Over the next few days, Lord Kellian’s soldiers dedicated their efforts to helping the people of Elediah’s Trail prepare for the fall. Though demons had all but vanished from the mountains in the recent weeks, that just left room for bears, wolves, goblins, and ogres to begin moving into the territory, making it even harder for the locals to travel up the mountainside for cutting down trees. Though Fidget and Rain still had plenty of work to be done around the settlement, the soldiers’ efforts had given Lunette and Arvel more free time than they expected.

However, this was not time alone. In spite of Arvel’s protestations, Melodia had settled quite securely into the tool shed and refused to return to the settlement while the soldiers were about; every time Arvel told her she couldn’t stay, she would play on his sympathy about how she could be caught and executed. Of course, what she wasn’t saying aloud is that she could be forced to defend herself, and the settlement could suffer for it. In the meantime, she’d managed to collect several pillows and blankets to drape over the hay bales and even hung up a sheet to create a privacy curtain around her sleeping space, nailed to the rafters.

When Melodia awoke in the late morning after Fidget and Rain had already departed, she found Lunette and Arvel on a grassy hill just outside of the farm’s fenced perimeter. Curiously, she slipped through the rails of the fence and strolled toward them.

Lunette was hammering a wooden post into the ground, with a broomstick tied at a cross-section. Once it was secured, she placed a rusty helmet atop the post, creating a ramshackle practice dummy.

“What’m I supposed to do with that?” Arvel asked, sitting on the ground, cross-legged.

“Well, we don’t yet know what any of those magic rings do,” said Lunette, dropping her mallet back into a tool box. She then walked over to Arvel and set the toolbox down on the ground beside him and the jewelry box they’d brought. Lunette put her hands on her hips and said, “But, you need to be able to focus on a ‘subject’ of some manner if you’re going to try to awaken their magic, and I’d rather not be the target of a fireball in the process.”

“Awaken the magic?” Arvel asked skeptically, “I ain’t no mage.”

“And neither was your father,” Lunette replied, “Thus the need for these relics.”

“If human magic is anything like demon magic,” Melodia began as she approached, “it will likely involve picturing the outcome that you want. If your magic grants you control over fire, you might imagine a candle lighting, or picture your enemy being immolated. Even if you must still conjure that fire through other means, it helps to have a goal in mind.”

“Fire, huh,” Arvel grunted as he picked the jewelry box up and sat it on his lap. He slowly opened the lid before beginning to dig through its contents, fishing out a gold band decorated with a row of five red rubies, the two smallest on the outside edges and with the largest brilliant-cut gem in the dead center. He held it up to the light and slowly turned the ring, examining the etching around the edges, depicting a wreath of flames. Arvel smirked and said, “Well, ain’t that just convenient.”

“‘Commonplace’ is more like it,” Melodia said as she knelt beside him, “One might even venture to say ‘tacky’. Honestly, throwing balls of fire around is just so unimaginative.”

“Next you’ll tell us that swords are gauche,” Lunette said, “Combat is not a place for fashion. If something works, you keep using it, and there are very few creatures that are not susceptible to flame.”

“Swords are hardly gauche,” said Melodia, already smirking at her own joke, “Perhaps they are main gauche.”

Lunette sighed tiredly and said, “A main gauche is a parrying dagger, not a sword.”

“Well if everybody does it, it can’t be that hard, right?” Arvel asked, sliding the bulky ring onto the middle finger of his right hand. It dangled around his digit loosely, having clearly been forged for a man with much larger hands, but after a moment, the metal suddenly warped and tightened, adjusting itself to fit him perfectly. Arvel startled at the awkward feeling, shouting, “The hells...!”

“What?” Melodia asked with a smirk, “You wouldn’t expect a master craftsman to put so much effort into forging a magical ring and not make it adjust to its wearer?”

“How exactly was I supposed to expect that?!” Arvel shouted, shaking his hand and finding the ring unwilling to budge.

“The point is that it fits,” said Lunette, “And clearly it still has some magic in it, in spite of being abandoned for all of these years.”

Arvel pushed himself up to his feet and dusted his backside off before saying, “Alright, then there ain’t no point sittin’ around thinkin’ about it. Time to just try it.”

He walked a few feet forward to stand in front of the spot where Lunette and Melodia sat, and faced the shoddy practice target. He began thinking about what Melodia had described, picturing the desired outcome before he began to conjure the magic itself. His eyes focused on the rope-tied cross-section of the dummy, and he began to imagine it sparking and lighting on fire.

“Alright,” he muttered, balling his hand into a fist as he drew it back, “Ain’t nothin’ to it!”

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Tensing his arm and drawing back his shoulder, Arvel imagined the power swelling in his hand before he threw his arm forward in a powerful punch, twisting his upper body with the momentum, aimed toward the dummy. In his mind he could feel the heat traveling down his bicep and through his knuckles. He thrust his arm forward, focusing on the crux of the wooden target.

Nothing happened.

Arvel stood there for a moment, silent.

“Remember, this is just practice,” Lunette said, “You’re doing fine.”

Arvel’s eye twitched.

“I got this,” he muttered, pulling his arm back again. He imagined the wooden frame of the dummy bursting into flames as he stretched out his fingers before clenching his fist again, and throwing another punch.

