Nina leaned over the crack in the ground, peering into the depths. She turned to her comrades. “It’s not as big as I expected.”

The Chasm, as it was known, was one of the easier Domains found around Gran. Despite the name, it was no mile long rift in the land, teeming with beasts from the dark depths of the world. Instead, the entrance was an unassuming hole, a little smaller than a standard cart. The group would have missed it entirely if it weren’t for the Guild flag posted beside it.

Will and Annette joined her by the hole, looking in curiously. Squinting, Will pointed down. “Look, you can see where the floor is here. So much for ‘a grand Domain cast in skittering darkness’. Who even writes these things?” He said, smacking the Guild guide in his hand.

Annette stepped beside him, feigning interest. “Well of course you can see the floor down here, it’s the middle of the day.” Gently, she put her hand on the middle of his back. “It’s probably dark elsewhere. It’s supposed to be a cave.”

Will turned to her, a small smile on his face as he took on a playful tone. “Oh, but of course. I didn’t realize you were an expert on caves, Annette. Perhaps you should lead the expedition?” He said, putting his hand on her back.

She turned to him, moving her hand to his shoulder. “No no no, as the leader of the party, I think you should be the first to go.”

“Well, I’m really leader in name only, but–” He grabbed her shoulders, with a wild expression on his face, “If I go down, I’m taking you with me!”

Nina, seeing them playfully push at each other, just shook her head. Turning back to the cave entrance, she tossed a rock in, and watched it bounce off the craggy walls of the near vertical drop. It didn’t take long for the rock to crack against the floor of the drop.

Grunting, Gerald shifted a weather-beaten wood chest out of its hiding spot beneath some rocks nearby. “Children, stop playing by the hole in the ground,” he called out lazily, opening the chest. “And come help me get this rappelling gear set up.”

Getting one last push in, the younger members of the party turned to help him. “Yes, grandpa!”

Gerald just gave Annette a flat look as he began pulling out rope and well-maintained leather harnesses. “This is the equipment the Guild makes available to get into the cave system. For those of you who haven’t done anything like this before, it’s pretty simple. You put on a harness, hook onto the rope that will be attached to that tree, and then lower yourself down using the equipment.”

Nina took the rope, expertly fastening it around a sturdy tree near to the hole that had various names carved into its bark. Gerald helped Will and Annette into their harnesses. In short order, they had each rappelled down the drop, landing firmly on the cave floor and leaving their harnesses behind.

Gerald conjured one of his silver hands, entrusting it with a lantern that had a lightly glowing stone enshrined within. Turning to the others, he gestured at the lantern. “First thing you have to know about caves; it can be hard to get out, even for things borne on the air like smoke. A light source is meant to make things easier to see. In closed spaces, if you have a torch that throws off smoke, not only is it harder to see, but it actually dilutes the air you breathe, and can be fatal.”

Will nodded seriously, pulling out a small notebook as he did. “For a beginner Domain, it’s in a more challenging location than I expected.”

The conjured hand waved as dismissively as it could while holding the lantern. “Oh, this cavern has been pretty thoroughly explored. We could have brought torches, but I already had this bad boy from a previous job of mine. Much nicer than torches.”

The lantern bobbed just ahead of them, staying above the group as often as the ceiling allowed. Nina crept to the edges of the lantern light, as it increasingly became the only light. Her hand traced the hilt of her knife. “What kind of monsters do you think we’ll find down here?”

Gerald turned to Will. “How did the guide describe the darkness?”

“It said ‘skittering darkness’. Why? Oh! Is that some kind of Adventurer code?”

He shook his head, grimacing. “Oh, how I wish it were.”

-=-<^>-=-

Tarrus stood at the counter of one of the few restaurants in Gran that didn’t specifically target adventurers as their customer base. Run by locals, a couple and their kids, it was some of the most culturally distinct cuisine he’d had in this life. He stood to the side, watching as his order was made.

Kona, one of the owners, ran the kitchen, working side by side with an assortment of her kids, ranging from teens to adults. With practiced hands, they diced onions, peppers, and cactus, tossing them all into a pan to sauté. When it cooked down somewhat, they cracked a huge egg, nearly the size of his head, and poured roughly half into the pan, along with some seared cubes of meat.

He’d only been coming here for a couple weeks, spurred on by a recommendation from his parents, but something had been bothering him this whole time. “Kona, where do you get your ingredients? I know Gran has some farming, but certainly nothing on a scale to support whatever lays those eggs.”

She grinned, gesturing to the backrooms of the business. “My wife takes care of a lot of that. She’s got cousins in some of the desert tribes, and we trade with them. Most of the tribes make a living herding land dragons, so we can end up with a lot of lizard eggs and meat.”

Tarrus eyed his order suspiciously as he took it, several lizard egg burritos packed into a large leaf wrap. “Land dragons? So is it dragon meat, or lizard meat?”

The proprietor just shrugged. “Dunno. Dragons are just big lizards, right? Land dragons definitely fit the bill.”

He just shook his head as he walked out the door. I’ve seen a few dragons before. I’m sure these ‘land dragons’ aren’t as impressive. Pretty quickly, he was contending with the morning rush of adventurers on their way to the Guild, just as he was.

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Someone called out to him from the crowd. “Hey Tarrus! When will the Guild open The Manor back up for exploration?”

It was all that the adventurers had been talking about, ever since the Tea Party came back with that shield. Sensing more attention on him now, he called out. “The survey team should be at the Domain by now, so it’s likely they’ll be back tomorrow or the day after. Assuming there are no issues, I’d estimate you’ll be free to go before a week is out.”

