Another Point of View

Disclaimer: Don't own please don't sue, thank you.

All right, this is a much longer chapter then the last one and I hope that you REVIEW and I don't care if it's a flame or not just REVIEW cause I'm not just making this while no one's reading it. And yes I know I said that I'm not crazy about reviews but now I am. But this is what you really want, the story.

Chapter Two

Somewhere near Chalons-en-Champagne in the Catalauian Fields, 451 C.E.

I knew what it really meant to be in pain. It's kinda of obvious when I tell what situation I'm in. I don't know, you tell me, how would you fell if you had two oxen carts on top of you with some pure silver lined on the ground (don't ask me how it got there) and an iron arrow on my left leg crushed by a pile of heavily armored corpses. How the hell did I get there?

It was after Attila became the sole ruler of the Huns in 445. I was a bodyguard and nothing more plus I wasn't at the level where I would protected him even in a silver blacksmith (even though that is painful, you become more known thus you become summoned more, us spirits love boasting, and saying this as a title would really,really freak out many spirits), more like the type that watches over him as he sleeps. I mean come on! That's more like a foliot's job and I was much stronger then a foliot even though I wasn't that experienced (though a foliot with a hundred years under its belt can really kill me).

There were four high level afrits that would always be sentries for the entire camp, a job suitable for me; there were always attacks on the Huns, courtesy of the desperate Romans. And during the day when human warriors lined the walls in watch, the afrits would keep taunting me as I went for my patrol in the camp, which I completed during the day. I let them do that for about a few months since I knew never to get the wrong side of any afrit (During the Siege of Alesia, I decided to try and get in the action; I goaded a struggling first level afrit and was pretty much about to kill it until it finally snapped and went all mad, flying green sparks all over the place and nearly frying me, it weren't for a large piece of granite that fell from the wall).

But like that afrit I had enough of those stupid afrits (enough stupider then the Will-O'-The-Wisps).

So in the morning around nine when Attila would be just eating his breakfast, like a routine, they took their preferred forms (a large black raven tenth level afrit, a horse ninth level, a Greek god twelve level and a man in furs also twelve level) and followed me as I tried to concentrate on the job.

"What a weak djinn, going on his foolish patrol," the horse stated being stupid and forgetting that I was forced to do this. Now a stupid afrit is a rare one or else they wouldn't be feared so much. But if the afrit's potent then it mostly covers that flaw.

"I know, while we get the real job we get to relax in the day,"

The raven snickered and he too gave a punt. " What a stupid djinn,"

"A idiotic one"

"A thoughtless one,"

I decided to at least reply back if not show them a lesson not to mock Nero. "You do know those are basically the same words right?" I turned away from a couple of horseman and turned a corner to the main gate of the palisade wall where two bulky archers walked about the wall.

The Greek laughed heartily. "Did you hear that? He said that they were the same meaning! What an idiot,"

The man in leather gave me a cold grin when I turned to see there unintelligent faces. "You should be given the Shriveling Fire,"

"That's only if I disobey an order ass," The smug grin vanished faster then light (literally only my supreme eyes saw it disappear). The man kicked me hard in the forks of my legs hard. "You're disobeying an order right now so keep moving,"

That harsh kick changed everything. Sure our masters punished us, but never our fellow spirits unless we are charged to. And the way he kicked, it was as if I was his slave. Sure afrits are superior to djinn but no one has ever boasted so much that they hit another spirit on its own decision.

With that, I was extremely pissed off at those four, and you don't want to see an angry spirit of any type. I threw my silver spear, which I was supposed to carry around, at the man in pelts. It hit him right in the head and thus he died immediately.

"Well look's like he cracked. After him!" The Greek shouted.

All three fired some type of magic; the black raven dual Detonations, the God a Hydrogen Blast (a type of Detonation only it's dark blue and a really powerful one cast by me can nearly grievously wound an afrit) and the horse a Spasm. I used a Flux to carry the Hydrogen Blast away to the sky and dodged the Detonations but the Spasm hit me in the foot as a flipped above one of the Detonations. I lost my balance there for a second but then regained it. I replied with an Inferno at the God. It started to burn his toga but it would only delay him for a while. I sent a Convulsion at the horse however it simply counter-cursed it. The Greek threw himself into the snow as the Convulsion flew at the horse. The flames were quickly extinguished.

