Light emitted from the tips of U’lis’ long fingers. Adria wielded the bone dagger, and the two entered the void of the dining hall. There was a distinct lack of movement of any sort. The sound of footsteps, too, had vanished, but worry didn’t leave Adria. Had someone from outside broken in?

Adria and U’lis reached the steel doors. The crates barricading them hadn’t moved. U’lis clambered over them and tried pulling on the door. It was locked. She turned to Adria and shook her head. Then there was a crash. Adria and U’lis flinched: the human pointed her blade at the darkness while the master chef threw her magic light. It ripped through the darkness and stopped by a toppled chair. Beside it stood a witless. White clothes and gloves. Chef’s hat. It was one of the little green ones from U’lis’ kitchen.

They looked at each other and carefully approached the still goblin. From closer, they could see that its eyes were closed.

“Potatochop?” U’lis uttered.

Adria also recognized the goblin. It was the one who had discovered the cracked bell.

A moment passed, but the witless didn’t reply to its name.

“Goblins can sleepwalk?” Adria asked.

“Here’s your evidence that they can.”

U’lis pushed the magical light and it flowed towards the back corridors of the inn, then laid a hand on the witless and turned it around.

“We’ll get you back--”

The goblin growled and sunk its teeth into U’lis forearm. Adria’s eyes widened. For a minute, she stood frozen while the master chef did everything she could to get the sleeping savage off of her. Returning to her senses, she pushed the witless. It didn’t budge. Not even a centimeter. Now, blood was flowing from U’lis arm and her face wrinkled in agony, and a spell began leaving her lips. Adria didn’t have a choice. Her blade stabbed towards the witless. Then U’lis yelled, and she froze.

“Cut up three buckets’ worth!”

The witless let go of U’lis’ forearm and dashed into the kitchen, mumbling in primitive goblin. Adria held the master chef’s arm and took a look at the terrible bite mark. They could patch the wound up in a couple of minutes, but the thought of how much it hurt made her shiver.

“What was that?” she said, then looked at Martin, who sat on her shoulder. “And why didn’t you do anything?”

“Why didn’t you do anything sooner?” the ghost shot back.

“Shock. I… didn’t expect that.”

“Well, now you get it! Just because ghosts are the ones who scare doesn’t mean we don’t get scared.”

“It’s alright. There’s not all that much you can do to a sleepwalker,” U’lis said. “You can really only say something that’s so deeply ingrained in their brain that it’ll snap them out of it. And that won’t even work if they’re… Wait, could Potatochop be…” she trailed off.

Adria frowned.

“What?”

“No, it couldn’t be. I’m making things up.”

This quick investigation of the sleepwalking witless shot the two with enough adrenaline to keep them up for a few hours. They returned to the kitchen to find the witless passed out in a corner with a potato and a knife in hand.

U’lis dipped a finger in the pot. It had gone cold and she boiled it again. Fetching her bag, Adria took out the grimoire stolen from the Arrowaltz.

“Just in case something terrible happens tomorrow, I want you to have this as a parting gift.”

The master chef’s eyes widened. Slowly, she took the grimoire and began flipping through its black pages. For several minutes, she didn’t utter a single word. U’lis looked back up at Adria. A drop of fear glimmered in her eyes.

“How, in the name of the Twenty Gods, did you get this, Adria?”

“I stole it.”

“From who?! The Liar himself?!”

“One of the Arrowaltz hunters -- I’m sure you’ve heard of them from La’Var’s tales.”

“This… It’s… the Compendium of Titans.” U’lis blinked repeatedly, looking at the grimoire from all sides, sniffing it, checking if it was, in fact, real. “This is worth more than Gothsin and Saint Goblin’s Inn combined. This is more powerful than most of the wizards of the south. And I can have it?”

“Sure.”

U’lis jumped in excitement, putting the book up to her chest. Then, her expression dropped and she sighed.

“Oh, if I just wasn’t born a goblin…”

Adria put a hand on the master chef’s shoulders and by the chin raised her head, and looked her in the eyes.

