was astonished

2 I personally love to be in charge, but not like that commanding

3 They were more like teenagers. The next generation always had the resilience

4 They're just doing this to so that they can rise in the ranks or simply to just suck up. Humans always do this unlike us spirits.

5 The angry youth

6 The new emperor was very young, so there was another politician, quite reliable; to be temporary emperor until the real one was old enough. Don't ask how a babe became an emperor.

7 I could tell from the form he was in. Well not the form, but the clothing. In the Franks, spirits wore a brown fox fur around them to show that they were Frankish djinn.

8 Short form for Hydrogen Blast

9 I don't care if the building fell on top off me, I could get out. But my charge stopped that and even if I did that, my master was a military man and could probably get his way from underneath and wouldn't die. I would probably get the Shriveling Fire for disobeying him and also if he's stuck under there, my ticket out of Earth.

10 He did this with the help of a third level djinni. Magicians cannot create magic or shield for it's us, the djinni and afrits and who make that happen. The only magical thing they can do is summon us and punish us. So if you see a magician say something under his breath, and a shield appears, he or she is probably telling a djinni to shield him by transferring the power to him

---

The signing of the contract was even more abrupt after the afrit attack on the consul. After summoning thirty djinn and ten afrits (including me and Nero), with five other magicians we set out north to face the oncoming Italian force.

We rode on horses and had to go slow, since the magicians couldn't go as fast as us, despite them being in the army before. It took us a week because of the mages to catch the Italians. During that time, Nero kept trying to pry out secrets about Ptolemy. I had no idea why he was so interested; Faquarl said he was a runt when I told him about it and Jabor wasn't the talkative type. So why was he so interested?

The night before we battled the Italians I learned his secret. He would talk only in the evening about Ptolemy. He was later then usual and was fiddling with a strap on the saddle. At first, I thought he finally might not ask tonight. But there was no such thing with Nero.

1…2…3!

"What was special about—,"

"Now before you ask boy," I snapped cutting him off. "How about, you tell me how you got these extraordinary powers." Nero was about to protest. " Don't lie. I'm a fourth level myself and I can't knock out a shielded afrit any day with any spell any day no matter how hard I try. So don't waste your breath."

He was a little surprised to hear my response like that. The other days was a simple yes, or no, give or take a few extra words. So he was silent for a few moments. He fumbled with the straps of the saddles. He was in the form of a twenty-year-old shaven man in standard Roman uniform. He pushed the bronze helmet up straight, and then slowly replied.

"Well… it's a long story so get comfortable,"

Despite being an expert with horses, I'm never comfortable on horses, no matter what I do; putting soft pelts under me, having a custom made saddle it is no use. I did some feeble changes, like shifting my weight or cross-legging my legs. In the end I was sorer then I started out with.

"It started when I was first summoned. My first job was to catch rouge spirits. One cold fall night, there was a loco afrit on the loose and was destroying buildings in Milan. Usually, afrits were sent after afrits, djinni after djinni etc. But this time, most spirits were busy and I was the highest level there was; all the afrits were chasing after a marid. So I was sent out.

" I followed the afrit into a forest quite a while away. The problem was that I had no silver weapons and I had no idea where he was going. And as a bonus," Nero said sarcastically. He continued. " He was a high level one; about eleven or ten. So it was midnight and he was making a huge trail in his wake. After an hour of solid running, I cornered him in a part of the forest where there was a cliff. He couldn't transform into a bird before I would smote him. So he decided to fight back since he thought I was easy to take on. I was quite a challenge for him and amazingly, I almost killed him. As a last resort, he decided to use, Solomon's fifth spell 1. Because of the long fight, doing it might have killed him, but he had a chance. So he did it. But something went wrong, and he was killed as it backfired. As for me, I was knocked out and there was a huge tingling feeling throughout me like. When I woke up the next morning, my master, Caesar, summoned me. Satisfied that I killed the afrit 2, he sent me on another chase, where there, I amazed myself by killed two djinn just with one Detonation. And it was from that misused spell, my powers have increased; aside from the altered powers, I was more energetic, more alert then ever, and I could stay on Earth longer then most still being active. And…that's how."

I believed him; there was an afrit where Solomon tested the fifth spell on, it was the second test and this time it malfunctioned and the results; the afrit seemed to be like a marid. From that, Solomon didn't say that result for fear of someone overthrowing him and also for fear and a rising of demons; yep, he was a little paranoid. Besides, after that occasion, Solomon was exhausted till the end of his days.