I saw that no magic could really kill them without me exhausting myself on one of them. So I decided to go physical with them.

I became a fly and I flew around the head of the horse. It tried eating me but the attempts to chomp on me was fruitless, as I was too fast for him. When I had about five minute of fun irritating the horse, I became one of the elephants I saw in Rome.

The huge mammal crushed the charger with its feet and tossed the raven into a hut with its trunk by grabbing the bird and throwing it. The Greek had enough brains to see that it needed to use the air as an advantage. The man sprouted wings and took off. The elephant became a roc and followed it. We were flying about in a "dogfight" swapping scratches and hits. I finished it when I fired a potent Hydrogen Blast. The Greek ducked but it curved from high to low like a knuckle ball and so it was hit in the head. It fell ten feet up and when it hit the ground, it left a mark on the ground, which you can still see today.

After about having ten minutes into the fight, several peasants, soldiers and other spirits gathered to watch a "lowly" fourth level djinn own four powerful afrits. Attila managed to get word of this and so with some of his magicians, he pushed and shoved his way through the crowd and what he saw astounded him. There was I, Nero with a foot heavy on top of the Greek God (in massive pain of course), and leaving a dead man, a very squished charger and a stunned raven behind.

After that event, there were some mixed complications in no time I was his personal bodyguard and a second commander of a company of mixed men and spirits. (There were about 160 men and about 50 spirits; five afrits, twenty foliots, ten djinn and fifteen imps with the main commander being a low level marid). But it really was after a battle on the River Vid in 457 that he trusted me. Though there were heavy losses (especially the death the marid) we won decisively and it mostly because of… you got it, me! And with that I was the main commander of the company and his favourite spirit.

For three years up to 450, the Romans had been paying Attila a tribute to keep peace; the Huns had been taking over a hundred cities and slaying any Roman, women, children, it was no difference. I hated when they looted all the homes and massacred everyone, but it was my charge. So Attila wanted gold and a bunch of land and when they settled down for the three years and my services weren't that needed so I got more rest.

But in 450, during the time when Attila decided to loot the kingdom of the Visigoths, in the spring, the emperor's sister, Honoria wanted to escape the arranged forced marriage to a senator and so sent a letter to Attila for help, but also with her engagement ring. Attila the fool, thought it was a marriage proposal.

We were walking along in the camp and I was following and guarding him like he charged and because he trusted me so much, he decided to talk to me about it.

"Nero, she has asked me to marry her, should I accept,"

I rolled my eyes. "For the last time, this isn't a proposal, it's a gift,"

"Yes, a gift that asks me to marry her,"

"It doesn't have to mean that,"

"If you keep saying that, then what does it mean?"

"It could be a bit of persuasion,"

"A bit of persuasion?"

"Yeah, you know, they think that you love such loot that that will be a benefactor to persuading you,"

My master snorted. " Emperors and they relatives do not do that. But you know what, I've made my decision,"

"Good for you,"

"And I'll ask for half of the Western Empire as a dowry,"

"Good… what!"

There were a few letters and troubles after Attila sent the letter, like Honoria saying that it was fake, then Attila saying it was real etc. And what made it even more troublesome was that the king of the Franks was dead and that there were two sons to become king. Attila supported the eldest son while the Romans supported the younger one. With these two events, he "harnessed" them as an excuse to invade the Western Roman Empire.

There was a mass gathering off all of Attila's allies and also a mass summoning. There were thousands of soldiers, men and djinn alike. There were mostly djinn that were used as canon folder and they were low levels like first levels or second. My company had been put in the main group and I had demi-afrits instead (they weren't too happy that a djinn lower then them had been placed in charge).

