You know, I may have told my spirit companions to be on guard, but I really  was expecting it to be light duty. There shouldn’t have been anything so big or dangerous this close to the edge of the Great Forest that wasn’t from the forest. Even then, those ancient monsters preferred to rest nearer to the heart of the forest.

And yet, I’d returned to a scene of carnage. Thankfully, any injuries among the Hounds plus Fang seemed minor. Zephyr had some chips and cracks, and my wisp was apparently magic-depleted but otherwise fine, if anything she was in a cheery mood. All I could do was blink, taking it in.

A sand-flower, of all things, lay chopped to bits. Long severed pieces had begun to deflate as the clear gelatinous tissues they were made of leaked out. Of course, it’s important to ask what happened, but within my own mind I’m more concerned with the how of it. An animal like this that lives a mostly sessile life would never move itself all the way to a place like this. And if it did, something extreme must be happening wherever it used to live to chase is so far from home.

Going by pure proximity, this one likely came from the dunes of the Regigoss Desert to the east… 

Well, as concerning as this is, it’s not my problem.

I do my best to check everyone over, but fortunately no one got stung. Although, this incident has made something I’d overlooked rather apparent: without weapons they’re basically sitting ducks. Bright red sitting ducks, since they’ve all got some variant of that crimson uniform on except Fang. I wasn’t planning on it, but I suppose we should go back to Teleost after all; I don’t have weapons like that laying around my cottage home.

I listen to them recount their battle against the sand-flower in more detail over dinner. My partner sharing some of her memories of what happened with me while she sat on my leg and absorbed a slow trickle of magic from me to refill. Surprisingly it wasn’t Zephyr that was boasting about the fight, but her. However, seeing as she’d done plenty of boasting on his behalf, maybe he was content to just listen. It hadn’t been long, but I was beginning to suspect that he was the type to withdraw when he was embarrassed.

Either way, I was proud of my little partner for finding a way. No one would have been surprised if she had held back and just observed, but she had even made a big contribution. I stroked my hand gently over her head, sharing my feelings of pride and congratulations with her through our connection. I take a moment to enjoy looking up at the stars, we’d have to move camp after dinner. It wouldn’t be wise to stay around remains overnight, the scent might be enough to draw out the casket-birds and I really couldn’t be bothered to fend off a flock of those gluttonous overgrown chickens.

It was calm for a couple days as we traveled back to Teleost.

As I had expected, Fang approached me and asked if I would join him to help find a way to save his brother. He said that he understood if I, as a citizen and Magis of Arkos, didn’t want to help him with that or with fending off fate, but he decided to ask anyway just in case.

I wanted to say no. Of course I did. As much as those eyes get to me, it’s better that I stay far far away from him. It’s better if I continue to hide away and humbly live my life as a scribe in a tiny village. And yet, my mouth had already formed the sounds to say yes. I hope I won’t live to regret it, but I probably will. Eh. We’ll see.

I guess it’s time to do an impromptu experiment on the strength of prophecies and whether or not fate is truly inevitable. Maybe I should write a paper, I bet Teacher Velden would love that.

Teleost was just how I’d left it, lively and colorful.

Thanks to that, to sneak the Hounds and their intrepid leader in all we had to do was rearrange their clothes a bit and clean them up at the water’s edge. Without the crimson jackets, the plain undershirt and black pants weren’t a terrible combination; all Fang had to take off was the silly fur-lined cloak. They still stood out a bit, especially because the mixed fae of the populace would feel their heritage, but as long as they didn’t cause trouble, we’d be fine.

Considering it had only been around a week and half or so since I’d been here last, Orion and his family might still be kicking around somewhere. It might be nice to check in on them.

I had Zephyr stay by the lake before we headed into the thick of things. Ignoring the uproar, and even the lack of space, he was definitely a wanted character for all the property destruction we’d caused at Harpy’s Nest. Kinda hard to miss a giant earth-red clay snake. I wasn’t hedging my bets on the don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy most places like Teleost employ.

My merry band was suspicious enough on its own.

I’d like to say that I lead them around like an expert, but I actually just bought some lunch for us and asked them about any good weapons vendors they might know. This is a frequent stop-over for adventurers after all. There had to be a couple around here. There was also the open market area, which might have some hidden treasures.

A few turns off the east-west road later we found ourselves outside Bit’s and Bob’s Sharp N Pointies. It was one of the more permanent structures, built by people that decided to become Teleost locals. The two-story shop seemed like one of those places where the upper level is actually the shop-owner’s home, what with the small balcony briming with potted plants. That, and the laundry hung out to dry I could see peeking around the back of the building.

It had interesting windows that were simultaneously magic double-panes and the Arkosian traditional carved wood screens. The pattern had been customized into a stylized sword for one and a shield for the other. When we walked in a little chime rang, no doubt to summon a shop attendant. The walls were lined with weapons, even the more expensive-looking ones were on open display. However, I could feel the transparent barrier magic swirling around them, as well as tracking spells on a couple of the items. It was good spell-work.