Well a deal was a deal, and Nero would keep bugging me until I went mad. So, I told him everything. Everything about Ptolemy, from the scar on his chin he got when I was away in battle, to his favourite sandals. Then, I retold the events with him, starting from where he first summoned me, all the way to his third and last gift to me whilst he died. Nero listened quite intently, and I hadn't known a fellow spirit like that for a long time 3.

At the end, he was staring at the stars above thinking hard. The sky night was indeed, beautiful. I could see Sirius, Canopus, Arcturus and Alpha Centauria; the four brightest stars in the night sky and the brightest in this order. I knew this since I was with some of the masters who discovered them.

"Now I see, why who take his form. Indeed, what a different human,"

"Oh yeah, definitely. But let me tell you this," I spoke in a deeper more serious voice, making him pay more attention to me and leaning in more, almost falling off my horse.

"Let me tell you that Ptolemy, will be the only, the exception, human to do such deeds to us. You are one of those djinni who at first hope for a master, who will treat you like an equal. Don't give me that face. I know because all spirits your age give or take a few years lower or more, all your age do that. But aside from Ptolemy, there will be no other one like him . Sure, there will be a few who try to get your trust, but never give it; they will always have their own plans. We mustn't fall into that trap. That's who some of us get killed. And they call us demons! They are the ones that bind us in a pentacle like a prison; they are the ones that punish us painfully for no reason. They use us like a body shield. You have to learn that somehow, some time, one way or another."

Nero was a little surprised at that answer and I'm not surprised. Hearing such a large and great speech in the middle of a summer night riding on brown horses.

We rode in silence, listening to the other djinn conversations. One pair was talking about the glinting standing out stars that night. Five were communicating about the recent attacks on the Western Empire. The others were in a competition to see who had the best form. The afrits agreed to judge. Despite some interesting forms, I could have swept them all off with many different animals that would have stupefied even one of the afrit who was so stubborn that he would shake his head every single time.

And that was all that happened that night.

1 This is a potent spell that can kill half of a legion though the caster has a high chance of getting killed, which did happen to the afrit.

2 He sort of killed the afrit. If you ask me, the afrit was either one stupid one or one desperate one. Maybe suicidal…

3 Okay fine, a few centuries; Affa and all the other spirits Ptolemy summoned, I got along pretty well with.

Nero

I still didn't understand what Bartimaeus said the other night. I understood the reason why he was so fond of Ptolemy, but the master lecture. I don't believe him, I don't believe that Ptolemy was and will be the only one to ever truly treat. I think that the master we have is the next one. He knows our needs and our abilities and that he won't abuse it. But oh, would I find out later the truth…

It was late dawn when an imp came back screaming it's head off. We tried calming it down, but it was no use; it was going deaf with all the yelling. All of us, the djinn and magicians (the afrits stood guard at the edge of a slope. Our camp was by a cliff) tried then to pry the information from the imp while it was screaming.

"Was it the Italians?"

The imp shook it's head vigorously still screaming without taking a breath so far (it was going to choke soon).

"Are they in big numbers?"

"Oh, you don'tsay,"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"Well isn't kind of obvious? Or else why would this rat be yelling?"

Bartimaeus bonked both third level heads together. "Stick to the main thing,"

They looked humbly at him for a few minutes then continued their painful interrogation. But it was about to end soon.

"How far away are they?"

That was answered quickly. Suddenly, over the western horizon, Thousands of horlas marched in rows with silver spears and iron nets or other miscellaneous items designed to hurt out essence badly. Following the horlas were djinn with Italian uniforms on and they looked pretty pissed off (a few of us did a air raid run a several days before we saw this and there weren't too many spirits when we harassed the army. The five djinn and I threw everything from trees to rocks; I even saw a fifth level send an oiled haystack down. At the last minute when all the djinn below laughed at him for throwing "harmless grass" he set the hay on fire with an Inferno. I'm pretty sure you know what the result would have been. It's too gruesome for me to tell you what happened). And as I probably said, no one what's to see any grumpy spirit. What was worse was that the column was moving faster then any would expect.

"Well, that's far," Bartimaeus, said with fake cheer.

That's when we all ran off to the nearest outpost.

