Rikel drew her sword. “What does my sword have to do with anything?” she asked in confusion.
Bewr shook her head. “It’s not the sword, itself, that I need; it’s the blood of the poacher you killed that was on it,” she clarified.
Lelwyn took Rikel’s sword and started examining it. “Utilizing the blood drawn in a mortal wound allows the tracking of the remains left behind. Normally, this being useful is rare,” he admitted. “Though, this would be far easier if Telina were here; there’s a Summoning component to the ritual,” he added.
Rikel nodded. “It’s getting late anyway. We should make camp so you work your magics,” she suggested.
Kirel cleared his throat. “What about the cottage that’s right here?” he asked. “It’d be much easier to secure than a campsite. Not to mention that it’d be lot more comfortable to sleep in than a flimsy tent,” he complained.
Bewr shook her head. “It could easily be cursed,” she countered. “I think it would be best to make camp somewhere else. Also...” she trailed off motioning her head towards Jolen.
With that, the group traveled a few minutes away from the cottage and set up camp. After setting up their protection spells, Lelwyn conjured a meal and handed it out to everybody.
Bewr turned to Jolen. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “It’s conjured food so no actual animals were harmed or plants destroyed to make it,” she explained.
Jolen took some of the food. “How did you know about that custom?” he asked.
Kirel made a face as he took a bite of the conjured meal. “Your sister told us about it the first time we gave her conjured food,” he explained.
Lelwyn nodded. “Aye,” he agreed. “She refused to eat until assured that nothing had to die for her meal,” he added.
After eating, Lelwyn and Bewr worked with the sword while Kirel started analyzing the Rune Matrix on the dagger that Jolen found.
Rikel, in boredom, started walking around the camp. When she reached Jolen’s tent, she heard crying from within. “Jolen, may I come in?” she asked.
“If you must,” he sighed in resignation.
Rikel entered the tent and discovered Jolen hugging his arms and crying. Jolen looked up. “The cottage is where my sister died, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she admitted. “She got to the door before the rest of us and was shot through the throat by a crossbow bolt.”
Jolen chuckled ruefully. “That was my sister; rushing in without thinking.”
Rikel sat down next to Jolen and put her arm around him, letting him cry into her shoulder. “I opposed her going to the academy, you know. Our argument about that was the last conversation we ever had. I never even got to apologize to her!” he sobbed.
Rikel lifted Jolen’s face by his chin. “Look at me, Jolen.” Once he did, she continued. “From just your letter about your home, she came rushing back to help. She wouldn’t have done that if she hadn’t forgiven you. From the little I knew of her, I’m sure she forgave you long ago. She didn’t act like the kind to hold grudges.”
Jolen smiled sadly. “You’re right, she never did hold a grudge for longer than a day or two,” he agreed.
Rikel smiled. “I thought not. Would you mind telling me about when she was younger? Other than the rat in the attic and being bullied, she didn’t speak much of her life at home in Midway,” she added.
Jolen nodded. “The night that she saw that rat was when we found out that she had magic,” he began. “Father was so proud to have a Mage in the family. Mother was furious that a mere ‘half-human’ could wield that kind of power. Did she tell you why she went up into the attic in the first place?” he changed the topic suddenly.
Rikel shook her head. “No, she didn’t,” she admitted.
“I stole her favorite quill and was hiding from her. When I did things like that, the attic is one of the places I’d hide.” At Rikel’s glare he continued. “She would often do the same to me; it was a game we played in good fun. She even left Midway with my favorite jerkin,” he added.
“It sounds like to two of you were very close.”
Jolen nodded. “The two of us were the only children in our family; father never had any others.”
Rikel yawned, causing Jolen to laugh. “It is late,” he admitted. “I’m feeling better now. Thank you. We should probably get some sleep before heading out in the morning.”
Rikel nodded, standing up. “If you need to talk again...”
“I’ll let you know,” Jolen interrupted.
As Rikel returned to her tent, Bewr stopped her and returned her sword. “We’ve finished the spell,” Bewr informed her. “Lelwyn wants us to leave at first light.”
Rikel nodded in agreement and went to sleep.
