When the ladder was once again able to bear weight, Kylie rushed out of the cottage and back into her own home. Her own cottage was only slightly bigger than Gram’s, it had two extra rooms. One of the rooms was her own bedroom, and the second was the study. A mage’s study would normally be quite cramped with all of the books and magical objects that they would hoard throughout their life, it was one of the main reasons that they were stereotypically depicted as living in towers. Typically most mage towers housed many mages each working within the same school. This helped them pool their knowledge and work on larger projects. In Kylie’s case she had multiple certifications and had joined multiple schools. She had forgone living in a tower following in her parents' footsteps, like her own children had followed in hers.

A desk sat in the room. A small stand had been draped with a handful of medallions each shaped into arcane symbols. Some glowed dimly, while others seemed to twist the reality surrounding them. Bookshelves with doors that slid shut to cover each individual shelf lined her walls. The shelves were each built with varying sizes. There was no standard for book sizes, and each shelf seemed to be built to accommodate that. There were no standards for book writing in the magical circles. Wizards were the worst offenders. As they had no formal training and tended to only write notes for themselves, it was always an adventure deciphering their work. A large chest sat to the left of her desk, holding many of the scrolls that Kylie had the pleasure of working with.

Kylie placed the book the heart of the city had given her gently on the desk. Black blocky letters of an unknown script were marked on the front. If they were painted, the scribe must have had an uncommonly steady hand. She had seen writing this precise before, but that was the product of magic. Well, this book was a product of magic too. The hard cover was glossy, made out of some paper covered in a thin film. It was quite smooth, and Kylie ran her hand across its surface, wondering about the material. The cover overlapped the paper inside with some margin. She ran her finger along the paper between both sides of the cover. It was uniform, to the point of being smooth. She raised her eyebrows with that discovery. In all her days she had never seen a book that had been this well produced. She wanted to open it straight away to check how it was bound. The years she spent chasing down sorcerers and hostile wizards had taught her not to open a book without preparation.

She hadn’t noticed any magic emanating from the book beyond the residuals left by the creation from the heart of the city. With time the residuals began to fade. She first cast Identify. It hadn’t revealed anything beyond what she already knew, but the information might give her some additional insight. However, it didn’t reveal a thing. All she could tell is that it was a high quality book. She cast Discovery soon after. This spell dove deeper into the book, looking for any hidden attributes or any unknown mana. It was a spell of her own creation. She had a third spell which she called Knowledge. It was a far harsher form of the identify and discovery spells, but unlike them, the spell would typically destroy any magical enchantment or effect allowing Kylie to create a copy. Her Discovery spell revealed nothing. It was just a simple book. Kylie felt a little disappointed to see such a high quality book not contain any spell work to protect the secrets within. It felt like a waste.

With a sigh she cracked open the book. The binding hadn’t been anything spectacular. Each page appeared to be glued along the spine. She had seen it before. She thumbed through the book quickly, just scanning the pages. There were two types of writing in this book. The first page contained a block of text similar to what was on the cover, each letter seemed to be precisely written. The pages that followed contained what appeared to be written in a different script, lazily scrawled on the pages. There were crudely drawn animals, plants and faces scattered throughout the writing. As she progressed through the book, the writing seemed to get more precise and the drawings and diagrams appeared to be more skilled. She could tell by some of the drawings that this had originated from a city. Kylie had a good idea of which city it was. How significant was this book?

She slid the door open on one of her shelves. She didn’t have many reference books for language. She looked at each cover carefully, but unsatisfied, she slid the door closed once more. She looked at each of her covered shelves. There wouldn’t be a single book that would work. Any of the books she had on history only detailed the area. Most of her non-magical resources were probably back in Aelston. She sighed and sat back in her chair. She never really considered herself an expert. She reached into a drawer on her desk and pulled out a small quartz crystal. The crystal was transparent except for the white flaws that crisscrossed the interior. It was fixed to a metal plate, with two small notches, indicating the front.

“Harte” Kylie said.

—

Harte sat on the bench eating some soup. His long gray beard rested on his lap. He had contemplated shaving it off or at least trimming it down. It was quite bothersome. Getting hair in his mouth was a common occurrence. He often contemplated devising a spell to keep his mouth free from the stray hairs, but each attempt was met with varying results. Regardless, he kept his beard long. There was an image wizards needed. He even had the pointy hat. He slurped his spoon. The soup wasn’t anything spectacular, but the owner owed him and free food was free food. Harte wasn’t picky. A cracking sound came from his robe.

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“Oh!” said Harte.

