The client is a small farm family, located southwest of Davied. Details on back for directions to the farm.

The smell that permeated throughout the Dice & Sword was Lyght’s favorite part of the place. Well, second favorite to the food itself, of course. Freshly roasted meats gave off a hot, savory aroma that mixed wonderfully with the sweet scents of the different ales and ciders that decorated the tables and bar of the establishment. Someone who wasn’t hungry already upon entering would certainly change their mind shortly thereafter.

Tables were scattered around the main dining area, lined up both along the walls and spaced evenly throughout the floor. The bar wrapped around the far back-right corner, stretched in a shape like a sagging bridge from the right wall to about halfway down the back wall, with seats dotted along the way.

A door off to the back left past a row of tables led to the gambling rooms where dice, cards, and other games could be played. If one were to travel further back past the gambling rooms, they would find the sparring rooms where customers could engage in friendly matches, though no gambling on the matches was allowed due to concerns about possible match fixing.

It was a fun place to spend evenings with the crew, which they often did, like tonight’s occasion. With Geren and Shaugh, the man in charge of the place, being longtime friends and Geren and his crew being regular customers, the food was prepared with just a hint of extra care. The table set off to the far-right of the main room in the corner closest to the bar was unofficially Geren’s for use by he and members of his crew. It gave them a good view of the rest of the restaurant floor while allowing Shaugh to easily sneak over and talk with them from his place behind the bar whenever he was able.

Lyght sat there, lost in thought as he poked at the remnants of his roasted chicken and let the drone of the conversations around him meld together into a hazy collection of indiscernible background noise. It wasn’t that the conversations didn’t interest him. But, having just experienced one of the short-burst headaches that afflicted him on occasion, he was still coming back around to clarity.

Why do they happen? And what does the stuff I see mean?

The headaches had started to occur sporadically within the last few months. Thankfully, they came and went quickly. A sharp, stabbing pain would suddenly sear through Lyght’s head as if someone were inserting a dagger directly through a crack in his skull and into his brain. It was then pulled away, with the pain slowly dissipating over several seconds after the dagger’s removal.

The strangest part was the scenes he witnessed in his mind as the pain was happening. They were clear and concise at first, but then would slowly become blurry until fading entirely, trailing off along with the pain. He couldn’t remember what they were after they happened, either. He knew that they happened, but he questioned himself sometimes as if he were crazy since he couldn’t recall any specific details. Maybe they didn’t happen at all and he was just imagining things due to the pain.

He felt someone shaking him and looked to his left to see Cohn with a concerned look on his face and his hand on Lyght’s shoulder.

“You okay, Lyght?” Cohn asked. “By the look on your face, it looked like you were in pain for a sec there. Then you just kind of zoned out afterward.”

Lyght frowned briefly, disappointed in himself for letting someone notice. He didn’t want to unnecessarily concern others with whatever was going on in his head. He perked up with a smile and responded, “Ha, yeah. Was just zoning out thinking about how it’d be nice if some of the others were here, like Serana and Maris.”

Nice recovery. That’ll get him off me.

Cohn studied him for a moment before returning the smile. “Yeah, it would. You know Maris doesn’t like these big get-togethers though. She’d sooner sit in the corner by herself,” he said with a laugh. “Serana would enjoy it though. She loved any time we’d get new members.”

Feeling better now that he had amply misdirected Cohn’s attention, Lyght surveyed the rest of the group. On the opposite side of the table, Gargarel was tearing into the haunch of a pig while Troy side-eyed his friend’s lack of table manners with a mix of confusion and disgust. Geren lounged back with one arm slung over his chair at the head of the table, a mug of ale in his other hand. Stoic as always to Lyght’s right, Feros sat with a face that did not betray any potential emotion as he listened to the conversations happening around him. Jonas was here also, sitting on the other side of the table with Gargarel and Troy. Though he had the day free of any duties, he still joined them for the evening dinner of course. He was doing his best to swallow his food amid suppressing fits of laughter as Cohn sent numerous jests Gargarel’s way regarding the voracious way he was eating his food.

Jonas handled the administrative tasks for the Last Stand Mercenaries. If a random spectator were to pick one person from the group that would be the least proficient in combat, they would undoubtedly pick Jonas. Tall and slender, he wore glasses befitting his role as someone who regularly reviewed and signed documents instead of swinging a sword. His dark skin was contrasted by the collared white shirt that he wore. Unlike every other person seated at the table, with the exception of Feros whose weapons were his claws, Jonas had no weapon with him. By all accounts, he looked like he belonged at a desk.

