Jeremy could barely hold the piece of bone in his hand — whatever was pulling it was near.

Was it a form of sentience guiding the bone — or perhaps a resonating principle in the astral? The wizard hoped it was the latter. He believed resonance was an often disregarded feature of magic.

Sure there were shamans and witches who used the blood or hair of their targets as catalysts to perform curses — however, the effect of resonance was largely ignored by the greater magical community.

What was tying a piece of hair to a doll to make someone feel pain — when you can do so directly with a simple spell?

Most mages believed relying on resonance was a crutch — better left to those weaker in magic. Guiding and manipulating the underlying magic within all things seem a bit tedious to someone who can simply take control with a thought and a few words.

Jeremy could feel the resonating magic within the bone. It was being pulled by a prevailing concept limited to the Astral Sea. He was curious to find what was waiting at the end of the line. Hopefully, it wasn’t a skeletal god that held sway over the Astral.

Or maybe it was. He wasn’t sure.

If it was a god, it would be dead.

A dead god of the undead — that was something to think about.

After his encounter with the demons, his journey was relatively uneventful. There were times when he could have crossed paths with one or two solitary figures, but they veered away before he could do the same.

Solitude was better in the Astral — especially if you went in alone. There were just too many dangers in this place — most of them in human guise.

For now, he flies — eager and hesitant to face the unknown.

***

A broken-down cart, a dozen or so restless children, and an anxious young woman — Sebas rarely stopped for anyone, but seeing the situation, how could he not.

The speeding butler slows to a jog, before heading to the road and walking. He tries his best to straighten and dust off his clothes before approaching the cart of children.

“Mistress,” a child points at Sebas, “the strange man is coming.”

“Vaush, don’t say such things,” the woman scolds the child. She turns to Sebas. “Please pardon Vaush, he sometimes says things that are… inappropriate.”

“Children will be children,” Sebas smiles. “It seems you have a situation in your hands.”

“Aye lad,” says a voice from beneath the wagon. “One of the wheels gave out. The cart’s too damned old for roads as rough as this one. Kids jumping about also didn’t help.”

“That’s enough Marduk,” the woman complains, “you know none of my kids were unruly the whole trip.” She sighs. “How long to get it fixed?”

“Without proper tools?” Marduk answers while getting up from underneath the wagon. “It’s better to scrap the whole thing for parts and just ride the donkey to town.”

“I could be of service,” Sebas offers, “if you would allow it.”

“Good,” the wagoner beams. “Have the good lad escort the kids and yourself to town, and let me deal with the cart.”

“That’s another four hours — five for the children,” the woman frowns, her concern for the kids apparent in the way she fidgets in worry for them. “The kids are already exhausted from the trip — isn’t there another way?”

“I could unhitch the donkey and ride it to town,” Marduk offers, “but that’ll take two hours — four if you count the trip back.”

“Again,” Sebas fakes a cough. “I could be of service, if you would allow it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” The woman finally turns to the newcomer. “It’s just — it’ll soon be noon, and the heat would be unbearable for the kids.” She stares at him. “Who are you exactly?”

“A mere shopkeeper, miss — Sebas by name.” He gives a slight bow.

“You seem a bit refined for a shopkeeper,” she mused. “I am Mineva, or just Min.” She ruffles the hair of a kid clinging to her. “I am guardian to these kids.”

The kid clinging to Mineva runs off towards the others, bored as he was with adults talking.

“Aside from my duties as a shopkeeper, I also serve as a butler to my master,” Sebas explains. “I’m also a practitioner of the arts.”

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“Oh, a man of many talents,” Min teases. “And how would you help us get to town? Will you summon a carriage for the kids to ride, or perhaps open a gate into the town itself?”

“A gate would attract too much attention, Miss Min.”

“Yes, it would —wouldn’t it?” she laughs. “An escort it is. Come kids, this friendly man will gladly escort us to town. Time to get walking.”

Groans and complaints follow her statements. Walking for five hours was taxing enough — doing so under the midday sun made it all but impossible.

“You could carry one of the kids if they get exhausted,” Min suggests. “You do know how to carry children, do you?”

“Ferrying children from place to place was one of my earlier duties as a butler.” Sebas takes out a piece of silver from his pockets. “Alev’Disc”

Floating Disc * Compound Ritual * Conjuration * Force

Effects: Creates a floating disc of force that follows the caster as long as it does not run into any obstacles. The disc can be used to carry items, with most variations of the spell created for the express reason of carrying loot. Weight capacity and dimension of the disc are relative to the amount of mana used in crafting the ritual.

Min stares at the ever-growing disc. The magic wasn’t new to her. It was a common one, learned by almost every apprentice she knew — but the magnitude of the spell was simply startling. The force disc was 10-feet in diameter, even bigger than their flimsy cart. She knew it took mana to create the disc as well as maintain it. The disc before her was at least eight or nine times bigger than the usual spell disc — it would be a miracle if it lasted more than ten minutes, what more a trip to town?

