Placing the box down on the floor next to him, Verdan weighed his words with care.

“We don’t have long before we fight the Cyth, and that means that learning a new Word by rote from those I already know isn’t on the cards for either of you. It would take too long and your understanding would be too shallow.”

Verdan paused and both of the young Kranjir leaned in eagerly, sensing the qualifier that was coming.

“The alternative is to do things the way our forebears did, when Words were hoarded and never shared. We will meet each night on the journey and meditate as a group. While you meditate, I want you to think of a concept, a feeling, or just something that you admire in nature. Hold on to that and listen to the Aether.”

“Listen to the Aether?” Dirk repeated, cocking his head to one side.

“Yes, block out everything intrusive, and let your mind drift. Then, once you’ve found something, focus on it and try to hear its name in the Aether. If you lose it, start again from the beginning. Once you get a headache, stop.”

Both his apprentices looked equally sceptical about his instructions, but Verdan was done talking and settled into a meditative position before repeating his instructions.

Following his own words, Verdan settled into a meditation and let his mind roam.

He’d experienced a kind of natural epiphany in the fight for Hobson’s Point, giving him the Word Challyn. A rare event, and one that he couldn’t guarantee for Dirk and Magnus.

Ancient Wizards had found that such events could be slowly coaxed into being, however, and that was something they could all do.

It would take hours of mediation over several days to prime them for such a revelation, but if it did happen, it would give them a Word that they already had a good understanding of.

Between that and some steady practice, he hoped that the two of them would be in good shape for what was coming.

Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, Verdan focused on letting his mind drift, trying to uncover what his subconscious was dwelling on.

A few things flicked through his mind before he felt himself settle on an image. It was one of the Sigils he’d learned recently, the one that he’d named ‘Endure’.

There was something compelling about the shape, and he found himself tracing its outline with his mind.

There was a whisper of something at the edge of his mind, but it was formless and undefined, despite the best that Verdan could do to focus on it while maintaining that image of the Sigil and the concept that it represented.

Oddly enough, his training with Kai to maintain a spell while working on his spiral was coming in useful now, as splitting his attention between the two was a familiar challenge.

When the headache did eventually begin, Verdan reluctantly let go of it all and rose from the meditative state to find both Dirk and Magnus still going.

They were both dripping with sweat and their faces were scrunched with pain, so Verdan clapped his hands, startling them out of it.

“What did I say about not pushing it?” Verdan asked, fixing both of them with a stern look. “A little is fine, but you are meddling with ancient forces here. Push too hard and you could injure yourselves.”

The pair of them shifted uncomfortably, but they looked far from repentant, and Verdan was struck by the uncomfortable certainty that they would both learn that the hard way.

He’d talk with Natalia about some sort of potion to help ease Aetherburn.

Thinking of the alchemist, Verdan glanced up at the darkening sky and decided that it was time to head back.

There was just one more thing to do.

Picking up the box, Verdan threw it over to Magnus and motioned for him to open it. “A little apprenticeship gift for you.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Magnus braced the long box with his legs so he could get at the buckle holding it shut with his hand. Easing it open, Magnus froze as he saw what it held.

“Let me help,” Verdan said softly, moving over to Magnus’s side and taking the prosthetic arm out of the box.

Functionally, it was almost exactly the same as Barb’s, however, there was one key difference. He’d carved the Aether gathering Sigil combination and the one for endurance into the wood and connected the single piece of Aethite he had into the core of the arm.

If all went as he anticipated, the first Sigils would power the second, protecting the arm, while Magnus gave the magic to animate it.

It had taken a lot of work to hide those Sigils within other decorative markings, and Verdan had spent more time in the last few days on it than he’d expected, but it was all worth it.

Strapping it into place on the stub of Magnus’s elbow, Verdan gave the young Kranjir an encouraging nod. “You should be able to sense the spell linked to it, go ahead and feed it with your Aether.”

Verdan felt the Aether shift as Magnus did just that, dumping far more in than he needed to.

Immediately, the wooden arm came alive, the fingers flexing as Magnus cried in silent joy.