Troy dabbed at his mouth with a napkin in a very regal fashion before clearing his throat and speaking. “I was not sure what to expect from this establishment at first, but I must admit that the food is delicious.”

His face took on a more stern look of seriousness as he continued. “Now, I think it would be prudent for those of us departing together tomorrow to discuss strategy. Namely how Gargarel and I, as new members, will integrate into whatever existing tactics you employ during group combat.”

This guy gets straight down to business, huh? Lyght thought as he examined Troy, who was carefully placing his fork and knife down on opposite sides of his plate.

Lyght couldn’t decide how he felt about him yet. They were very different personalities. But, then again so were Troy and Gargarel, and they had been traveling and working together just fine. He did like Gargarel so far. The Gmaas fighter’s blunt honesty was endearing. Neither he nor Lyght had any interest in needless formalities. This allowed them to make quick conversation and the opportunity to make similar light-hearted pokes of sarcasm about certain topics.

Geren looked at Troy over the edge of the mug he had just brought to his lips, pausing for a moment before lowering it and smiling. “You don’t waste any time, huh kid? I did say that we would get started on tomorrow’s plan of action, but there’s plenty of time for that. No need to rush. We’ve still got people eating after all!” he said with a laugh as he motioned with his mug towards Gargarel and Cohn.

Looking a bit dejected, Troy shook his head as he responded. “Well… yes. But that is Gargarel’s third serving, so I would discount that as still eating and rather classify it as engorging himself. Meanwhile, Cohn has spent more time telling jokes than actually eating his food.”

“Hehy, uhm a groan boy!” Gargarel replied with a mouthful. Cohn just waved a dismissive hand towards Troy as he turned his attention to his plate.

Swallowing, Gargarel continued, “I didn’t get these muscles by skipping meals! If I were as scrawny as you, I wouldn’t even be able to lift my axe! Gotta stay strong!” He proclaimed, followed by stuffing another forkful of pork into his mouth.

“If you were that small, I think we’d have to create a new race for you to belong to!” Jonas said with a laugh. “ You wouldn’t be able to rightly call yourself a Gmaas any longer.”

“Dan righ!”. Gargarel pointed a bone in Jonas’s direction as he nodded in approval of the comment, still with a mouthful of meat.

An idea popped into Lyght’s head, remembering the mental note he had made earlier in the day. He looked towards Geren. “Why don’t you tell them the story about how you got your nickname? I’m sure they’d love to hear it. Let them know a bit about how the guy they’ll be working for got his reputation.”

Geren raised an eyebrow. “That old story? I mean, I guess so. If they’re interested.” He turned his attention to Troy and Gargarel. “You boys up for a little bit of storytime?”

Feros scoffed and shook his head. “Oh please. Don’t pretend like you aren’t just itching to tell it. You love it when you have the whole table’s attention hanging on to one of your tales.”

Geren shook his now-empty mug in Feros’s direction. “Hey now, that’s not fair. This was specifically requested. So, whether I enjoy the limelight or not isn’t really relevant. I’m just fulfilling a request. No different than fulfilling a job contract, really.”

Feros just shrugged and motioned to one of the workers to bring him a refill. The worker rushed over and refilled Feros’s mug, nervously eyeing the Feroxi as he did so. Feros’s generally hard visage and fearsome Feroxi features made people nervous by his sheer presence, but the server seemed extra nervous. Being a Halvan, it made sense, as Feros must seem like a monster towering over him.

Geren took a refill as well since the worker was already there anyway. The small man bowed quickly and then scampered off to tend to another table.

Halvan looked just like humans in most of their features but had bigger noses, rounder heads, and most notably, were much shorter. The typical Halvan stood at about four feet tall. Lyght liked the little people and found them fun to be around. Most members of their race were typically laid-back and found joys in simple activities such as cooking, telling jokes, and fishing.

Gargarel began to speak with his mouth full again, saying, “Mahn, I shluv tho sittle—”

“Garg, we seriously cannot understand a word you’re saying. Please wait until you’ve swallowed your food!” Troy interrupted. He was rubbing his temples in obvious distress at Gargarel’s bad manners.