In 451 we marched in thousands to Gaul. We sack nearly all the cities in Gaul and when we sacked Metz, we only had about a hundred thousand composed of a small number of men and spirits alike compared to when we started. And Aetius, a Roman general that stayed with the Huns during his childhood, had gathered allies as well including the all-powerful Therodoric and was marching to meet Attila with an equally power force and even more spirits then the Huns.

After a long siege at Aurelianum (in which I nicely dealt with a group of mid level afrits with another demi-afrit named Lyra and that increased my title to Afrit Killer which I'll come on about some other time, I swear I will) word had reached of a massive army with tens of thousands of afrits and high djinn and a tremendous speed. By this time, Aurelianum was just under our control and Attila, out of pure pressure was pulling the army out the sacked city to find a spot to make a stand.

Attila had called his commanders, spirit and men similar to his personal hut. There I saw all the big commanders. There was a massive scarred man that was in charge of the foot warriors and had a special helmet that had two horns on the head, all the other attributes of a normal Hun head covering but there was a bright red hawk on the front gesturing that this was a man to fear. I heard tales of this man; he could kill djinni without the use or help of any silver or any other spirit. I could believe that the minute I saw him; during the meeting I tried staying away from him.

There was the archer commander, tenth level djinni that preferred the form archer wearing a uniform similar to the Romans. There was the horse commander, a thin, clean but flexible man who always had a few oats ready to feed any horse (he was sweeter then pie when it came to his horses but he was a mad man with a bad temper with the other warrior riders and rumor has it that he killed a man for forgetting to feed it for one meal). There were a bunch of other minor people until the last man came in; the supposed second in command came in. He was man with bulky muscles and a ghostly pale face and barley any scars. He had on ridiculous clothing; a woolen hat, furs that looked like he tore it right of the animal, he almost had no sign of armor unlike all the others. I would have jibbed him about his weird and strangely hilarious clothing if it weren't for a madrid that choose the form of a tall and fat man (I would have made fun of the madrid's potbelly and even though he can't kill me, that doesn't mean he can't make me suffer).

"I've called you all here to notify you…" I decided not to listen; I knew what the entire thing was about; the Romans were coming and we need to retreat and yada yada. This was basically a waste of time to come, but hey, I have to or it's the Shriveling Fire. Besides, I needed the rest from sacking this city.

Of course I had one ear faintly open for anything new and I found nothing. Good, now I can rest well. But just as I was reclining, I heard five words that didn't mean good.

"Tens of thousands of afrits…"

I immediately sat up as I was slumped in my wooden armless chair and listened intently.

"Ten of thousands of afrits was in the army was the rumor. Even Misue's" (the horse lover) "spies reported at least two thousand demi-afrits if not full afrits. We must move back to our homeland or be destroyed," The man with the different helmet sat back down.

Attila stood up slowly. He thought for a moment then began. " Dachen"(the guy with the weird helmet) " is correct. We must get out of here. But I also disagree with him. If we go back home, then they will track us anyway and will wipe out everyone if we were to go home. So, we must retreat to somewhere… advantageous. Tell everyone under your command to pack up now. You are all dismissed."

I went back to the camp with a scowl on my face. Attila wasn't doing this for the "safety" of his people; it was for honour!

I know a bit of that. Us spirits don't like getting insulted or feeling low but it's not like we'll secure it for our lives, that's what these warrior and leader magicians are like; it doesn't matter if they die, as long as they keep their well known title.

Aside from this, the huge thing about 2 thousand afrits annoyed me. Like I said before, any afrit is an afrit to avoid. They are tough cookies and trust me, when I say they are a tough cookie to kill, I mean that they are a tough cookie to kill (Like as in twenty direct strong djinn powered Detonations tough) including demi-afrits.

Speaking of demi-afrits, my small group of them was waiting for me.

I turned a left past some burning sausages and to our small area. There were five large tents for my group each able to have ten spirits in it. The demi-afrits were embarrassed that I was their leader but after they saw me at Metz, boy were they gloating (I easily killed a sixth level afrit single handedly with magic and was still able to eat five imps, take down two fifth level djinni and destroy three third level djinni). So when I got to the camp, I usually get a warm welcome, which I got when I came back from the gathering.

