“I might be in a little bit of a pickle,” James said. The knee pain felt slightly less intrusive after he decided to stop and do some stretches midway through the trek.

Giving the dynamic lunge pose another 10 seconds to feel the stretch fully, he gazed absentmindedly at the horizon past the grassy fields.

Avi’Gale’s gray walls blocked the view partly but he was still a good distance away for his sight to gaze upon unending miles of open land to the right and left of the city.

“Much better,” he muttered and stood up feeling some mobility return to his hips and leg muscles. He glanced at the stray wisp accompanying him on his way back from the Fghel valley and sighed.

The little rock was almost perfectly shaped for water-skipping, just a bit too round instead of flat but he imagined it would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. The smooth round stone would feel soothing, and the dull gray coloring that had appeared irrelevant at first now seemed almost comforting.

He had started to appreciate its beauty. Still mindful of Hox’s warning about its nature, he kept some distance between them at all times, but apart from that they were hitting it off quite well in his opinion.

The little rock bounced playfully near the axe James had placed on the grass while he did his stretches. It might be his idea, but it seemed particularly interested in the fire-damaged shaft. It rubbed its round body on the wooden surface like an itchy bear on a tree trunk.

It looked so cute and innocent, so heart–WARNING. Alarm flooded him as he saw the wisp partly rub off on the shaft.

“What the hell?” James mumbled holding himself back from attempting to grab the axe. The wisp was leaking something–a trail of sandy coating wherever its body touched the blackened wood.

“Stupid shitstain, be damned! Why didn’t I listen to Hox and stay the fuck away from it?” He was doing circles around the axe, trying unsuccessfully to shoo away the wisp by waving his hands.

The little thing continued undeterred until the shaft, coated in the alien substance, had turned a sandy gray. The gleemix would kill him if James ever gave the axe back omitting that the wisp had taken what was probably a piss on his treasured weapon. Yes, now he was certain, he had to buy a new one for the sullen fellow. Maybe if he traded this axe for another… It wouldn’t be as expensive.

It would be the first thing he would do, even before his shift started at the tavern. He hesitantly reached and grabbed the axe from the metal cheeks, carefully avoiding getting into contact with the rest of it.

He wasn’t a scientist, wisp matter didn’t interest him one bit; he avoided touching it like the plague it probably was.

While the little rock danced a happy tune of ticks and tacks as it bounced, James considered how to transport the axe safely. It had to be wrapped in something expendable. And he had just the thing.

His semi-torn shirt did the job well enough. He walked shirtless in a dour mood the rest of the way to the city while the lowly wind caressed his curly chesthair as if it felt the need to console him. It didn’t help.

—-

James stopped in front of the first weaponsmith store he crossed and then decided to keep on walking. Just past the Eastward gate with the lowest foot traffic, the shabbiest stores found purchase. Or no one found something to purchase. Both were equally likely so he made for a better alternative further inside the city, past what he had heard called the Graveyard district, divided by the Shadrahn Highstreet he was currently traversing.

A group of three newly dead human men limped their way opposite him. The revenant in between was missing a leg and was supported by the other two. Their sight didn’t wander as they walked forward, it was laser-focused in front of them as if they could see all the way to their destination, the Shadrahn lands.

He barely felt any pity at seeing them. No matter their shoddy state, which was obvious, they had found themselves on the losing end of a nasty fight, but they had that intense look on their faces, the calling, as Ditr had once mentioned. It left no room for sadness or worry. Revenants left behind their past lives to travel beyond. You can’t pity stoic faces, they looked too normal for that.

When he found himself entering the busier districts of the city, where Shadrahn Highstreet met Terling Highstreet, he chose a store that looked inviting enough yet didn’t array heavily decorated weapons on its windowfront. It wouldn’t be too expensive he hoped.

That particular shop was not the front end of a smithy. It was a reseller specializing in weapons and James thought it would make arranging a trade easier.

The wooden door with metal bars was well-oiled and only needed a slight push to open seamlessly.

Which brought him face to face with a long pointy hat. James looked down towards the wearer only to stare at a darker version of a gleemix.

The creature had vibrant yellow eyes with a long curved nose. Which fit in perfectly with the rest of him, since everything looked long and curved, the ears, the face, the chin. His skin had an ashen dark gray hue that seemed to lighten up by the black clothes he wore. Of course in the same manner as the gleemix, he was hairless too.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

A gnome. He thought trying to remember how this particular race felt about humans.

Gnome; Distant cousin of the almost extinct goblin, also related to the gleemix from the same ancestral tree. Prefers living underground to mine ore. Dislikes dwarves for the same reason.

Thanks, Ann, you are a treasure.

“Hello,” James said to break the silence. The gnome was craning his neck to maintain eye contact at such proximity and it didn’t seem particularly comfortable judging by the look he was giving him.