“Well,” Sebas looks at the kids, “get climbing.”

The kids scurry towards the floating disc, eyes aglow with wonder. Min frowns at the disc, scenes of children falling from it playing in her mind.

“It has handholds,” Sebas jolts her from her reverie. “Safer than a cart, and a lot more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Min stammers, “Mister Mage.”

“Just Sebas will do, Miss Min.” Sebas insists. “I hardly qualify as a mage — though I am an excellent butler.”

“Then call me Min,” she responds. “The children appreciate your help — a few minutes of rest should give them enough strength to the walk to town.”

“That won’t do Miss Min,” Sebas explains. “I am a butler, and protocols must be maintained. As for your other concern — the disc will hold until we get to town.”

“Then, thank you… Sebas.”

The self-professed butler seemed sincere — and who was she to check a gift horse in the mouth. She climbs the strange disc, sitting on the edge and grabbing a handhold.

“Everyone ready?” Sebas asks. “I’ll go slow at first, to make sure nobody falls off. Try to keep the little ones away from the edge.”

The disc floats at the butler’s side. He wasn’t a beast of burden pulling a wagon — nor were the children objects to be pushed. Having the disc by his side was the dignified choice, for both him and the children.

He starts moving — slowly at first, to prevent the children from tipping out. The road would prove dangerous with his floating disc of children, so Sebas opts to move to the side once more. He picks up speed, settling into a run that would have them reaching Forge in an hour or so.

He glances at the children, making sure they were safe. Most of them were enjoying the novelty of their journey — some of them even staring through the transparent force disc to look at the ground underneath. Their guardian, Miss Min, seems anxious but relieved at the same time. Sebas wanted to reassure her one more time, but disregarded the thought. He was doing all he could for the children and their guardian — now if only he could do something about the sun.

***

Dylan enters the barn, only to find the rest of the boys already there.

“You’re late,” says Warren, their unspoken leader. He wasn’t the oldest, but he was poised to take over his father’s farm. He was also the smartest, if they were being honest about it.

“Nah,” Dylan waves him off. It took a bit of effort to escape from the clutches of his siblings, especially right after lunch. “Why all the secrecy? Our families are bound to find out sooner or later — if they haven’t already.”

“It would bring trouble if the mages or nobles found out,” Harrow replies. He was a stout kid, the biggest in their group. There was a time he doubted if he could live the life of a farmer, but his recent connection to the Earth made him feel everything was possible.

He wasn’t the only one of them who felt changes — they were all changing.

Gaining strength and endurance was expected, given their connection to the Earth. Ricki could even skate like Shelby, gliding across the ground like it was ice. What they didn’t expect was improvements to their mental faculties.

They understood better, retaining more from their memories and processing available information faster.

Dylan’s father almost gave him a beating after a display of flawless memory. He wanted to show off, rattling details of prior events that he would have normally forgotten. His parents were visibly upset — thinking their son was possessed, or more likely slacking his way through life by pretending incompetence.

Ricki, their youngest, started talking straight — using words that were beyond that of normal kids and discussing topics like politics and equality among species.

Intelligence was one thing — but all of them experienced more profound changes. They were more confident — even braver.

Their connection to the Earth and their confidence in their strength and resiliency would certainly affect how they worked or even fought — but their confidence extended socially.

The shy Warren turned into a womanizer overnight — wooing girls he had no business with and taking them out for long walks and conversation. They never did anything more than talk — but facing girls was previously impossible for the awkward youth.

“We all know what we’re becoming,” Warren starts, “or what we are already.”

Murmurs of assent fill the barn — some of the boys are rattled by the seemingly ominous statement.

“We are starting the path of magehood,” he continues, “but the implications are complicated.”

“Shelby?” a voice asks.

“Indeed,” Warren agrees. “How could we reveal that our lot was taught by a giant snail? That would bring disaster to our benefactor — and cut us off from her.”

Most of the boys were nodding. Some of them have tried to approach family who were apprentices or mages. They quickly found out that magic involved crafting complex spell matrices in their minds and hours of concentration to brand them into the unconscious — not one bit similar to the Earth magic that they learned from Shelby that involved connecting with the surroundings and using feelings to express their wishes.

Their type of magic seemingly implored the Earth to fulfill their request. It was an imprecise magic. Too much use of magic would tire the Earth, making it ignore their calls for a few hours or even a whole day.

“What should we do then?” asks Ricki. He was the one closest to Shelby, and certainly their fastest learner.

“We go to her — tomorrow.” Warren declares. “We go to her and ask to be her apprentices.”

***

The piece of bone flies freely, escaping Jeremy’s opened hand.

The mage stares dumbfounded at the horizon — marveling at the mysteries of life.

“I did not expect that.”

The words were spoken to the air, but the wizard surmised he wasn’t the only one to feel shock and confusion at what was there before him.

It was a veritable moon in the Astral sea. Spanning close to a mile in diameter, was a sphere of bones. A multitude of dormant skeletons — drawn together by resonance, or perhaps a dark force hidden within.