As the group finished their conjured breakfast the next morning, Rikel addressed the group. “Now that we have a specific direction to travel in, I take back what I said about separating the group; it’d be safer for us to travel together.”
The group agreed and started breaking their camp. Once finished, Bewr walked up to Jolen. “We figured out what the dagger does; it has the standard sharpness and durability enchantments but, more interestingly, it will teleport back to its wielder upon command. We’re going to need a drop of your blood,” she announced out of the blue.
Jolen raised his eyebrow in intrigue. “Why?” he asked out of curiosity more than suspicion.
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Bewr raised her hands. “We only need it so we can tune it to you,” she explained.
Rikel, overhearing the conversation, chimed in. “What does it mean to tune something, anyway?” she asked.
Bewr got onto the cart before answering. “Normally, using a magic item draws upon the magic of the Mage using it. Tuning an item means that that item can also be used by somebody who doesn’t have magic. Once an item is tuned to somebody, they, or somebody who shares their blood, can use it as though they were a Mage. If I tune that dagger to Jolen, he’ll be able to use its magic. His children probably could, too. His grandchildren may or may not be able to,” she explained.
Jolen shrugged his shoulders while getting on the cart himself. “What do you need me to do?” he asked.
Bewr laughed. We’ll just need a drop of your blood when we make camp tonight. The three of us will take care of the rest from there,” she explained.
Lelwyn and Kirel got on the cart as well while Rikel mounted her horse. “So, how does this work?” she asked.
Bewr blushed. “I was supposed to explain this last night! I forgot, sorry,” she apologized. “Hold your sword out, even with the ground. The sword should pull towards the body of the poacher. The closer we are, the stronger the pull should get,” she explained quickly.
Rikel drew her sword and held it aloft. When the sword ended up pointing mostly southward, she sheathed it again. “South it is,” she commented.
The group started traveling in the direction indicated by the sword. While they traveled, Jolen walked up to Rikel while she rode her horse. “So, I can understand why the mages would come along on this journey, but why would a knight care?”
Rikel smiled back. “I’m retired, actually. And, to be honest, I just needed the money.”
Jolen looked at her in confusion. “I thought knights got decent retirement pay.”
Rikel nodded. “For basic living expenses, yes, I get enough. It’s just, well, there’s this sword I wanted to buy in the Adventurer’s District in Elrlith,” she admitted sheepishly.
Bewr, overhearing the exchange, piped in. “What sword were you looking at? We may be able to make one like it,” she explained.
Rikel shouted back, “oh, it was called...”
“What it’s called doesn’t matter,” Bewr interrupted. “What was it supposed to do?”
“It had the ability to switch back and forth between being a sword and being a spear,” Rikel explained.
Bewr turned to the other two mages. “Sounds like a pretty straight-forward triggering transmutation. That should take us, what, two, maybe three, nights?” she asked. The other two did some quick thinking and then nodded in agreement.
Rikel almost fell off of her horse. “That sword cost enough for ten of these trips! The three of you can just make one in a few nights?” she demanded.
Kirel laughed. “We’d have to tune it to you,” he explained. At Rikel’s confused look, he continued. “The sword you wanted to buy is so expensive because it was made to be genral; a general item can be used by anyone instead of just a specific bloodline. Making an item that can only be used by a tuned bloodline is actually a lot easier than making a generic one. Though, not quite as easy as making one that draws on the wielder’s magic,” he admitted.
Rikel calmed back down. “I take it you’d need a drop of my blood tonight as well then,” she surmised.
Bewr shook her head. “We’d have to get the Rune Matrix worked out first. Tuning an item, when needed, is the last step. We won’t need your blood for at least two nights.”
Rikel chuckled. “Perfect timing; I’ll easily be able to give you some blood about that time.”
Bewr looked at Rikel in confusion. “What changes in a few nights?” she asked.
Rikel tried to hide a smirk. “You’ve been spending far too much time among men if you have to ask that question, Bewr. Think about it,” she laughed.
As the three mages figured out Rikel’s meaning, Bewr looked at her in sympathy while Lelwyn and Kirel started blushing and looked at the ground.