Nothing.

The rusty bucket ‘helmet’ of the dummy rocked gently back and forth in the breeze.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Melodia, “It happens to everyone sometimes.”

“The commentary ain’t helpin’!” Arvel shouted over his shoulder.

For the next half-hour, Arvel stubbornly repeated the steps. He tried envisioning everything from a flame the size of a candle, to the top of the hill erupting in a blaze that engulfed the dummy. He punched, he swiped his hand, he imagined collecting a fireball in his hand and throwing from the hip. He tried shouting “Fireball!” or “Burn!” and in the depths of his rage he just strung sounds together that may have been vaguely arcane.

Arvel sat on the grass, his arms resting on his knees, huffing as he stared at the undisturbed dummy.

“It’s not you, honey, it’s the ring,” Melodia said, petting his shoulder.

“Does everything you say gotta sound so condescending?” he asked.

“She’s probably right,” said Lunette, “The ring likely hasn’t been worn in decades. It may have the power to fit to your hand, but having the power to conjure a magic flame is another matter entirely.”

“So what do we do to ‘refill it’?” Arvel asked, “Chuck it in a bonfire? A lava flow?”

“I think lava would probably destroy it,” Lunette replied with a small smirk.

Melodia shook her head and said, “A magic ring like this is going to draw its power from the same thing demons do... Human life. Except it’s going to siphon it off, bit by bit, so little that you don’t even notice it. Nothing a decent breakfast won’t make up for. Conversely, it takes a great deal more time.”

“And it don’t kill ya in the process,” said Arvel, “Which is a benefit I feel like yer undervaluing.”

Melodia shrugged.

“This doesn’t seem to be the kind of thing we can rush,” said Lunette, “I would suggest you select a ring and wear it for a while to see if it begins to grow in power.”

“Why just one?” Arvel asked, “Shouldn’t I stick ‘em all on if they all need this kinda treatment?”

“The amount of power they’d draw from you would be miniscule,” Lunette said, “Your father likely only wore several because they were already powerful, either from drawing on his own energy or from that of mages who crafted them.”

“Put them all on, and maybe by next spring you can light a candle,” said Melodia.

“I appreciate your confidence,” Arvel muttered, looking down at the ring before sliding it off of his finger and tossing it in the jewelry box.

That evening, Arvel was brief with the recount of his day over the dinner table. He told Rain and Fidget that the rings were too drained of power to be of any use yet, but he left out the frustrating minutia of his training. Luckily, Melodia didn’t join them for meals, or else she’d surely have laid out every missing detail in the most embarrassing way.

Once they were done eating and cleaning up from dinner, Arvel asked Fidget out onto the porch with him. She was surprised by his request, but ran out the door, twirling in her dress with excitement.

“You really have gotten used to wearin’ flouncy stuff like that,” Arvel said with a grin, “It suits you.”

“Fidget feels cute!” she replied, grabbing her skirt and swishing it, “It’s light and fun!”

Arvel laughed and sat down on the edge of the porch, patting the spot beside him and saying, “Yeah it is.”

Fidget ran to his side and plopped herself down next to him, happily snuggling up against his side as he draped his arm around her.

“We don’t do this enough,” said Arvel, “Sure, you ‘n me find our ‘alone time’ where we can, but sometimes it’s just nice to sit together ‘n look at the stars.”

Fidget wrapped an arm around his waist, smiling as she looked up at the sky, and said, “Fun time alone is nice... but I like this too.”

Arvel nodded, and reached down into his pocket to fish around for something, before pulling out the golden ring studded with rubies.

Fidget blinked and leaned closer to peer at it, asking, “Is that the ring you tried today?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Didn’t turn out real useful at the time, least not for what I was tryin’ to do with it. Lunette and Melodia said it oughta get stronger if it’s worn a real long time, but it’s kinda frustratin’ we did all that work to find it and now we gotta wait some more.”

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” she said.

Arvel turned the ring over a few times in his grasp, before he reached down and picked up Fidget’s left hand, raising it up and holding the ring to her finger.

“I was thinkin’,” he said quietly, “It don’t have to be useless.”

Slowly, he slid the ring onto her dainty finger, and it shrank itself to fit her digit. Fidget’s eyes widened, staring at the magic ring that affixed itself to her, before she looked up at him and asked, “Is this a wedding ring?”

Arvel was surprised, but he grinned and asked, “Where’d you learn about those?”

“Some of the women in town have them,” she said, smiling warmly.

“Well,” he asked quietly, “do you want it to be?”

Fidget nodded excitedly.

Arvel grinned, and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight, and said, “I was thinkin’ of givin’ the other rings to Lunette and Rain. How do you feel about that...?”

Fidget was quiet for a moment, before hugging him tight, saying, “Fidget was lonely a long time. But now, even when you’re gone, I don’t have to be lonely anymore. Fidget lo— ...I love you... and I love Rain, and Lunette too, but different ways. Still...”

Fidget buried her face against his chest, before lifting it to look up at him.

“Fidget wants Rain and Lunette around forever,” she said with a sheepish smile.

Arvel smiled back, petting her hair, and said, “You know... I think I do too.”