Saul was left with that new unpleasantness to chew on as he and Junia went to check on Michah. They walked in silence to the sparse room where she was recovering.

“Oh thank god, tell me something interesting,” Michah said as she hobbled out of her chair, tossing a book away with a flourish.

“I’m secretly an old man?” Saul offered.

“Uh huh—hup!” she tried to cross her arms, almost lost her balance, and had to grab the foot of the bed.

“How is your leg?” Junia asked, looking at her foot. It was back, but looked a bit short in the stocking.

“I’ve got everything but my toes,” Michah said, “I’m learning how important toes are for balance.”

“How long until they finish?” Saul asked.

“I’m getting my big toe in half an hour, and the rest three hours after that.”

“Can you leave after that or is there a waiting period?”

“They said I’m adapting to the regrown parts unusually quickly. I’ve been using that cantrip you found me, Suffuse, to get feeling back faster. I’ll probably be good not too long after the toes are back.”

“Three hours is a bit long for us to wait,” Junia said, “Michah, how about Saul and I visit until the priest comes in half an hour, then we’ll be at the library. We’ll come back in three and a half hours to allow some extra time.”

“Fair enough,” Michah agreed, and Saul nodded.

They ate with Michah, then left. In the Scholar’s Library, Saul combed through the small section on cantrips, getting frustrated with the limited options. There really were only two cantrips he could find for the sharp icon. At first the wind icon was the same, but he finally found one called Breath for Toby. He had checked the dwarven book, but the only concise list was focused on the metal icon. He also found a few different instructions for the light and dark cantrips, which he now knew he should be able to learn.

Saul tried to let his mom sit in the chair of his reserved reading nook, but she insisted he take it. Her body was far past regular back pain.

“Do you think I really shouldn’t use cantrips?” he asked, tapping one of the scrolls, “I was looking forward to giving some that I’ve failed to learn in the past another try.”

“You’re an adult, Saul,” Junia said, settling onto the ottoman, “if you don’t want to follow the healer’s advice, that’s your decision.”

“Mom,” he sighed, recognizing her ‘let-them-make-their-mistakes’ tone.

“If you’re asking for my opinion, then I think you should consider what you’ll need to use your soul for and what you want to use it for.”

“So you think I shouldn’t use cantrips because I’ll be regularly using at least one artifact on my trip.”

“According to the healer, your soul looked much older than you are. Was that because of the last year of using cantrips and your tattoo? Or was it pushing yourself to use the Mark? The next month or so you will be semi-constantly exerting yourself to use that mail if nothing else, which could exacerbate either cause.”

“I guess I can try to avoid using cantrips for a month,” he sighed again, “I’ll still take copies of some of these, for the trip back home.”

“Good plan.”

“So, Mom, about your soul?”

“The healer as much as confirmed what I already suspected,” Junia rested her chin on her palm, “I’ve talked to the matriarch as well. Whatever it is that a person needs to have to use an immortal icon, I seem to have. Some kind of connection or insight is how Gussy put it.”

“That’s amazing Mom. Even if you can’t get one, we know you’re every bit the equal of the Marchioness if not better.”

“Thank you, son.”

They sat for a moment, the silence of the library pressing in. Saul pulled out some vellum to copy cantrip instructions onto. A few different motions and visuals for reference would help him and Toby figure out the way they personally resonated with each power. He was interrupted by muffled footsteps as Sister Young approached, pausing uncertainly when she saw his mother sitting across from him.

“Good afternoon, Viscountess,” she said with a bow.

“Sister.” Junia gave her a nod.

“Did you learn more from those journals?” Saul asked a bit awkwardly, trying to help.

“Well, I’ve actually been reading about daemon behavior and ecology,” she explained, standing just outside the nook and somewhat obstructing the aisle.“I also have the information about the ability you asked about yesterday.”

“Here, Saul,” Junia said, standing, “go ahead and catch up with your friend. I’ll be over there.”

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She stepped past the much shorter woman and sat in a chair within line of sight between two sections. Sister Young took the ottoman after a momentary pause.

“Why is your mother here with you?” she asked, “You didn’t come yesterday, did something happen?”

“I did stop by briefly, but I was busy. I’m getting ready to take a trip, and I went to see my sister. She’s in the Healer’s Clinic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what happened?”

“My sisters were attacked while they were on a duty. Michah lost a leg.”

“Oh my lord! That’s horrible. How is she?”

“She’ll be out in another two hours.”

“How long until she’s back on two feet?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, “Her leg is almost back. The healer just needs to finish restoring her toes. She’ll be done in two hours like I said.”

“Right, your family…it usually takes longer, nevermind.”

“So, you said something about daemon behavior?”

“Yes, but first, there was a record of an ability like what you described. It’s called Buffer.”

“Ah. I was going to call it Waterlog, but I can see it.”