We had been running for three days straight, lagging only for the magicians even though they had barley rested. But now we were finally at the closest outpost outside of the Empire with our inferior temporary masters being treated. But now, enter the barbarians.

The outpost was like a mini village. There were a few crops growing, a couple of wells strategically spread out and several peasant families were living in sturdy houses. But really, it was mainly for military use; there were barracks surrounding the peasant's living area, every few hundred metres on the tall palisade wall, there was a tall tower, able to hold two or three men. The outpost was so important (don't ask why, usually we djinn don't go into politics) that it was guarded day and night and even had a few siege engines. But the most different of this was that this post had a stone tower with many archers lined up from the top level. It seemed to be unconquerable; it faced dozens of sieges and it's the only one in the post that has never had to be rebuilt.

We group of spirits barley had enough rest before a harsh horn rang out. Villagers ran into the tower in freight and men ran out of their billets well equipped for battle. Archers stood to attention at stand on the walls their fingers twitching with anticipation. The five magicians that came with us stumbled out of their beds with their personal djinni with them. We forty spirits were the only demons there.

Us spirits we divide into three groups. One was with the main defense on the ground and had three afrits and fifteen djinn. Bartimaeus, an afrit, five other djinn and I were on the wall. The rest were in ambush tactics ready if the Italians broke in.

Just as an imp messenger (okay fine there were other spirits, but only imps) flew off to the nearest army camp, the leaders of the defense (us) including the mages rode to meet the leaders of the attackers. I just lay down on the wall foot space and stared at the cloudy sky. It was a cold day with the winds blowing quite strongly. The wooden wall shook slightly. Two djinn put Binds, Nexus and Hexes all over the wall. The afrit on the wall helped them. Neither Bartimaeus nor I made a move to help them.

The ranks below shuffled from one: the cold and two: nervousness of the massive oncoming battle; most of the humans were barley older then twenty. It was unusually cold for late August weather. That usually means bad, which it of course with me, always happens.

The mages on our side said something wrong in the mini meeting, and the leader screamed a war cry in anger. The mages and Roman leaders clumsily ran back to the front lines. Archers on the wall and ground released arrows that flew fast but straight. Many hit armor and shields, but lines were felled. The barbarian army marched forward slowly, hindered by the arrows flying at them. Out of their ranks, djinn and afrits flew ahead hastily in an unorganized order. The bronze arrows did not harm them.

One of the afrits released a massive Detonation. Another high-level afrit followed it with an Inferno. Both hit the wall squarely in a huge explosive. The Binds broke like threads snipped by scissors, and Nexuses fell like leaves. Splinters of wood broke off and flew in all directions. As for those men who looked up to see the explosion, they got a nice surprise in the eye. Cries rang out from the result of the falling wood, both big and small ones, it didn't matter. Because of the many falling lumber, half of the small defense gathered at the base of the wall were crushed, not even yet charged the invaders. Despite good discipline in the Roman army, the fear was too high and now days, everything Roman seemed to fall apart (one of the wagons the mages traveled in broke up for no particular reason) so the young men ran off for cover in the post. The middle wall tumbled right over, so that those in the back running into the post were also crushed. Bartimaeus and I were on the right wall so we were safe from the danger. But who said we avoid the chaos altogether?

Both of us managed to balance on the shaking wall, though the djinni that constructed the Binds fell off and was on the ground. The afrit on the left side was hanging onto the foot walk of the wall. The other four djinn were in the mess of the middle wall.

The invading spirits flew hovered over us, about to finish us off. Some though, went to run down the fleeing defenders (there were only two afrits and a dozen djinn left. One of the magicians was dead). Four spirits soared over us three djinn. Two were high level afrits, one a very high level djinni and the fourth… a marid?

Oh god.

The wall shook again from the trembling of the horlas pushing it. This section was about to fall. The djinni that made the wall defense had just perished in a plume of flames and his ashes were in the breeze now. Below us, men fled in any direction, though most knew they had to get to the tower.

Bartimaeus jumped onto a tower built into the wall and tore the roof off. He threw it at the high level djinni (who side stepped it) then sprouted wings and flew to the other side of the wall where the afrit was struggling there leaving me there with all four spirits. It was like leaving me on a cliff in the face of death; I had no idea why he did that. Until I saw that engineers were digging the wall out of the way and that Bartimaeus was taking care of them (even though I had no idea why they would be digging out the wall since there was already a huge gap in what remained of the palisade).

