Ensuring he found a suitable spot to ‘change,’ Luke returned to his normal appearance, the illusion mask resting within his inventory.

Upon entering the Defier’s branch, he found himself aghast, past the warded black arch entrance; Annika tackled him to the ground and dragged him off for ‘instructing’ as she put it.

When the poor Reaver tried to make excuses, Annika lightly reminded him that he’d failed to attend recent lessons. And that someone had seen her in the nude. As for pointing out Annika invaded his bed, the woman conveniently ignored any such justifications.

Thus, a helpless Luke now stood in front of the enchanters’ forge, practicing Rune Etchings yet again. Grumbling for the first few minutes, Luke eased into the work, accepting that the skill would prove useful eventually. Who needed sleep anyway? Surely not him.

Using up the three practice common items, they disintegrated after Luke etched one too many Runes onto the three objects. But they served their purpose, allowing him to understand the feel and rudimentary possibilities of Runic Enchanting.

Annika swished and twirled Cedric around, “Come on Lukey, those etchings won’t serve those pesky nobles and bigwigs anytime soon.” The female Defier paused, inspecting Luke’s work, “Interesting, how’d you improve this much without my lessons? You didn’t cheat on me again, did you!” Annika pointed at Luke in accusation.

“I cheated on you with complete pride and intention, Annika. With my trusty pal Way—“

Annika stepped back three times, gasping, “After all we’ve been through? How could you do this to me? The cost is going to be three vials of your heart blood!”

What a troublesome woman. I get she’s developed trauma and oddities, but isn’t that true for all the Defiers I’ve met? Enough with the gloves on approach to her.

Pausing on pouring Essence into runes, Luke deadened his expression, locking his eyes on Annika’s, “Annika, we’ve eight days. Allowing your antics to hinder my progress is foolish. Teach me, or leave.”

Laying an arm over her forehead, Annika leaned back in fake fright and dismay, “Students these days, the disrespect. What of our budding love?”

Cedric spoke from behind Annika’s back, “Madam Annika, perhaps your colleague, Luke, is merely trying to focus on growth before the Tides? How would you conduct your trials and research if he dies? Sir Aloysius now refuses all attempts at you studying him, need I remind you, my lady?”

Putting arms to her sides, Annika tried to twirl around to lay her wrath at Cedric next, failing spectacularly due to his being attached to her back, “Stop running from me, Cedric. I told you not to bring that sore spot up again!”

“Lady Annika, I have remained by your side as always. This servant can only go in which direction you allow. I would not dare to run.”

Exhausting herself in the fruitless attempt, Annika finally became somewhat reasonable, “Luke, what are the known limits to Runic Enchanting. Don’t tell me you’ve been slacking on your lovely teacher, Annika’s study assignments?”

Luke's study time had been slim Between gang-slaughtering, City Lord balancing, dungeon delving, and otherwise. Luckily, he had Polar South to grant incredible insight at an alarming rate. In the realm of gaining professional knowledge and the inner workings to focus, Wayfinder was a pure cheat, no doubt about it. With that foundation, Luke spouted what he learned, “I can etch a single Rune to an item. Etching to the air for ‘spells’ is possible, although their power is a fraction of what a mage can produce. Either creating an item through Runic Enchanting or a similar crafting feat will be required to reach the next tier.”

Annika revealed a giddy expression: “ You’re on track, my best student. The rune limit through etching isn’t as strict on inanimate objects.” The brown haired beauty walked around Luke as an inspector would, “Able to Etch all available runes to tierless Runic Enchanters. Skilled enough to attempt reaching for the next tier. I knew you were special, mastery this fast should be impossible. How did you do it?”

“Wayfinder’s ability Polar South is an incredible way to gain knowledge and to see the essence of things in record time. Whenever I ran into a roadblock or couldn’t understand what to do next, Polar South showed me the way. Doing that for an hour here or there when I found the time and now all these Rune papers are child’s play. In another session or two, I’ll have all thirty three symbols mastered.”

Wayfinder wrapped his chain around Luke’s neck, “The lad was a taskmaster, exhausted this old compass to death, I tell you.” Wayfinder grumbled, “Seeing it reminded me of ancient memories and masters past. With me around a ‘profession’ or the like, won’t be much a challenge to the rascal.”

Xera, feeling challenged as the ‘better artifact’ blurted, “Stop showing off, you shiny compass. Just you wait until I evolve again; master will love me more!” Xera shook in her sheath, “Master? When are you going to figure out how to grow me again? I hate being so stagnant…”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Rather than use his typical ‘brush off’ approach towards Xera, Luke rubbed the Sword-Wand reassuringly, “We’ll figure it out, Xera. There’s no need to compete with Wayfinder, you have your role, and he has his. Remember that we made it out the cave together.”

Sooty butted in, dive-tackling Luke, ruining his concentration and work on the Rune Etching papers. The feisty bird strutted around on the Reaver’s chest, glancing at him after giving a soft coo.

Feeling the connection through Reaver’s Link, Luke formed a soft smile, “You’re as important for everything we’ve accomplished, Sooty. Forgive me for leaving you out lately?”

The crow flapped away, leaving a feeling of as long as you know, behind in the spiritual connection between her and the Reaver. Let off the hook, the Defier shifted his focus back to Annika, “What’s the next step for this enchanting training? And how did you evolve Cedric past rare? He’s very obviously at least one step further than Xera.”