He put the spoon back into the soup, leaning it on the rim of the bowl. The crackling sound continued as he fished into his pockets. Harte had always filled his pockets with a number of useful items, he had even found storing items in his sleeve had been quite useful. You never knew when you needed an extra wand, focus or even some parchment with ink. He continued to fumble around trying to find his crystal. It hadn’t been something he needed often, but having it certainly helped him keep in touch with the wealthier clients. He fished it out. A string wound itself around the base. Harte worked to undo the string. The crystal continued to make a crackling sound while it pulsed with a faint white light. With the string undone he stuffed the end back into his pocket and turned the crystal so the notches were oriented towards him.

“This is Harte speaking!” he smiled.

“Hello, old friend, remember me?”

Harte squinted while looking at the picture that projected on the inside of the crystal. The white hair threw him off, but he recognized the face. It hadn’t changed much.

“Kylie!” He laughed and slapped his hand on the table.

The spoon clattered on the edge of the bowl and then started to slide into the soup. The movement of the spoon sinking caught his attention and he frowned as it slipped into the depths of the mediocre soup. Harte reached with his hand to fish the spoon out, but then he reconsidered and looked back at the crystal. Kylie had seen the troubled expression cross Harte’s face, and mirrored it with her own.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” she asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” He said, “It was just my spoon…”

“Your spoon?”

“Yeah, I just lost it. I’m probably going to have to get another.”

“I see,” Kylie replied.

“So, how can I help?” Harte asked.

Kylie panned the picture down, showing the cover of the book and the strange writing inside.

“Are we private?” she asked.

Harte looked around. The inn was pretty busy, but no one seemed to be paying any serious attention. There were a few glances at his crystal, but that was more from the novelty of the object than anything. He felt he would rather be more safe than sorry, however.

“Can you wait twenty minutes or so?” He asked. “I’ll have to get to the workshop.”

Kylie agreed and then ended the connection. Harte picked up the bowl, and slurped down the remainder of his soup. When he was finished he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He chanted a few words and the wet spot was dried and cleaned. Harte did a dignified jog back to his workshop. Wizards never ran. He had a few minutes left to spare, Harte spent them brushing his beard. Satisfied he pulled out the crystal from his pocket. This time, the offending string decided it was better to stay in the pocket. He looked around and found a stool, then took a seat.

“Kylie” Harte said.

It took a moment for her picture to resolve in the crystal. She appeared to be sitting in the same room before.

“What’s that book?” Harte asked.

“It’s for a quest I received.” She stated, “I need to have it translated.”

Even though it was his own workshop Harte looked around suspiciously. He licked his lips before speaking.

“From activating the shard?”

Kylie shook her head. A faint smile played on her lips.

“It failed.”

The words were like a sword straight to his stomach. If he hadn’t already seated himself, he would have needed to find one. The whole reason for his becoming a wizard was because of her quest. The truths he found while studying as an apprentice all seemed to back up what Kylie had known all along. She never said where she got it, and his own curiosity had been the driving force. She was still the spark. The drive she had to push through as many schools as she could have served as an inspiration for him. She had told him about her family and the heart fragment she carried. The fact she held an inactive fragment had been something that bothered him. Even the smallest fragments still seemed to stay active. The questions that it raised spurred Harte along his path, leaving the mage schools and working on independent studies as a wizard. How could her quest have failed? It was only to activate the shard. His brows knit as he thought. Kylie let him mull things over until he replied.

“What do you mean it failed?”

“My grandson, he’s the one that completed it,” she paused a moment, “He’s a king now.”

“A king? What does that mean?”

“I can't very well explain it. How about I tell you all about it when you come help me translate this book?”

“I’ll need a moment. This is pretty sudden.”

Harte knew he didn’t have any current clients, and that the workshop could look after itself for a while. He maintained a good relationship with the guilds. If anything were to happen to his workshop, they would investigate. Besides, it wasn’t wise to break into a wizard’s workshop in the first place.

“Can I bring some mutual friends?”

“Just as long as they’re trustworthy.”

They chatted about their lives, just reconnecting as old friends. Harte made plans to visit her village. It turned out that she hadn’t strayed too far from the city as he had thought. She had still wound up in the middle of nowhere. It was a two weeks trip by his own estimate to get to her village. He’d have to get some affairs in order before he left, but that wouldn’t be too much trouble. He did want to bring some companions along considering how far they needed to travel. Even with a vast array of spells that he could call upon, bandits, wild animals and rogue monsters would still pose a threat if he was caught off guard. He spent a week preparing to travel. He personally greeted his companions at the start, each had agreed readily. They were excited about the prospect that Kylie would once again make waves. Harte didn’t agree with that. She seemed to be comfortable being in a supporting role for her grandson. If anything, he seemed to be the one to watch.