“Ohsh, one sheck!” Gargarel said. He swallowed, then repeated what he had been trying to say previously. “Man, I love those little guys! Troy and I visited a Halvan village last month. Hohm, it was called. Met a guy named Basil Beastfist. Awesome name! Speaking of awesome names—tell us the story!”

Troy removed his hands from his temples and rested them in his lap as he spoke. “Yes, I expect that it is a fascinating story. We would love to hear it.”

After taking a large drink of his fresh refill, Geren set his mug down and smiled. “Well that settles it. See, Feros? I’m just giving the new crew members what they want.”

Feros ignored the jest as he drank from his mug without looking towards Geren.

“Alright, so where to start…” Geren said as he looked up in thought.

“The beginning, preferably!” Cohn hollered. He had gotten up from his seat and was heading towards the bathroom.

“Real funny, Cohn!” Geren shouted back.

He looked back towards the group still at the table and continued. “It was on a job I was hired for as I’m sure you’ve heard. It was ten years ago now, one year before I founded the Last Stand Mercenaries. The company’s name is an homage to that job. I wasn’t the only one hired though; it was a team that was hired.

“The Frelerian princess was kidnapped, but King Aylen didn’t want to mobilize his own troops in the recovery mission for fear of sparking possible retaliation from one of the other countries. You all know our power structure, with each country of Freleria, Daienado, Garreghais, and Trausen being their own entity with their own ruler. The High King rules over all of the continent of Venterias with authority over each of these countries, and the Council holds equal power to The High King as a balancing force to keep him in check if needed. And… well, we all play nice, more or less.

“You younger people probably don’t remember, but tensions were high at the time with distrust amongst all of the different governing powers due to the recent rumors regarding Architect Relics that had begun to circulate. Because of this, King Aylen felt that a rescue squad composed of some of Freleria’s most highly-rated and trustworthy mercenaries that were, technically, a neutral third party would be his safest bet. He had a strong suspicion that one of the other countries was responsible for the kidnapping of Princess Haru, but he didn’t have any evidence, so he was walking a fine line.”

He took a drink before continuing. “I had made a decent name for myself in Freleria in the years prior after leaving the Ismanna Desert, and I was good friends with General Gabriel of the Frelerian army, so he put a good word in for me during the recruitment process. Some 70-odd mercenaries comprised the group with a pecking order of who was in charge. The good word Gabe put in for me led to me being the fourth highest ranking, whether I deserved it or not.

“There were a handful of officers from the Frelerian army sprinkled in throughout also to help ensure the job stayed on track while at the same time bolstering the force’s fighting capability. Nobody high ranking enough that could be easily recognized at a glance as Frelerian if they were killed or captured, but important enough to have the authority to give orders to the mercenaries on behalf of the contract.

“Scouts had tracked the kidnappers to the Ulrorr Mountains to the east. We mobilized and followed the trail… but were ambushed. They knew we were chasing them. We fought well but lost a lot of good men—the three who outranked me among them.”

Geren shook his head and suddenly looked tired as if the memories had sapped his stamina. He took a deep breath and smiled. “I was suddenly in charge of the operation. We were able to identify during that first battle that the men were deserters of the Daeinado military. Never was certain of an exact number, but there were upwards of a hundred of them. If any of you aren’t familiar with how Daeinado operates, they regularly send some of their soldiers on scouting missions into the Northern Outlands.” He could see Gargarel, who had mentioned ealier that day that he was from the Daeinado city of Vizam, nodding along as he took another bite.

“Needless to say, not everyone takes kindly to that sort of thing. Their army has a really high desertion rate as a result. It was even worse back then, with King Dhagan sending even more scouting parties out to try and capitalize on the rumors that the Outlands contained powerful magical items. Architect Relics, the rumors called them.

“I figured that this group had hopes of escaping the death penalty for desertion by buying their way back into the army with Princess Haru as a prize for the king, given the high inter-country tensions at the time. Considering this, I took a gamble. I knew they were going to continue heading east towards Daeinado, so I had my men retreat back to the west. I kept a small group, myself included, hidden nearby so that we could attack the rear of the deserters when they mobilized to continue east. My hope was that we could grab the princess and escape with a smaller force and the element of surprise.”

He sighed. “Well, my plan worked. We hit the rear of their force, and luckily, they had the princess being held right there at the rear. Makes sense, normally. In this situation though, they weren’t expecting us to attack after the feigned retreat—probably thought we had suffered too many losses in the initial ambush. Honestly, they were right. But… they didn’t count on me being a headstrong fool.