While I was distracted admiring the magic, my companions had eagerly walked off to admire the actual products that were being sold. Eris and Fang were looking at the many swords available, Wren was off by the bows, Sigil was examining the spears, and Torin was carefully weighing different throwing daggers in his hands. I’d already told them I’d foot the bill, since they have no money right now. Although, it’d actually be the Magis academy footing the bill, for research purposes. I could easily afford it if I traded the shop a dragon scale or two, but why do that when I can use that dusty physical-combat research fund. Why do they even have one? We use magic. Maybe the founders were hopeful that a magic-knight would appear or something.

Either way, now is as good a time as any.

The shop attendant that pops up is a little kid with curly russet hair and dark brown eyes in a little leather apron that was clearly resized for him. He greets us in a friendly manner and asks if we need help with anything, but the others seem to be fine on their own. He seems a bit disappointed, but resigned about it, as if he’s used to shop-goers ignoring him. Probably was. But if he works here at twelve then I’d be more surprised if he didn’t have some expertise in something.

I don’t need anything from here anyway, so I walk up to the counter he sat behind.

“Say kid, you got any magic-compatible or enchanted weapons here?” I ask for the heck of it. He perks up, only to deflate again and frown. Must not have any, then.

“Sorry, I don’t think so,” then he offers, “but my mom or dad might know! I could go ask them for you?” He hunched a little, embarrassed about raising his voice so suddenly. A smile wound its way onto my face, amused.

“Sure, go ahead.” Might as well give him something to do. He looked excited about it. I leaned against the counter, letting it support me while he ran off to get whichever parent was nearest. Then I turned outwards to face the shop, only to see Fang making an amused expression at me. I narrow my eyes at him.

“What?”

He has the audacity to smile a little wider and shrug.

“Nothing.” He turns away, back to browsing. Although he’d since moved on from blades to a corner of the store dedicated entirely to wet-stones, polishes, and other blade, wood, and leather care items. Whatever. I yawn.

“Hello,” a deep raspy voice speaks from behind me, “my boy here said you were interested in magic-weapons?” I turn back to him to see an adult version of the kid.

I nod, “Yes, if you’ve got any I’d be interested in seeing them.”

He looks somewhat wary, debating something with himself.

“We do have one, but… it’s, well, let’s call it unique. It doesn’t exactly look like a magic-weapon.”

“Oh really?” I blink. “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Is it alright for me see it?”

“It is, but don’t blame me if it doesn’t meet expectations. Fair?” He crossed his arms.

“Of course.”

He gives me one last nod before walking into the backroom for a few moments. He returns with a small pine box, entirely unembellished and purely for storage. It was also rather small, to the point where I couldn’t imagine what kind of weapon would fit in it. He reconsiders one last time before he pops the top off.

It’s-

“A rock?” I tilt my head. The shop-owner cringes faintly, anticipating my reaction. I can see why he thought I might be underwhelmed, but-

“It’s beautiful.” I reach out, but I just barely stop myself. “May I?” I ask, wanting so badly to touch it.

He looks bemused but agrees. “Knock yourself out.” He watches me closely as I pick up the stone.

On the outside it was a hunk of raw ore, whichever Magis made this hadn’t even bothered to change the shape. I could feel the natural magic crystal embedded in the unrefined copper without picking it up, but not the details of what had been done with it. In my hand it entranced me; it was a self-contained magic-circuit. It would perfectly recycle its own energy, never needing to be refilled or breaking down. And the best part? It was optimized for only two things: durability and returning. It was a rock that would always come back to whoever threw it. Amazing.

I carefully set it back in the box before collapsing into a fit of laughter on the floor.

It can be said that the things a Magis creates reflect who they are at their core. I would likely never meet the one that made that rock, but in that moment, I loved them. They had one very specific complaint, clearly, and they had used every ounce of skill and knowledge they possessed to resolve it.

I ignored the various looks I received from my place on the floor.

“Hey, mister, can I buy that rock from you?” I dragged myself back up, relying on the counter to support me while my legs turned back on. He furrowed his brow at me.

“Are you sure you want it? The appraiser said it’s not very powerful, wasn’t even really sure what it does.”

“Yes, I’m certain. It’s more than magical enough for me.” I grin.

“How does three gold coins sound?” He seemed like he thought even that was too much, despite being the absolute minimum anything enchanted should cost.

“I’ll give you ten, it’s not often that I find anything as good as this. Trust me, it’s more than worth it.” I pull out the coins and slide them over happily.

He checks quickly that they’re real, weighing them and dipping them in a mild acid. When he’s done, he gives me a bemused smile again, but hands the box with my newest treasure in it over to me.

After the others have made their selections they bring them over to the counter, piling them up. That’s when I hand him a special token unique to Magis; when you buy something with it the shopkeeper says the price aloud, and then when the Magis it’s registered to approves the transfer the money will appear from whichever place it’s set to take from and send the purchase receipt to whoever manages that fund.

I just continued to cradle my rock, even as we went around to other places and purchased the rest of the supplies and clothing we needed. Let the record show that I blame my preoccupation with the rock for everything that happens next.