Jolen roared with laughter. “Why are human men so squeamish about that?” He asked. “While I won’t claim I’ve encountered men of every other race, of those I have, none treated this as such a taboo subject,” he added between laughs.
Bewr shrugged her shoulders. “I wish I knew the answer to that myself. As you can tell, even mages act this way.” She then turned to Rikel. “Oh, when the time comes, Lelwyn has a spell that can help you with your cramps.”
Lelwyn’s blush deepened. “Aye,” he agreed. “I shall, of course, cast that spell as required to ease your discomfort.”
“Where were you during my twelfth Hunting season?” Rikel asked rhetorically. Bewr laughed and held her sides.
Jolen stopped laughing. “Rikel, do you happen to have a bow with you?” he asked conversationally.
Rikel raised an eyebrow at Jolen. “What’s this, an Elf who doesn’t carry a bow with them?” she joked. When she saw the serious look in Jolen’s eyes, she stopped laughing and answered. “No, I don’t. Why do you ask?”
Instead of answering, Jolen bent down and picked up a stone off the ground. He quickly spun around and threw the stone up into a tree above them. A moment later, a bird’s skeleton fell to the ground and startled the rest of the group.
Lelwyn got off of the cart and examined the bird. “This poor avian has been defiled by a curse of the most foul necromancy. Bewr!” he shouted. “Assist me that we may remove the curse!”
Bewr jumped off of the cart so she and Lelwyn could get to work on the bird while Rikel and Jolen scanned the trees for further potential threats. Soon, the bird’s bones had turned to dust. Lelwyn breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Jolen. “You have a sharp eye indeed, my friend! Looking straight at it, I merely saw naught but a normal bird.”
Rikel nodded her head. “That was probably the point. Can you tell what it was for?” she asked.
Bewr smiled. “We lucked out, she announced. “It looks like this was just supposed to be a scout. Now that we’ve dismissed this curse, it won’t be able to report back. Until it’s noticed missing, we should still be safe.”
Jolen hopped back onto the cart. “Then we should get going again. Time appears to be against us,” he pointed out.
The group made way again and traveled until nightfall. After the group made camp for the evening, Bewr tuned the dagger for Jolen while Lelwyn and Kirel started the Rune Matrix calculations for Rikel’s weapon.
Once Bewr was finished, she handed the dagger to Jolen. “Here, try it!” she smiled.
Jolen took the dagger and threw it at a nearby tree, embedding it to the hilt. Jolen let out a low whistle. “I aimed for the dagger to bounce of the bark,” he explained as he held out his hand. A moment later, the dagger disappeared from the tree and reappeared in his hand. “This will definitely come in handy!” he laughed.
While Jolen sheathed his new dagger, Bewr’s stomach rumbled audibly. “Tuning does work up a bit of an apatite,” she excused. “How about we eat?” she suggested urgently.
Jolen nodded and the two of them returned to the others. Bewr grabbed some food, sat down, and started devouring the conjured food.
Rikel laughed at the display as she started eating. “In all my time as a knight in the army, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody tear into conjured food like that! You act like you haven’t eaten in days,” she observed.
Kirel stopped eating for a moment and answered for Bewr. “That’s because casting a spell with this complexity and power works up an incredible apatite.” he explained while Bewr practically inhaled her food.
Bewr paused eating. “Like you’re one to talk,” she accused him. “Remember how much you and Lelwyn ate the morning after,” she blushed and trailed off, “you both took those grueling exams your last year at the Academy,” she finished while looking at Jolen and Rikel.
Lelwyn loudly sighed. “What Bewr was trying not to discuss was a rather embarrassing event from our youths that we shall not be relating this evening,” he explained. Rikel raised her eyebrow in response but said nothing.
Jolen pouted. “That sounds like a great story!” he observed. “Can you tell us after this mission?”
Lelwyn smiled. “Perhaps,” he answered enigmatically.
The group laughed and finished the rest of their meal quietly before going to bed.
The group woke up the next morning to another light snow. Lelwyn sighed and conjured another meal for breakfast.
As the group started breaking up their camp after eating, Jolen stretched and subtly motioned everybody over to him. Once the others gathered around him, he looked at Lelwyn. “We’re being watched,” he warned the others.