“We were outnumbered ten to one with the bulk of our force gone, so now we had to figure out how to escape. There were the remnants of an old fortress we had passed previously so we made our way back there to fortify a position and hold. Not everyone was on board with the idea, however, since our chances of surviving were slim.

“One of the officers from the Frelerian Army that was still with us insisted on taking the princess and escaping while the remainder of our force distracted the deserters, saying that her return was the highest priority. Though what he said made sense, I wasn’t going to agree to that plan. He was just looking to save his own skin. Problem was… he held authority in the situation when it came to the safety of the princess due to how King Aylen had structured the details of the contract when he mixed his own men into the operation.

“So,” he began to grin as he continued, “I tricked him. I antagonized him until he fired me. Fired all of us—we were no longer employed by the Frelerian crown. He had the right to do so as a representative of our contract, after all. With the contract voided, I didn’t have any right to withhold Princess Haru from him. I was now technically the kidnapper by preventing him from returning her to Wallesen.

“Ha! He thought that all mercenaries were sellswords without a moral code. With a different group, he may have been correct. King Aylen had hired good men, though. The fool tried to hire the other men in the group right there on the spot to capture me and give him the princess. I knew they wouldn’t—and they didn’t. So now, we had the princess… with no contractual obligation to hand her over.”

He laughed and took another drink. “Now came the part where we had to survive, though. We held out for three days against the superior force, using the terrain and the remnants of that old fortress to our advantage as best we could—a last stand as it were. The rest of our forces that I had sent off on the feigned retreat doubled back and returned on the fourth day, flanking the Daienado deserters, allowing us to crush them from both sides despite them having the better numbers.

“With them dead and the princess in tow, we renewed the initial contract with a different Frelerian officer from the group who had returned. He overruled the other jerk from before. Headed back to Wallesen, got our pay and our flowers, and I got the nickname “Unbreakable Wolf”. It was Gabe—General Gabriel—who bestowed it upon me at a celebration feast that took place afterward. He said it was ‘to represent my undying loyalty and my unbreakable spirit in the face of overwhelming odds’.

Geren snorted and gave a small chuckle. “Basically, a bunch of big fancy words. But I appreciated it nonetheless, and it’s done wonders for me reputation-wise ever since. I’m just a man, in all honesty. But to others, I’m the Unbreakable Wolf. Whether it truthfully means anything or not… eh, that’s the reality of it now. “

He nodded towards Gargarel and Troy. “Take you two for example. You sought me out and looked to join my company in large part due to the moniker and the reputation that comes with it.”

The pair nodded in agreement, with Troy speaking up. “I will admit I had not heard of you until I met Gargarel and he suggested we make this trip. Apologies—it was the household I grew up in. Stories of mercenary leaders were not exactly the premier bedtime stories I was accustomed to. It is an impressive tale, and it sounds as though you earned the title.”

A frown crept across Troy’s face as he continued. “I… understand a desire to appear humble, but I would think that you would want to wear a title such as that with honor rather than be dismissive of it and call yourself ‘just a man’, however.”

Geren shrugged. “I am ‘just a man’, though. No point romanticizing it. Sure, a man that has accomplished some feats that others find impressive… but just a man at the end of it all. I’ve got my share of failures also.” He raised his now-empty glass with a wink. “No fancy nicknames for those though, huh?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

There was a look of confusion on Troy’s face that Lyght couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of. “I… suppose that is correct. A very straightforward way of looking at things…” Troy trailed off as he rubbed his chin and stared thoughtfully at his empty plate, as though it contained the answers to whatever internal questions were ailing him.

That’s why we all follow Geren. He doesn’t pretend to be anything he’s not, and he’ll always have your back. Even with me, he literally saved my life… but from the first day after I woke up, he never acted like he was a special savior or something. Never asked me for anything in return or expected me to even say “thank you”. He just has that ability to get people to follow him. Maybe that’ll rub off on me one of these days.

“I love when you tell that story—brings me back to old memories. You always seem to forget to mention who the leader of the squad that came back on the flank was, though! Come on now!” A loud voice shouted from nearby.

Lyght looked over and saw Shaugh standing behind the bar next to their table, drying his hands on a cloth. He, like Jonas, had dark skin. His head was bald, but he had an ebony goatee he was very proud of, currently being stretched with a smile. A silver stud was in each earlobe, with a small gold ring affixed to the top of both ears in contrast.