“Thank you, Master,” Magnus said, looking up at Verdan with a raw expression. “I can never repay you for this.”

“You already have through your actions,” Verdan said gently. “Wear it with pride.”

“I will,” Magnus said solemnly, his gaze locked onto the wooden hand that was slowly opening and closing. “I won’t forget this.”

Verdan nodded and patted Magnus on the back. “Just make sure you work hard with your gathering spiral. Keeping your arm active will eat up a lot of your Aether, otherwise.”

Magnus nodded and scooped up the box the arm had come in. “I’ll go and get to work on it now.”

Dirk watched Magnus head back to camp and shook his head. “I’d best go with him, make sure he gets some sleep tonight.”

Verdan chuckled and nodded, waving Dirk off as he settled back into the chair he’d made. His headache had faded already, so he’d do a little more meditation and then he’d go back.

After all, both of his apprentices were stubbornly dedicated, and he couldn’t let either of them catch up with him.

-**-

The next few days of travel went much the same as the first two, with the two groups of scouts developing a growing rivalry.

Silver had to step in eventually to make sure that things didn’t go too far, but mostly, it seemed to be a friendly rivalry.

In the evenings, Verdan continued to work with Magnus and Dirk to meditate on the concepts they had found. For Magnus, it was the idea of a shield, to protect him from future injury.

For Dirk, it was the fireball style attack that Verdan used. Specifically, the Word he could use to keep less physical attacks compressed.

Verdan’s own attempts with the concept of endurance were going well, and he was definitely feeling the benefits of his training with Kai, but he was still not quite hearing the word.

Soon, perhaps.

-**-

On the ninth day of travel, they encountered their first band of refugees heading south, laden down with everything they could carry.

Their relief at seeing the expedition was palpable, and Silver called the whole thing to a halt so that they could supply the refugees with food and gather what information they could.

“Thank you for taking the time for this,” Silver said as the various leaders within the expedition gathered around the refugee who seemed in charge of the group.

“Of course, I’m just glad we ran into you,” the refugee said quickly, giving Silver a broad, if shaky smile.

“Of course,” Silver said, in an almost gentle tone. “What can you tell us of the situation near Dresk?”

“Well, the Eternal Wardens have come out in force, half of them heading off, while the rest have been creating fortified outposts to beat the Cyth back,” the man said, his smile turning brittle. “The largest groups have been turned away, but the smaller raiding groups are slaughtering everyone outside the city.”

Silver grimaced. “And what of Ramoria?”

The man shook his head and shrugged. “I’m sorry. I know things are bad that way, but we got little news even before the Cyth arrived.”

“Not at all,” Silver said, patting the man on the shoulder. “We’ll make sure you have food and water before we move on. The way back to Hobson’s Point is clear if you want to head that way for shelter.”

“We’re heading south for now, no offence to any of you, but I’m getting my family as far away as I can,” the refugee said before one of Silver’s guard took him away to arrange the supplies.

“Well, it’s good that they’re on the way, but I’m worried that the Cyth are getting through,” Verdan said, thinking of how long and painful the cleanup of this was going to be.

Of course, that assumed they could crush the Host itself, but Verdan had some plans for that.

“Did you expect this to somehow be a clean fight?” Brenn asked, arching a brow in his direction.

Both Brenn and Macannan had joined them to hear the words of the refugee, which had been surprising given Brenn’s attitude.

“No, but I remain concerned by how quickly the Cyth are spreading,” Verdan said evenly, not rising to the bait and letting her anger him.

Brenn rolled her eyes. “Once you have more experience with these things, you’ll realise that there’s no real way to prevent it. Now, we should get moving if we want to get to the next camp with some light.”

Verdan bit back the urge to snap at her, but the Sorcerer was already walking away, not waiting for a response. Macannan lingered for a moment longer, but simply gave them an apologetic look before following after her.

Verdan restrained a sigh and looked over to see a similarly frustrated look on Silver’s face. “At least she’s not pushing trying to take control from you anymore.”

“Small mercies,” the Commander said under his breath. “She is right, though. We need to get moving.”

“Agreed. The sooner we reach the rest of the alliance forces, the better.”