Malvorik watched as Weylan carried a crate through the dungeon. Maneuvering along narrow ledges in cramped sewer channels and down ladders and steep staircases. He had paused in the bathing room behind the sewers. Then he’d continued to carry it through the entire dungeon to the new alchemy room near the heart room. He placed it carefully on an empty stone table, stepped back and stretched his aching back. The box began to glow and then dissolved into glittering sparks. Weylan jumped forward and stood ready to catch the contents. Completely unnecessary in Malvoriks opinion since he was obviously able to undo the packaging and padding carefully enough for the complex glass alembic to safely sink to the table.

Weylan nodded and walked towards the exit. The corridor led in one direction back to the underground city of the duskgnomes, in the other... He stopped and looked through the long corridor to the dungeon heart. This corridor was the only place in the entire dungeon from which the heart crystal could be seen. The line of sight went through the room with the boss monster, through the exit to the heart room, directly onto Malvorik. The glowing crystal hovered two meters above a depression in the floor. A figure stepped into his path in the boss room, blocking his view. He had seen the final boss of the dungeon briefly once before when rescuing the duskgnomes, a giant chimera made of a rat and an ogre. This time he wore chainmail, steel arm- and shin guards and two war hammers, one in each hand.

"Of course." He nodded absently and continued to keep an eye on the final boss. "Trulda and I have some ideas for quests we should take on. Quests that..."

"Can I have a chain mail shirt like that?"

The heart crystal flashed in amusement. A lurking strangler, who had been waiting out of sight in the boss room until now, scuttled out on his disproportionately short feet. He carried a visibly heavy sack over his back. He laid it on the floor in front of Weylan and opened it. Then he took out several bundles.

The dungeon crystal flashed brightly:

Weylan accepted the chain mail reverently.

Arm and leg protectors perfectly fitted to him completed the armor. The material was thin enough to be concealed under loose clothing. Weylan put it all on and tried it out. "This is fantastic! Feels like light winter clothing, not armor."

The strangler pulled a smaller bundle out of the sack and unwrapped an amulet. A finger-length crystal in a complex weave of silver wire hung from a leather necklace.

"What can the amulet do then?"

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"What a..."

"Yes, I've already told you several times."

"Correct, for that..."

The heart crystal interrupted him again:

"Exactly."

"What do you mean, why?"

"I'm not following you right now."

Weylan shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. He had been really tired and the explanations were far too theoretical for him.

"How can I consciously access mana? Do you know a feat that I can learn?"

"But I need power now, not in a few years' time."

Weylan looked around nervously. That didn't sound particularly safe. He had no desire to meet one of the moderators. That didn’t end well in any of the bard's stories.

Malvorik had no qualms about this, however, and continued cheerfully:

That didn't sound any safer either. Malvorik quickened his pace as he got more into his subject,

Weylan put the amulet around his neck and tucked it under his clothes. It felt cool, but then a kind of warmth emanated from it. After a few breaths, an almost imperceptible tingling sensation followed, spreading from his chest through his body.

"It's tingling. What should I do now?"

Malvorik drew mana deep from his supply into his mind and pushed it into the mana crystal. The artifact's matrix channeled it further into Weylan's body.

The assassin raised his hands in front of his face and looked at them indecisively. A pattern of blue light became visible under his skin. Mana pulsed through his veins. His body began to feel warm. He threw his head back and laughed: "I can feel it! Magic! I can feel the magic. It permeates me..." He broke off as the heat continued to rise. Irritated, he looked at his veins, which were now starting to shine more brightly. The feeling of comforting warmth turned into uncomfortable heat. Then to pain. "Stop it! Stop!"

Malvorik concentrated on the mana currents in Weylan's body. Tiny explosions of mana appeared wherever his mana streams were blocked or constricted.

Weylan collapsed to his knees and shouted incoherently.

The dungeon crystal was irritated. He went through several methods of analysis. The mana channels were not only cleansed, they ruptured. The living tissue around it was taking noticeable damage. Malvorik concentrated on directing the mana and keeping it on track.

Selvara flew into the room: "What's that noise? Malvorik? What are you doing to him?"

"Complications? You’re killing him! Cancel that!"

Malvorik stopped directing mana to the amulet and was about to start talking to Selvara again when he stumbled. Weylan's cries became higher and louder instead of stopping. Worried, he analyzed the magical currents again. The mana stone was still drawing power and the flow became increasingly stronger.

"You can analyze it later. Direct the magic away from him! He's bleeding from his eyes and ears!"

He ignored Selvara's growing panic and Weylan's screams. The assassin was already lying on the ground, twitching.

Malvorik took a step back in his mind. Why did the amulet work so strongly? The effect was like an inverted hole in a shaken beer keg. He looked at the mana. It had no particular affinity... except his own, of course. A sparkle ran across the surface of the dungeon heart. His equivalent of a human slapping his hand against his forehead. Of course. He had created the mana stone. It was tuned to the frequency of his magic. All magic in his dungeon had the same affinity. The mana level was higher here right next to his heart room than anywhere else. Mana of the same affinity attracted each other. When he used magic to direct the mana flow, the mana he used to do so was also attracted. He only worsened the effect. He finished his attempt to channel mana away from Weylan. His mana channels continued to spark. Flesh withered. Wounds burst open. Blood seeped from every orifice.

The dungeon fairy whizzed away.

The screams died down with a final whimper. Malvorik did not interpret this as a positive sign. He thought about it. There had to be a logical solution... The crystal flashed brightly. That he had only just thought of it...