“Who said a goblin can’t use this grimoire’s power? Who said you can’t become the strongest wizard on the continent?” Adria said. “I was a weak girl in Black Ice Bastion. Someone who couldn’t even handle what she saw. And now look at me. I hunted a wyrm with La’Var, fought spirits, and now I’m about to face the Liar head-on. It doesn’t matter if you’re a human or a goblin. Even a tree can change and do the impossible.”

U’lis wiped a tear from her cheek and pushed Adria’s hand away. She jumped up and began preparing the coffee. Did I… say something wrong? Adria wondered whilst U’lis’ shaking hands finished the drink. U’lis handed Adria the steaming cup and embraced her.

“Thank you.”

The hug lasted a minute and almost suffocated Adria. That's what she got for clearing up years of worries and doubts. And letting the master chef hear what she'd never before.

U'lis let go. Adria gasped for air. Risk of passing out gone, Adria put the cup up to her nose and inhaled the overwhelming aroma. She stared into the midnight drink. This odd concoction typical northerners would never recognize. She took a sip and took a step back. She had expected an earthy bitterness to match the color of the drink. But there was sourness and sweetness on her tongue. Pleasant, of course. Adria threw up a thumb to the satisfaction of the master chef.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The two of them enjoyed their drinks in silence. U’lis put her cup away and scrounged around the kitchen while Adria stared, one eyebrow raised. Finally, something glimmered in the master chef’s hands. She put the find--a pair of glasses--on and delved into the Compendium of Titans.

Adria laughed. I’ve never seen a goblin with glasses, she realized. They look so cute!

U’lis was so engrossed in the grimoire that she didn’t notice.

As Adria drank more of the coffee, more flavors revealed themselves. Her sense of touch strengthened. Her vision cleared, her heartbeat picked up and a newfound energy appeared. This drink was like a potion but without the signature bright colors and the glass bottle.

“I’m not asking for anything in return--this is a gift, after all--but could you teach me something from here?” she asked.

U’lis didn’t respond.

Adria waved and snapped her fingers. U’lis returned to reality. Adria repeated the question, and the master chef nodded.

“I can teach you everything sorcery has to offer -- everything you could possibly want is here.”

“I want to know two things. Firstly, are there any magical ways to use that beast of a spirit?” Adria pointed at Martin.

The ghost grunted. His frustration didn't last long. In a second, he returned to his ghastly matters of toying with knives and making them levitate.

“Spirits are odd. We know more about how sorcery and the Twenty Gods work than we do about those beings. Thankfully, some great sorcerers delved into haunted castles. Some even roamed the aftermaths of battles so we could know more,” U’lis said and flipped to the middle of the Compendium of Titans. Having checked up on a few details, she continued, “Like you already imagine, they exist between life and death. They have qualities and sorcerous abilities of the undead, yet they can’t really use them well, cause… They’re not all here. That’s where spirit magic comes in. By feeding them live beings and imbuing them with your magic, you drag them closer to this world. And widen the pathway for them to use their undead abilities. But you have to be really, really careful. Do too much and you can disconnect them from death, and then… Terrible things--which we don’t fully know of--will happen. Promise you’ll be careful, okay?”

Adria nodded. At the same time, Martin started paying attention to the goblin’s words as well. He dropped the knives. Some clanked and some stabbed into the counters.

“To begin, you need to feel the sorcery in your blood and really connect with it.”

Adria put the cup of coffee away and, taking a deep breath, closed her eyes. Most of the time, she could sense magic faintly flowing somewhere inside.

Now, that faint feeling isn’t enough, she thought. I need the magic to feel like being possessed by a spirit or putting on the Mask of Roguish Disguise. It has to be front and center of my mind.

She began by focusing on her skin and all that she could feel and then moved on to her breathing. After all those things were in tune, she moved on to the sensations inside: the pulsing energy of coffee, the pain of her injuries, and the exhaustion weighing on her. Once those were clear, Adria took one deep breath and locked it in, pushing her attention deeper and deeper inside.

Magic coursed through every molecule of her being, driven by her heart and emotions. It was like a river. And, once the last of the oxygen left her organism, Adria changed the direction the river flowed in, the speed and the strength with which it flowed.

Adria opened her eyes.