The suave black shirt with a collar that he wore was tight-fitting, a testament to the muscles that were being restrained underneath the garment. He had a deep but smooth voice. Lyght had never heard Shaugh sing, but he imagined he would be very good at it.

“Well now, why would I bother mentioning that when you always show up at the end of the story and take care of it for me anyway?” Geren said, laughing.

Shaugh laughed as well and shook his head. “Man, I saved your hide all those years ago just for you to give me sass in my own restaurant?”.

He placed the cloth down and leaned his elbows on the bar, eyeing Gargarel and Troy. “So, these two new blood then?”

“Yeah, joined just earlier today,” Geren said. “They’re heading out tomorrow with Lyght and Feros for their first job. Gotta take care of some bandits that have been bothering a nearby farming family. I figure they’ll do well enough. This one was bold enough to challenge me to a fight almost immediately after meeting me,” he said with a laugh as he nodded towards Gargarel. “And this one,” he continued, nodding towards Troy, “has got a real good head on his shoulders. He’s shown some impressive cleverness so far that I can appreciate.”

Gargarel burped, then spoke with a hint of offense in his voice. “I’ve got a real good head too, ya know! Hard as steel! If I ever lose my axe, I can just headbutt my enemies!

Shaugh made a whistling sound. “Whoo boy, I see what you mean about him being bold. Well, nice to meet you both—I’m Shaugh. Stomped around with Geren back in the day. Followed him here and helped him with getting the Last Stand Mercenaries up and going initially. Done my fair share of merc work in my day before deciding to open this place up to switch things up a bit a few years back. I still take on a contract every now and then for old times sake and to make sure my skills stay sharp. You boys are in good hands. Geren’ll treat you right.”

Troy bowed his head slightly as he introduced himself. “A pleasure to meet you, Shaugh. You can call me Troy. I’m looking forward to the chance to prove Geren made a sound decision in letting me join his company.”

“And I’m Gargarel!” Gargarel belted as soon as Troy finished speaking. “It’s my goal for my name to be as widely known as Geren’s is—more even! Here you go, you can keep a few of these at the bar for any customers who want one!”

He stood up and walked over to the bar, then pulled out a stack of small rectangular pieces of paper. Setting them down proudly on the bartop, he crossed his arms and gave a wide fanged grin.

“Man, you really got two completely opposite types of people here, huh Ger?” Shaugh eyed the pieces of paper Gargarel had set down. “What uh… are they exactly?” He asked.

“Cards of course!” Gargarel said as if it were blatantly obvious.

“Oh, right.” Shaugh nodded. “You know, normally, cards—business cards typically— have some kind of information on them for where people can find you, a service you offer… stuff like that. These just say The All Powerful Gargarel Battlebard and have a really... creative drawing on them that vaguely looks like your face if I really focus.”

“Yeah, so people will know my name!” Gargarel said matter-of-factly.

Cohn, who had returned to his seat during Geren’s story previously, suddenly found himself in a fit of laughter. “Battlebard? Oh man. You come up with that yourself?”

Gargarel turned to Cohn, arms still crossed and with a serious look on his face. “Got a problem with my family’s name, grass-head?”

Cohn settled down and wiped a tear from his eye. “No, ‘course not. No offense meant, I just expected something more like ‘Bloodbringer’ I guess.”

A smile replaced the serious look on Gargarel’s face. “Huh... Bloodbringer... I like that! I’ll keep that one in the ‘ole brain for the future.”

Shaugh shook his head and laughed, but he did take the stack of cards and put them on a shelf under the bar. “You know, why not?” I’ll set these out tomorrow. If anyone asks, I’ll just say Geren has a crazy new recruit. Maybe it’ll send some work your way!”

“You’re buttering my biscuits!” Gargarel exclaimed. “That’d be awesome! I like you.” He looked thoroughly pleased as he spoke.

Noticing the confused look on Shaugh’s face, he continued. “Oh, just a figure of speech. You know—like ‘pulling my leg’. I’m always comin’ up with new ones!”

Shaugh’s look of confusion transformed into one of amusement. “You know, that’s pretty good. I’ll have to ‘keep that one in the ole brain’, as they say.” Shaugh joked with a wink.

“Alright, you get back to work now,” Geren said, waving his hand in a shooing motion towards Shaugh. “We’ve got some important things to talk about, and you’re distracting us.”