Annika hooded her eyes at Luke, “The price of knowledge is one kiss to the cheek and half an hour of lab examination—“

Cedric very politely coughed, swaying slightly on Annika’s back. The woman Defier sheepishly grinned, “Cedric, just this once? Why must you always be the party ruiner?”

The staff spear lightly steered his master, “Lady Annika, I believe your recent suggestions violate the accord you made with Miss Iona. I dare not say more.”

Annika mumbled to herself, Luke overheard words such as, “One more vial,” “I’m too close to stop,” and “Damn elf girl.” After a harsh argument with herself, Annika hugged Luke, stealing a kiss on his cheek. “There, that was my price. Now, it’s time to get your crafting skills up to the next level. We’re going to force a crafting feat.”

The interest in Annika’s words dissolved Luke’s unease around the girl’s untamed nature, “Force a crafting feat? You can do that?”

Snatching a piece of paper, Annika poured Essence into it, a mark oddly similar to the infinity symbol back on Earth etched itself with her skillful display, “The hardest of the thirty-three Rune’s to master, the melding, or fusion Rune. With my help, we’re going to create an item that suits both your identities, Lukey.”

“I’ll skip the usual how’s and why’s what needs to be done, Annika?” Luke crossed his arms, leaning against the enchanting forge.

Tapping a finger on her chin rhythmically, lust entered the girl’s eyes, directed at Wayfinder this time, “Show me what that other toy of yours can do. With his help, what’s your limit?” Interrupting Luke by putting a finger on his lips, she leaned in, whispering to the Reaver’s ear, “Student…you’ll need some special materials for what your teacher has planned for you. We Defier’s have all the items you need, but you’ve got to trade something of equal value to get it.”

Without a thought, Luke allowed the exceptional quality battle axe, all his current enchanting materials, and leftover uncommon items from his night raids drop to the floor. Being that his lips were still covered, the man remained poised, allowing the items to speak for themselves.

The Runewarden, Annika, released Luke. She controlled multiple runes into the air, having each item float up and over to an attending maid with a rose tint color on her cheeks. Annika winked at the maid, “Catalog and annotate each of these items. They are to go to the storeroom and our collective vault.”

With Annika releasing her concentration, the items fell into a neat pile beside the maid, who began setting to the assignment. Annika hopped and skipped away, both arms out with hands up, “Wait here, your beautiful ball of research potential, I’ll be back with what you need to become a Runic Enchanter of note. Meanwhile, think of what item you need most; that is what you’ll be crafting soon.”

Beginning a meandering walk that shadowed a slow moving golem within the enchanting area, Luke spoke to his companions, “Any idea, you three? Rather, any input?”

Sooty turned her head at Luke quizzically. She sent a roughly intelligible word through Reaver’s Link, weapon. Xera swung side to side within her scabbard, “A shield? Nah, too boring. A fancy new necklace? Ah, I know! Why don’t you upgrade Mr.Silent?”

Wayfinder opened his clasp, “The wand type over there might have a point lad, your black blade’s time is done. The poor bugger can’t manage to keep up with the thresholds you shattered. Replace it, upgrade it, or transform it, the path lies to you, not us.”

Closing his right eye, Luke had the left one focus down to Whispering Edge peacefully resting in its sheath. Words from an unexpected source popped up within, Moreover, the dual-wielding style doesn’t work as well as you think for Reavers.

Widening his eyes, the Reaver stopped in his tracks, “Hey Wayfinder, the statue of the first Reaver outside the guild, what are her weapons?”

“You know that one as well as me, lad a sword and a tome. What’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

Luke withdrew Whispering Edge from its resting place, “You’re going to become the silence to Xera’s noise. My first sword, and now my last tome. I’ve found the path for you that sits right with me.”

“Master, what craziness are you talking about? Swords can’t become tomes!” Xera said self-assuredly.

“That’s what someone with no imagination would think. Xera, you can become a wand at will. Why can’t I make Whispering Edge become part of the tome most suitable to my current needs? Wayfinder, Polar South please, the ‘target’ will be Whispering Edge’s evolution. My first feat.”

“Aye, coming to you, sly taskmaster.”

Insight flooded Luke’s mind. Possible paths opened up, using Runic Enchanting as the tool and Polar South as the means. The only limit left was skill. A bind. A glint entered a madman’s eyes, “Rising West. That’ll make the impossible possible. Wayfinder, you really are worthy. The fool who threw you away probably regretted it for the rest of his life after.”

“Tryin’ to butter me up, eh? I’ll be, lad. That angle might work this time. That bastard’s a sore spot to me gears. Wager the elf is a skeleton somewhere by now. Twist a spin at my newest trick for your enjoyment?”

The Reaver shook his head, “Not yet, Annika needs to return; she might help in the critical moments, and the materials need to be what Polar South showed. The foundation is set. Now, the components must be gathered.”

Luke tapped on Sooty’s talons, “Guide me toward Annika, Sooty. We have some vault picking to do.”

Flying off, Sooty curved down the spiral stone steps, she rattled with pride as Luke followed after her. The Reaver flushed a finger down Whispering Edge’s blade, “Our journey together won’t end here, partner.”