One of the afrits slammed the roof right back at me and I was only slightly winded. The afrit cocked its head in confusion (he apparently threw the lumber with all his strength) but the other three sent down Spasms down at me. I flipped over them and became an imp (despite it's humbleness, an imp form does has it's advantages like, avoiding spells even though true imps are easy targets) and flew into the air. The imp did some gymnastics moves to avoid the spells and soon became bored (plus I saw there was some urgency below) the imp became the Devil (not that I met him fortunately. So I took what stories said he was; a head in his butt, horns all over the place, ugly skin, I have to admit, something like us spirits) and all the tentacles and tails lashed out. All but the marid lost their balance and freefell all the way down. The marid flipped in the air to avoid the dozen of tails lashing out and sent me bawling in pain with a Detonation (it was so powerful that when I crashed into one of the remaining barracks, there were still green sparks flying for a few minutes around me).

As I got up, this time in a falcon form, I saw that the Italian barbarians were attempting to break down the huge gate to the tower where the remaining Romans and ten spirits (both afrits were dead and two djinni were dismissed automatically after another magician was killed from a random flying piece of debris). The barbarians were not failing at doing it either; soon, it would fall.

The marid was still in the phantom form that he started out in the beginning of the scrap and so had scared a few of his own warriors by gliding through the air making his screeching and whining noise (it even made me jump a little). Now he was circling the tower, tempted to blow it away with a Detonation. I saw, that he was going to, sooner of later. Now really I wouldn't have cared if the building had it's roof blown away, but naturally, the charges got in the way.

So I simply tackled the marid from behind. He didn't even notice me; he was too busy harassing a djinni that came out from the tower. The Italian marid flew to the wall (I was quite surprised how off guard the marid was) and crashed into the wall, face first. When he rose fairly slowly from his slump, the spirit seemed pretty surprised (I would be too if a foliot tackled me and sent me flying for a hundred metres, not that I'm a foliot, but to the marid in power, comparable).

He saw me flying to him, so he picked up a splintering pole and threw it at me. Particles of chips flew in all trends as it smote me straight in the chest. When I recovered from the feeble blow, I saw that it was just a distraction; the marid was on the roof of the last mini watchtower on the failing palisade. His feet claws dug in and an Inferno was lit in preparedness for me. I jumped on his shoulders in a goblin body. He staggered to the side and we fell off the roof. He managed to get one hand on the handle of the lookout tower and pull himself into the cramped space. My crude, crocked goblin clamped onto his shoulder. The marid gritted his teeth and threw me to the floor. The wall tittered even more at the blow. I flipped backward as he launched himself to where I was a moment ago. When he saw that I was above him, he wrapped his arms around my legs and attempted to pull me down.

We grappled for a minute, locked in a football tackle position. Then I kneed him in the nuts (if he had any, then that's where I kneed him. Yeah, yeah, I know, do male djinn have any? Of course they do, though I've known some that have none), he flew up into the air, and then I five-stared him in the back, and he flew, once again, face first into the floor. The watch shook dangerously. But I was laughing my head off (if you had been there, I would have been hilarious and even though djinni don't laugh often, there are some moments, and I am young so that should account for something) but trust me, you don't want to hear a goblin laughing (it's like a choked cackle with teeth banging and grinding together like nails on chalkboard all put together) and that's what finally woke up painful here.

While I was still vulnerable (laughing that is) for five minutes, he slowly got up, and then he jumped me in front.

I was a little caught off guard there, but then I pushed my legs into the air, thus throwing the marid off the watch tower and flying twenty metres below.

I shivered in the strong autumn like wind, and then sprouted wings and flew off to help those stuck in the tower.

Bartimaeus

A week later, Nero and I were back in Rome and back in our duties. The reinforcements had just arrived when the enemies broke down the gate to our tower though the leaders were never found like Odoacer, the de facto emperor was most pleased and of course my master gets all the credit and we "demons" are just ignored most rudely. Well, that old routine is back in swing now and right now, Nero is reinforcing the outer wall of Rome while I'm in the men's washroom with my master.

Right, in the toilet place you say? Communicating while sitting on the toilet was a common thing to do with high-class men. With me, is an imp that keeps wrinkling his nose in accordion to the loud sound of passing gas and splashes. It was suppose to be listening to surveillance imps spying on an important meeting place for barbarian leaders, but it was most likely concentrating on blocking out the bad scent.