Shaugh put his palms in the air in a shrug of innocence. “Hey, I just wanted to meet the new recruits. Not my fault they liked me so much.” Chuckling, he continued “I’ll let you guys get to it then. Good luck on your first job tomorrow, you two. Feros, Lyght—keep ‘em safe!”

He did a quick nod towards the group and walked away to chat with some of the other people sitting further down the bar. Geren turned back in his chair to face the whole table.

Cohn stood up. “I’m gonna head into the back and throw some of my money away on a few bets for a bit. You wanna come, Jonas?”

“Sure, I’ll make sure you don’t put yourself into too big of a hole. I know the ins and outs of how much you make, after all, so I’ll know when you’re going into the red.” Jonas said with a chuckle.

The two of them gave quick waves to the rest of the table and headed off.

Geren clapped his hands together and began speaking. “Okay, so down to business. Gargarel, Troy—let’s go over the specifics of what you guys can do. You each gave me a brief overview earlier today and I got to see a bit of it firsthand, but let’s talk details. Also, how familiar are each of you with the inner workings of how magic actually works? You can obviously both use it to varying degrees, but I want to know more about your understanding of it, if you’ve received any formal training—that kind of thing.”

Troy and Gargarel shared a look as if they were not sure who should speak first. Gargarel shrugged and grabbed his axe from where it sat nearby.

“Well like I said earlier today, I specialize in magic that can affect the body and the mind. I don’t know what all that really covers yet though honestly since I’m still learning different ways I can apply it. But like earlier today with Troy… I was able to enhance his speed. Oh, and the effects from the spells I cast on people can also be negative.”

He ran his fingers along the handle of his axe. “I’ve been practicing one where anybody who hears my strings begins to see hallucinations. I primarily fight up close with my axe, slashing and crushing and being generally hardcore, but I can back off and use magic when needed. As for understanding the inner workings of magic... I dunno, really. My brother Enrique told me a little bit about how magic is something you either can or can’t do but he didn’t explain why. Me and him didn’t get along great, so what I actually learned how to use was just through trial and error.”

Geren nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer. “And you, Troy?”

Troy flushed a bit. “My fighting style is that of someone who is best suited to work in a team. I have good battlesense with a feel for how to move around a battlefield, and can find openings in an opponent’s defense if I am able to observe their movements and technique. Previous work I have done has taught me the skills of stealth, as well.”

He looked down for a bit before looking back up. “Magic is not… the area I’m most proficient in, let’s say. I am able to perform minor feats such as the voice changing trick I used in our battle to mimic Cohn’s voice. That is the extent of it at this time. I feel… that there are other ways I can apply what little magic I am able to use, but I’ve not yet found them. As for the inner workings or rules of magic as it were—I am admittedly ignorant. I just recently came upon the abilities I do have within the last few months and have not received any formal training. The training I’ve received in the past has focused solely on swordplay and archery.”

Geren nodded again. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. “Great answers, that tells me a lot about where we’ll start at with getting you two up to speed and how to best make use of your talents. Troy, don’t fret that you’re not well-versed in magic. That’s one reason we’re having this discussion is so I know more about what you don’t know and we can educate you on that front first. And keep in mind that there are plenty of people who can’t use magic of any kind, so don’t feel bad about your perceived lack of ability. Be proud of what you can do, and focus on that.”

Troy looked shocked at the words of positivity. He nodded but did not say anything.

“With magic, every person that is able to use magic—whether they’re Human, Feroxi, Gmaas, Hylennial, or Halvan—has circuits that run through their body. These are called ‘essence circuits’. Think of a system akin to the veins that carry blood through your body for it to function properly; it’s the same kind of system except the essence circuits carry what is known as, well, ‘essence’. Essence is what acts as the power source for magic to be cast, and the circuits are the avenue by which one is able to channel the essence. Make sense so far?”

Troy and Gargarel each nodded. Geren continued. “Now keeping those both in mind—let’s talk about what you’re able to do when essence is channeled through your circuits. What exactly does it mean to ‘use magic’? In the simplest of terms, ‘using magic’ is when you channel essence through your circuits and cause something to happen. That something, whatever phenomenon occurs when the essence is channeled, is the magic that is being cast, essentially.”

He glanced at his glass, a look of disappointment that it no longer had anything in it flashing briefly across his face before continuing. “It’s important to understand something about essence circuits when it comes to using magic. A person’s circuits have... let’s say a code, for simplicity’s sake, built into them naturally. Just as your body has some kind of internal code to determine what you look like, your skeletal structure, and stuff like that—circuits follow that same rule. So, however your circuits are coded, that determines how your essence will manifest whenever you channel it. This is why each person has their own type of magic that they specialize in.”