“The ability usually results from a pairing from blunt, water, and/or wind. Using a water fragment to upgrade it may result in the area becoming even more water-like, allowing swimming and such.”

“The ability is one of my servant’s, but that is good to know.”

“Anyway, so about daemons,” she said more enthusiastically, “that ecourgist and I have been sidetracked collating information about daemon behavior for the past couple days. You were right about there being other observations of daemons acting in different ways. There’s no single text about it, not here at least, and we’re thinking about writing something.”

“Good for you, I’d be glad to read it if you want another pair of eyes. What have you found? I remember something about a squirrel daemon taking care of a swamp.”

“It seems like daemon behavior is all over the place,” she explained, “right up until they notice a person or some creatures, then they all become single-mindedly aggressive. If there isn’t anyone around—and they are very, very good at sensing people—they act in all kinds of ways. Often along the lines of an animal they resemble, but not necessarily. There are a few mentions of them not being aggressive towards children, but it’s not consistent. There was also a pattern of daemons making nests and lairs in old temples.”

“That at least makes sense.”

“Yeah, I think we’ll try to use the behavior that we understand as a lens to analyze the rest. Perhaps their behavior is shaped by the body they inhabit, until they encounter something that echoes the divine.”

“I look forward to hearing more about it,” Saul said, “I’m sure you’ll have made a lot of progress by the time I get back. I’ll be on a trip for the next couple months. I was hoping you might be able to tell me a bit about the area I’ll be traveling through.”

He described the destination and goal.

“That’s pretty deep in Elven territory,” Young mused, “Do you speak any of their languages? Once you get in far enough they won’t have much in the way of accommodation for humans.”

“I know some of their ‘human trading dialect’, and I’ll have something to help. I’m aware of their insular community structure. I’ve read plenty about elves themselves, I mean more about the environment.”

“It isn’t like the climate will suddenly change just because it isn’t part of this kingdom. They tend to build in particularly low or high areas with relatively minimal alteration of the features of the landscape. Communities usually maintain roads between one another, but skirt forests and such.”

She stopped to think for a moment, furrowing her brow slightly. It was one of only a handful of occasions that Saul was pretty sure she was using an ability, presumably some sort of internal recollection.

“…actually, depending on the route you end up taking, there might be something to watch out for when you get further north,” she added, “you’ll be getting into a mid-upper mist region, which is around the minimum for a hostile forest.”

“That doesn’t sound wildly positive. What are they?”

“We don’t have that many details. They don’t show up out here, and there aren’t any in the kingdom anyway. They were all destroyed. The elves tolerate them for some reason, so they might know more. You have to stay away from a hostile forest because it will actively try to harm you if you trespass. I don’t mean the simple aggression of a daemon either, the animals and plants will work together to corral you, wear you down, and kill you.”

“Good to know,” Saul said as he made a note, “this is exactly why I asked you, it’s not really my specialty. Are they always forests?”

“As far as I’m aware.”

“If you want, I can see if I can learn anything about them from the elves if I pass near one.”

“That would be nice. Ask about subterranean elf communities as well, if you can.”

“Sure.”

They talked a bit longer, then she returned to her research. Saul finished writing down cantrip instructions, then started skimming through the shelves making a list of books and records he hadn’t read that looked interesting. He would make a moderate donation and have copies of them all made for his trip.

After retrieving Michah, they ate at a nice restaurant adjacent to the temple district over Saul’s mild protest. In the sitting room that night, he finished his supply plans and put them to his father. They were mostly approved, but for one thing he had overlooked.

“Are you planning to absorb the icons in a barrel?” Joel asked with a smirk.

“Oh, damn it.” Saul looked at his list and rough sketch of how to pack the portable hole, “can I put the immersion chamber vertically in the hole?”

“It can support its own weight, but you’d need to secure it somehow.”

He was forced to do some revising of the already sketchy drawing. The rearranging would increase the required layers of supplies from three to four, just above the eleven foot lip of the portable hole. Saul didn’t want to reduce his book allotment, but had an idea for cutting down the space needed for water. Neither of his parents remembered precisely which purifying ability Toby had, so he would need to check tomorrow.

When he went to get ready for bed, he faced an unpleasant memory as he stood in the door to his dark rooms. His mother’s voice in his head won over his impatience, and he called for a servant. Slightly self-conscious, he explained to her the healer’s diagnosis and that he would need a servant to operate his rooms for the next few days.

She turned on the lights for him and ran a bath, then went to retrieve a night light while Saul bathed. He would need to keep it covered beside his bed in order to see if he had to get up for some reason. When he was ready, the servant sealed him in his sleeping chamber. He felt like a kid again, though he was at least allowed to keep a book to read before bed. Holding up the night light to read the pages was more annoying than he remembered it being when he had snuck one in as a child.