“Now, touch Martin’s chest,” U’lis instructed.

Adria obeyed, putting a hand on the spirit.

“Lastly, try to match the flow of your sorcery with his. Try to connect your consciousnesses into one.” U’lis turned the grimoire and pointed at a spell word. “Say these words.”

“Like hunter’s connection,” Adria whispered to herself. The thought made it easier to grasp connecting herself with the spirit and she managed to do so in a minute. She read the magical words aloud, “Oh spirit, thy spark of life shall not be forgotten, but flamed into an inferno and the whispers of thy death shall be hushed!”

Sorcery flowed from Adria into Martin. In thought, she instructed the spirit. Her palm began tu burn. The ghost quivered. His aura brightened. He grew and light beamed out of him, and shadows danced along the walls of the kitchen, and there were whispers inside them. The spirit shifted into a massive amoeba that could no longer fit within the cramped room. This amoeba flowed into the pot of water. The pot grew bright red and the water boiled. Then the spirit shot out of it, bounced around the kitchen and dropped to the floor, returning to his normal shape.

Adria retracted her hand. After wavering a moment, she fell to the ground and heaved.

U’lis knelt beside her, palming her forehead, checking her pulse.

“Don’t overdo it!” the master chef snapped. “That was a very good first try, but it was dangerous. You just learned the spell! And your magic isn’t trained!”

“Well, I thought…” Adria coughed. “If I’m going to do something, I would do it right.”

“Now those are the honorable words of a true knight.” Martin laughed. “Listen, if that was doing it right, you’re going to have to do it more -- that felt good. I didn’t know I had it in me to boil water!”

U’lis stepped away from Adria and looked at the ghost. An… idea came? She snatched the empty cups and prepared another round of drinks, this time embellishing them with berries and spices. Adria nourished herself with the wonderful beverage.

“There’s another thing I need to know,” she said and paused to ask herself: can I tell her this?

This might as well be the last time I’m talking to U’lis. I might die tomorrow. I might return to Black Ice Bastion.

Adria told it all. How she was related to the Liar. How she kept accidentally casting a mysterious spell. How she cast an illusion in the life-or-death encounter with the Arrowaltz. U’lis listened with a blank face and when Adria finished, the master chef said solemnly.

“Abyssian Tales. I can’t teach you anything about it, I can only say that it’s the most powerful form of illusion magic--perhaps even the most powerful form of sorcery. I don’t know more. I’m… Too terrified to know more about it.”

Adria looked U’lis in the eyes and shook her head.

“You know more.”

The master chef bit her lip.

“Weaving lies and wielding magic, you can create immense illusions, permanently change the memories of the people around you to suit your lies and even alter the past.”

“That’s why it’s so powerful and so terrifying?” Adria shuddered. The dots connected. “You can’t trust reality when you’re around someone who uses it and… The magic can change the past too much and destroy the present, right?”

Momentarily, she doubted her reality and questioned the memories she had.

There’s no use in worrying about that now, she thought. But I’ve got to be ready for when The Liar arrives tomorrow.

“Abyssian Tales is written about in this grimoire, but you’re going to have to read and learn about it yourself,” U’lis said, dancing around Adria’s question. “I don’t want to know anything about that damned spell.”

Between captivating paragraphs about Abyssian Tales, Adria and U’lis made conversation. They shared gossip about the town and made each other laugh. But not even the talk and knowledge about some of the world’s most powerful magic could keep the two awake.

***

Adria dreamed of the glorious lobby of Black Ice Bastion, her mother’s eyes of despair and bloody hands dancing in convoluted patterns.

Mother screamed. The woman who had endured the darkest nights and the coldest winters raising Adria by herself now sounded frail and devastated. The scream was not of immense terror or unbearable agony. No, crushing hopelessness birthed the wail.

“And thy blood shall be one,” the words left mother’s lips. The final words -- along with them, life left her body.

There was no last breath, no final glimmer in the eyes. She went away instantly. Forever.

That part of Adria’s life ended then. It was crushed into dust and swept away by the wind, opening a new road of fate.

From countless corridors, down from stairways, guards rushed in. Their steel boots shook the ground.

Adria snapped awake.