Gargarel spoke up. “So you’re saying… like in my case, when I...” He seemed to be focusing on remembering Geren’s words, but having trouble doing so. “When I do the thing you said. My essence is manifacting in a way that gives me the ability to affect other people? How does that work?”

Geren laughed as he responded. “Manifesting. Yeah, kind of. Essence can be used internally, externally, or both. In your case, you’re channeling your essence through your circuits and then expelling it out of your body, causing an external effect that targets another person. The tricky part is this—what exactly is happening when you do that? Understanding the root of your circuits’ capabilities will let you start to alter the intended effects to give you a much more varied range of abilities that are derived from the same principle.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “So let’s say that your root ability is to alter aspects of a person’s physiology. I’d say that’s probably close based on what you’ve told me and what little I’ve seen in real action. That would allow you a lot of options when it comes to how you use your magic. Earlier today, you affected Troy’s body in a way that made him move faster. You mentioned you’ve been practicing on causing people to see hallucinations, also. Do you see what I’m getting at? Your circuits have a root principle coded into them, and your magic capabilities rely on how well you can derive additional possibilities from that same root principle.”

“Huh… lots of big words, but yeah… I think so,” Gargarel said, “So if I’m understanding right, I could do all sorts of cool stuff if I just figured out how!” He punched a fist into the palm of the other hand and seemed excited.

Surprised that he actually followed along with all that, honestly. Lyght mused to himself.

“Question, though. What about my axe? I never really thought about it and just kind of took it for granted, but now that you’ve explained all of that, I don’t really get how it makes my magic stronger.”

Geren smiled. “We’ll get to that in just a sec.” He turned his attention to Troy. “For your abilities Troy, I’m honestly not sure yet. It may be as simple as your root ability being ‘voice copying’. It could even be something more broad like ‘copying another person’s characteristics’, and perhaps you’ve just latched on to voices as the initial starting point of your abilities. We’ll have to practice and do some tests to figure it out and branch off from there. Do you feel better now, though? Your magic limitations you’re down on yourself for are strictly due to the fact you haven’t identified your root ability and honed it properly yet. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

Troy nodded, looking thoughtful. “Yes, your explanations made perfect sense. I do feel a bit better now. Perhaps through practice and understanding, my magic can grow to be as useful of a tool as my other skills are.”

“Glad you’re feeling better—but what about my axe?” Gargarel asked impatiently.

Geren sighed. “It’s a pretty in-depth topic to get into so I’ll try to give you the brief overview. Have either of you heard of the term ‘tracing’?”

Gargarel’s face indicated he had not, but Troy nodded and answered. “Yes, I believe that is the term used to describe how the magic contained in runes works. I will admit I do not know what it means precisely, but I do know of the term.”

“You’re exactly right about the runes,” Geren said. “When a mage channels essence through their circuits and then expels that essence from their body—a spell or an effect doesn't have to happen immediately. Instead, that magic can be stored in the traces of the caster’s essence that is left behind. Tracing is the act of doing just this and how it got its name—channeling essence from your body and leaving traces of it externally.

“A mage who creates a rune, for example, traces the essence flowing from their circuits into the rune. That rune now contains a trace of that particular person’s essence, which means that the rune contains magic the same as what that original caster is able to use. Another mage can activate the rune with their own essence, thus casting the spell contained within from the trace.”

“So how does this relate to my axe?” Gargarel asked.

“It relates,” Geren began, “because you mentioned you had a friend who enchanted the axe for you. What he really did, whether he realized or not, was trace some of his essence into those strings. You said that he ‘gave it a thunder enchantment’ right?”

“Yeah! He was good at causing, like, lightning and thunder to happen and stuff.”

Lyght perked up at the mention of this. I wonder if Gargarel still keeps in touch with that friend.

Geren nodded and continued. “The essence he traced into it was channeled through the circuits he used for, I’m guessing, thunder magic. It must have been a fairly small amount since it doesn’t cast an actual spell itself, but that would be why it makes the reverberating booming sounds that it does when you mess with the strings. As for why it makes your magic stronger… I’d say the sounds from that make it so your touch on other people has a greater impact. When they hear this, the effect you’re targeting them with is enhanced. ”

He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Most items don’t hold traces long-term past when they’re initially activated. Something with the way he traced it, or the way you’re utilizing the trace… the thunder essence is still hanging around. Basically acting as an amplifier or a catalyst. I said it before back at the hall, but that’s a real unique piece of work.”