“Gko in, human.” He said in a heavy accent. “Leslie, you ghave a customer.” He called over his shoulder but didn’t move to let James pass freely.

James pushed his way through, bumping into the gnome slightly with his bare belly as he tried to fit past the long counter on his back. On it, a diverse selection of weapons was arrayed that James was eager to inspect after he made it through. The gnome never broke eye contact through all the rubbing.

Weird.. Maybe they don’t like humans as well.

Then he saw his reflection as he passed by a polished silver shield hanging on the wall.

Ok, maybe he doesn’t like the way I look. Understandable.

A female gnome popped up from behind the counter wearing another of those strange pointed hats. If a witch’s hat had a child with a birthday cone, it would quite likely come out like that.

Heh, he wasn’t with the fashion police anyway, he was here to get a new axe.

“I want to exchange this axe for another.” He told her with a smile that he hoped didn’t look menacing from his rugged appearance.

She simply nodded, clearing a space and setting down the rugs of his T-shirt wrapping around the axe. The counter was made to accommodate her height, reaching only to James’s thighs. It made him awkwardly aware of how he towered over her.

With slow movements, she unwrapped the fabric. A low gasp escaped her lips as she looked intently at the weapon in shock.

The shaft had shed the coating from the wisp or absorbed it. James wasn’t sure which but the truth was that it had changed since the last time he had seen it. The shaft had a dark burned-wooden tint yet it shone brightly reflecting the light, and more shockingly it had formed veins of orange, traveling along its length.

“Sir,..” Leslie said but paused, she held the counter with both hands looking up at him gathering her reply. “I am sorry to say. We do not have relic class axes to counter an offer for this. No shop in this district should have anything they can trade you for a relic.”

“Huh, I see,” His mind was racing with the implications. “Well, thanks anyway,” He made to wrap it back in its cocoon.

“Wait one moment, customer,” The first gnome said from beside him. James held himself back from flinching.

When did he come so close?

“Are you interested in cgoins instead? I can gkive you 10 Gkolden Verithians for it, or its weight in Gknomish-Caulkgkold if you prefer.”

The female gnome’s eyes widened and James instinctively knew he was being ripped off. Even 10 gold wasn’t enough? Huh. What exactly had happened to the axe?

“Emm no I’m good, do you know any shop with relic class axes?” He said to divert the topic. He didn’t want his ignorance to bite him.

“Make your offer and I can match it, ghuman. Why not gket some coins instead? I won’t ask questions where it came from. It's better to keep it gquiet. A relic can bringk trouble as much as it can bringk a fortune,” The gnome's eyes glittered with greed.

James shook his head and wrapped the axe in the rags.

“Bahk, fine then. The fiend of Hazar would take it, or the Kildashan cklan. They both have relics to trade for. But they would ask you where you gkot it. It might turn ugkly then.”

The gnome believed that James had happened upon the axe dishonestly. And who would fault him, he looked like a bandit.

“Thanks, but what about the Guild? Won’t they be interested too?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Ohk, you don’t want to gko to the gkuild with treasure,” The gnome said with distaste, and James nodded. He didn’t want anything to do with the Guild either, apart from finding out what had happened to Jane.

He offered his goodbyes to the two gnomes and rushed out of the shop towards the tavern clutching the axe as if any pedestrian on the street was a potential thief.

He had a treasure to protect now.

—-

“HAH. You look worse than yesterday! Go on like this and there won’t be much of you to guard my tavern by the end of the week.” Merek said from behind the counter.

James had a bit of time until the third bell rang and he chose to spend it seated with a courtesy pint comfortingly cupped between his palms, after cleaning up and wearing a new set of clothes, maybe the last that fit him from the sparse selection Ditr had left behind.

Thankfully the thumbprint marking on top of his hand had subdued its lighting, like a dormant volcano, it only appeared as a black crusty scab and it wouldn’t attract much attention either since he was full of the stuff from the struggle against the fghels.

Martha was in pampering mode, however, and she had already asked him several times if he was okay, until Merek gave her an annoyed glare that sent her scattering towards the kitchen and the safety of Ann’s hugs.

Considering that the rabbit waitress was working the night shift, she was too easily intimidated. He wondered what that was all about, letting a little kid work the night crowds seemed a bit too irresponsible, but a magical world had different standards.

His special entirely not normal-looking axe was covered by cloth and tied securely at his side. Like a wrapped gift that told anyone who saw it what was hiding underneath, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

They knew he had an axe. They questioned why having an axe, and hiding the said axe without really hiding the said axe was a thing. The curious might try to touch the axe. Hox might take the axe when he saw him next and that was fair since it practically was his axe. But until then anyone who tried to touch the axe would get the axe, blade first.