After settling them down, I told them to pack up.

"What, why? We just set up everything! Now we have to stow again!" complained a demi-afrit Jacksoness. He was known in the group for his powerful and crazy Detonations and Hydrogen Blasts. His preferred form was a yak with a monk like hair and standing on two legs.

"Because of Attila's stupid honor thing,"

"How do you know Nero?" asked a female one called Amandonia. Her preferred form was an anaconda.

" I don't know, you tell me, my master is Attila and has been for the last several years and don't you think I'd know?"

"Not really,"

I rolled my eyes and went to talk to my second in command and third in command. My second was a large eagle with literally golden feathers and his true form was a massive big blob of eyes and tubes. He could lift the world he wanted to and his Infernos blew up on contact leaving a large trail of fire which those that hadn't been killed by the explosion would be lying in. He was an afrit fourth level and was called Famosly and was about four and a half millenniums old.

My third, Alfonso, wasn't that strong and his preferred form is a lizard but a lizard with a large appetite. Even though he was only a seventh level djinni, he could swallow an afrit. Despite his small true form, his Hydrogen Blasts could rip the weakest afrit(which would still be strong enough to take down all the foliots in the Other Place which is still pretty hard to kill em' all).

"Get the camp packed up again and get everyone to the front of the entire army oh and Famosly, you're in command until I get back,"

"Where are you going?"

"Where I have to go back to; my master. I have to accompany him for the retreat,"

Attila decided to go to Orleans where he might stand a chance (don't ask me how, when I did, he was in a bad mood so he gave me the Stipples during the trip when he made the order and my tail of the leopard form I was in was on fire for the rest of the trip) but the supposed all powerful army of Aetius had beat us to the city.

From what I saw in the planes a few hundred metres away, it appeared that the Romans were a little rushed and disorganized but after over five hundred years of the power of the known world, they were known to pull off last minute wins or a win but with heavy losses even though a crumb of comfort was that the army was the same or less then ours.

Attila then gave the word to move back to the direction of the Danube River. But the Romans easily caught up to us and on June 20th on the Catalauian Fields were the stand between the invincible Attila and the great general Aetius.

As a Hunnish tradition before great battle, Attila had diviners examine the entrails of a sacrifice (which wasn't to beautiful to do on a bull). I really didn't want to see the diviners do their prediction with a bunch of organs but Attila had to charge me to watch the entire thing, to make sure no suspicious magic was performed.

Two women in silk and cotton shoes (that were soaked from the dew on the cold summer night) had picked and turned at the organs for what seemed to me hours and hours though it was only 20 minutes. I was toughing it out from seeing all those guts (hey I'm not one of those blood thirsty djinni and I was only at about a dozen battles; so when I see a guy get beheaded, I still finch) while Attila waited patiently.

Finally what seemed to be an eternity, the women looked up from the mess and started their prediction.

"This is a hard one to read but we have managed. This battle will have equal forgoes. Thou will have a disaster fallen upon ye, while the Romans will have a leader dead among they."

There was dead silence. After five minutes of irritating stillness (I'm one of those jumpy ones, I don't like the sound of silence, it means there's something a brewing), Attila politely (this rarely happens) asked, " Is that all?"

"Yes," the two old women replied in union.

"Then you are dismissed,"

When they left with their silk robes flying, Attila turned to me. "Get everyone ready and march them over to my personal tent in twenty minutes,"

I disappeared in a puff of smoke and went to the large mass of tents. As I went kicking and giving tents a small shock to wake them, among the noise I was a little concerned about the predictions. I really didn't believe those predictions (not that I wasn't superstitious) they were saying them in a freaky voice that could scare and bring down the house for an afrit and I had a bad feeling about this prophecy.

What was even freakier was that it was true.

The first thing is review! Now in the next chapter, the battle will take place and will end Nero's connection with the Huns Oh and there won't always be battles since djinn aren't always used for that.