But yet, I had no idea why I was here. I mean it's not like an afrit is going to barge in and upset the vital senators right here on the toilet. But for now, I'm going to have to improvise.

"We need to—ug—train more troops to spread more order across what Empire we have left. We –oh—must also summon more demons to deal with those that can't be brought to justice,"

A conversation that dealt with the decline of the Empire continued as like with disgusting sounds of stress that will show that he is trying to shit 1. And because of that, if the imp had eaten anything lately 2, he would have thrown up. But now, the only thing I could do was to try and block out the smell and do my charge all at once.

But after a few minutes of minor conversations, it began to be interesting.

One of the smelly ministers pulled from the bag beside him 3 and took out a large prism object wrapped in a hide and was quite the opposite of the lavish things they usually had.

When the minister unwrapped the thing that was engulfed in the fur, there was a black smoke in it; I noticed there was a strong aura around it. That meant that it was quite potent.

"I, gentlemen, have found a new type of higher spirit! Yes you heard well (Romous get your imps to seal the room's sounds more strongly) and this is no minor discovery either; it could save the Roman Empire from destruction!"

This had surprised me since pretty much all the spirits that could be discovered were already found in the time of Ur and a millennium later. Most of the magicians now and most likely later are too lazy to find more spirits; they use the same ones over and over again.

"Gentlemen, this spirit is like Nouda and will solve all of our problems. He doesn't listen to anyone but the person who says a specific sentence. And because of that, that is one: why he can switch masters without being dismissed and also why I asked you all to bring a djinni or an afrit; to protect this glass prism if anyone or thing were to steal it."

I just realized now, that there were other spirits in the room, also gagging over the smell. There were two afrits, five djinn and I. That's eight spirits, each accounting for their master.

The magicians started to get excited and began to talk loudly and frequently. And in consequence to that, they didn't hear the low rumbling going on quietly outside. None of the spirits heard it either; they too were very animated about the new spirit. Normally I would have dismissed the sound with a lousy excuse; I wanted my master to be killed so I could go "home". But my gut told me that I too could die. So first, I tried to tell the spirits but only one djinni listened and he just shrugged and went back to talking to his afrit friend here.

I kept listening to the rumbling for several minutes. It seemed like a minute problem but then I heard an explosion outside. None of the spirits seemed to notice.

The imp tapped me on the shoulder. "Sir, the imps outside of this room have not contacted me for five minutes," The imps sealing this room had to speck with this major imp every five minutes. It was either that the imps were distracted with something, forget to report or that they were dead. Frankly, I think it was the latter option 4.

Then there was a huge explosion that everyone could hear in here. All the men and spirits stopped talking alike. They were petrified to hear such a loud explosion. The imp beside me gulped.

Then the room wall where the door was flew toward us. The two afrits blocked it and it fell to the floor. Two bluish-gray Spasms flew to us. Two minor djinn hit the wall leaving dents. It was so powerful that both of them were immediately knocked out.

Infernos flew all over the room, bouncing off the walls, hitting djinn though unfortunately my master and his collogues only got a few scratches. In the end of the scrap 5, there was just me and the afrits left.

One of the afrits peered curiously into the darkness forward. He motioned the other she-afrit and I over. Our masters just sat there uselessly.

We walked about the hallway looking for the rouge spirit. There were security djinn lying all over the place with smoke coming out. I found the remains of the imps by the door.

"Where could that monster be?"

"Maybe back with his master,"

"Now why would he do that?"

"Perhaps it was just to annoy the senate,"

"Okay, but…"

While this conversation was going on, I was deducting things. First off, there was only one spirit that assaulted this community building (lots of other men naked were dead in other rooms and it seemed that the building was evacuated) or else our masters and we would already be dead. But it was a high entry since it can kill a bunch of djinn and a lot of magicians in such a short time. And it appears its master wants the newly discovered spirit. But how can that magician know; only the top people know about it. Unless there's a mole…

There screams to where the toilets are. We rush back to find the cube missing and two of the politicians were dead.

1. Yes, excuse me for my language.

2. Very unlikely

3. We all got a view of something very disturbing

4. These imps were very different from most idiot ones; they were actually trustworthy

5. It was a very biased one; only the marid dealt the spells