Gargarel had a concerned look on his face. “So… traces can stick around even if the person they came from… is gone?”

Well that answers that… Lyght thought, frowning.

Geren’s face softened, realizing what Gargarel was asking. “Yes, they do. The essence has already been channeled through their circuits and then expelled. It exists separate from the original caster at that point.”

A smile returned to Gargarel’s face as he spoke. “Huh. Ya know, this thing was already my most prized possession, but I guess it just got a little more special. It has a piece of Ven in it. Pretty crazy! Thanks, Chief.”

Feros spoke up finally after having remained quiet for so long, having let Geren handle the education of the two new recruits. “Sounds like we know what the plan is when the time comes to clean up the bandits, then.”

“Uh... we do?” Gargaren asked confusedly. “We haven’t talked about it at all though. Just talking about magic and stuff.”

“The information earlier before Geren decided to ramble.” Feros said.

Geren opened his mouth to object to the ramble comment, but Feros continued, cutting him off. “With your current skills, you’re both capable of operating in supporting roles from a distance. Gargarel through use of magic, and Troy with his archery skills. Lyght and I are both adept at fighting at close range. We have a good squad in that scenario—especially since you two are technically going to be in training. The two of us will handle most of the dirty work with you two backing us up as needed.”

“You were busy visualizing an imaginary battlefield with all four of us on it that whole time they were talking, weren’t you?” Lyght asked, giving Feros a slight elbow nudge.

“It was a better use of mental effort than listening to Blondie mope about his magical shortcomings and Green One yell about his axe with strings on it.” Feros said, shrugging.

“M…mope?” Troy asked, looking defeated.

“Play nice, Feros.” Geren said. He was attempting to look serious but couldn’t help smiling at Feros’s comments.

Feros just shrugged again. “I’ll play nice tomorrow. I’m feeling combative tonight. Blame it on that fool merchant you had me escort. Being around that idiot kept me in a bad mood for multiple days, and it’s yet to wear off.”

Geren stood up from his seat chuckling. “You’re always in a bad mood though. Or, at the very least, you aren’t in a good one. In any case, sounds like we have a plan for tomorrow. I’ll give you guys the directions to the farm and full details in the morning and you can head out. Troy, Gargarel—I’ll show you two the rooms you’ll be using back at the hall.”

The pair nodded to Lyght and Feros and stood, following Geren, who dropped off the payment for the night’s food and drink with Shaugh on his way out.

After they had left, Feros spoke up. “So, when are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

Lyght started and looked up at Feros, visibly surprised at the question.

“And don’t tell me you’re thinking about the other crew members not being here. I’m not as dumb as Cohn.” He continued.

“Nothing, really. If you’re talking about earlier, it was just a headache.” Lyght answered half-honestly. “I’m fine.”

Feros eyed him for a moment, his crimson eyes seemingly boring into Lyght’s thoughts to try and find the truth. “Well, whatever. You can talk about it when you’re ready. Just know that you can’t fool me.”

Lyght sighed slightly. “Yeah, you can be annoying like that. Honestly though, I’m not sure right now what the problem is. Once I know more myself, I’ll loop you in.”

Feros’s nod indicated that was an acceptable answer for now. A loud shriek sounded from the back of the restaurant in the gambling rooms. Lyght and Feros shared a look, both recognizing the source of the shriek as Cohn’s voice. A silent understanding was shared between the two of them that Cohn must be losing badly.

“Let’s head back,” Lyght began, “before Cohn shows back up and asks us for some extra gambling funds.”

Feros smirked in agreement. They left the Dice & Sword and returned to the Last Stand Mercenaries’ headquarters across the square to get some sleep in preparation for the upcoming day.

Lyght lied in bed that night, pondering. If I could just remember the stuff I see when the headaches come… Even just a little bit, maybe it would help me figure out why they happen. Assuming there even *is* a reason. Hell, it could just be the *pain* causing me to imagine things. Maybe… I don’t know….

He closed his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep. When he next opened his eyes and awoke, sunlight shone through the window, dust particles visible in the air that the luminescent rays passed through. There was the sound of someone knocking on his door, and past that, the sound of voices.