Equal parts impatience and excitement ran through the crowd. He knew they’d be fielding more questions like this the closer they got, and he sighed to himself. And just when I had my own plans to work toward.

Getting into the reception building, he could sense the same energy as outside. The main room was packed with adventurers set to get a bit more work in before the Domain opened back up, as well as those already reserving time to delve it when it did. Setting his bag down at the desk, he prepared himself to power through the day. Scriptorium! Wait for me!

-=-<^>-=-

With the day finished, he settled back into the Scriptorium once more. Today, he had some specific experiments to run. He laid some samples of his successful work beside his workstation. Strips of paper that could emit light or fire, or become harder or sharper. So far, he had stuck to a faithful recreation of the magic structure he had pulled from already enchanted items.

He pulled his greatest reference so far, A Guide to Modern Enchanting, out of his bag, flipping to a page he had marked up more than most. Underlined with bold lines was a passage that read:

Modern enchanting differs from the ancient practice in a few key ways. The ancients, contrary to popular belief, were not masters of magic. At least, not by modern conceptions. From what has been uncovered about ancient magicians, it is understood that they practiced magic in a way that is more ‘instinctive’ than ‘learned’, as we do in the modern era.

To an ancient mage, magic was not something that required a great deal of thought and study to master. Rather, one merely needed a great deal of mana, and an even greater willpower. When casting a spell, an ancient mage would simply expel a measure of their mana reserves, and enforce their intent upon it, allowing it to follow their commands as the mana saw fit.

In the modern era, this method of casting is known as ‘wild magic’. While dangerous and often impractical, it can lead to novel solutions and truly spectacular displays of magical prowess. It was, of course, out of wild magic that the more structured forms of the craft developed.

When a wild magic user imparts mana infused with their will upon an object, it becomes enchanted. When an object is enchanted in this way, the mana within it naturally becomes structured. It was through analysis of these enchantments that the method of modern enchanting was born.

He tapped his finger on the next section, pulling the arcane lens into position for his first experiment.

Any enchantment made through wild magic is highly inefficient, often requiring a circle of such magic users to complete what a single modern enchanter could do. However, there are still uses for such practices. Complex enchantments, made of several combined effects, still elude the modern practice. Where intent based enchantments forge natural connections between the effects, current arcane lens technology has failed to fully visualize such connections.

Last night, reading over his text to understand where he was failing with the levitation enchantment, he had stumbled across this line. Placing a strip of hardening paper under the lens, he looked at the magic through the device.

Against the blue tint the lens cast over everything, Tarrus saw erratic lines of light hovering over his paper. Set within a circle, he saw a busy diagram of runes and patterns. The same runes and patterns he had constructed, before infusing the paper with them. There was a single input for mana, which he could feel with his keenly developed mana sense.

Setting that slip aside, he put his flame emitting paper under the lens. This one had been enchanted, but not activated. Under the lens, he saw two circles, instead of one. Similar to the hardening paper, each circle was filled with the various runes that made the actual magic happen. Unlike the other paper, these circles had what looked under the lens like a mist, or haze between them.

He pushed away from the workstation, heart pounding with excitement. The lens can’t see the structures connecting magic effects together, but I can feel them when I connect to an enchanted object. I might be the only person who can replicate complex enchantments.

He rubbed his hands together, grinning. “Now, let’s see if I can modify them…”

-=-<^>-=-

Some time later

Tarrus considered his work and frowned. I’m happy that I managed to do all this… But what am I supposed to do with any of these?

In his attempts to modify complex enchantments, all he’d managed to do was change what kinds of connections they used, and he still had to copy those as well. With the limited number of magic effects and connectors he knew, the results had been somewhat lacking. He’d succeeded in making more paper self-combust. It turned out that converting unaligned mana to fire mana and refusing to expel it made the enchanted object hotter. If it was combustible… it still combusted.

He picked up one of the thin strips of metal he’d had the foresight to bring. Fire magic was much easier to use in a metal implement. Turning it around in his hands, he rubbed his thumb against the blackened metal.

“Now, if I could just control where the released mana went, I might have a promising weapon…” he muttered to himself.

Sighing, he packed his belongings. “Research for next time, then.”

-=-<^>-=-

The next morning

At home, Mark Tabass set his new mineral find on his display shelf. A beautiful combined specimen of azurite and malachite, it added a welcome splash of color. With the mineral added to his collection, he marked where he found it on his map.

“Hmm… There’s a fair bit of copper around here. If it weren’t for all the monsters, the town would probably have a steady mining operation.” Hand on his chin, he considered the map. Taking a step back, he bumped into his sons’ collection bin, knocking it a little off balance before he could grab it and steady it.

“Phew! Close one.” He glanced in the bin, not sure what his son had been putting in it, if anything. He’d seemed a little dismissive of the idea when Mark had told him “Everyone should have one!”, but what else can you expect from a kid?

But, lo! The bin was full of scraps of paper and small metal sheets.

“Well… Everyone has to start somewhere.” Mark chuckled, turning a few of the objects around in his hand. And then, suddenly, it hit him. That old spark he’d feel.

“Uh, honey?” He called out, “Can you come in here? I’m feeling lucky.”

She called back from her office upstairs, laughing. “Feeling lucky, huh? Aren’t I the one who decides when you’re lucky?”

“No, honey. I’m feeling lucky.”

Astrid thudded downstairs, levity gone, with a predatory look in her eyes. “What is it? Where? How can we sell it?”