They watched intently as their companions left the Tavern. The moment the door closed, they shared a look of relief with each other and broke out into a laugh.

"I thought you were got for sure" Oats admitted. "Glad to see you made it out of there."

"You underestimate me friend" Murphy laughed. He put the backpack onto the table, and rubbed his cold hands together in anticipation. Oats inched closer, also excited to see their haul. After removing his cloak, he smiled gleefully at the contents. It wasn’t everything that he'd lost, but it was a good portion. He decided against taking stock of what books were there while he sat in the open, so the three of them went to his room. His account of the books was a satisfying one. He wasn’t sure of everything that wasn't there, though he was pleased to note that most of the missing ones were texts he'd already read. Disappointingly, the journal wasn't among them.

The most exciting thing among his loot however, was the box he'd taken from the shopkeeper. It was a deep brown stained maple, and the lid was decorated in an intricate swirling pattern carved into the smooth wood. There was a locked latch on it, but a quick and careful application of the fire aspect helped solve that problem. Oats looked over his shoulder keenly as he slowly opened the lip. He was expecting to find something of great value, or maybe even his aspect journal. What he found on the inside though, was a delicate crimson velvet lining the inside of an empty box.

"That's disappointing" Oats said, turning his attention back to the other books.

"I'm not so sure about that" Murphy mumbled. He was taken in by the aspect that glowed intensely from within. It was close to the colour of folded space, so he was pretty sure he knew what kind of treasure he'd just acquired. "This is bigger on the inside" he said gleefully.

Oats had another look at it. "Don't look bigger to me."

"It's magic."

"If you say so."

He let Oats go back to counting the books, and contemplated how the box might work. When he put his hand inside, it was solid. It seemed on the surface to be nothing but a fancy but mundane box. He had an idea, and put a copper chip into it. Nothing happened until he closed the lid. When he did, he saw a flash of the aspect through the seam, and found the chip was gone when he opened it. That pleased him, his theory was right, now he just needed to figure out how to retrieve it. He tried telling the box what he wanted, but it remained empty. Next he tried sending the request as a thought, just like he had done in several other circumstances. That was successful, and he jumped with joy when he opened the lid to find the box nearly overflowing with copper chips.

Oats rushed back to see, and danced alongside the Warlock. "I don't know how you did that, but it sure is a handy trick."

"I'm a wizard Oats" Murphy replied boastfully.

They played around with the box for some minutes, seeing what else they might summon from it. He was elated to find that he was now a wealthy man. The box held several coin pouches, and they counted a total above two hundred slab. He gave a share to Oats, keeping most of the gold coin to himself. Oats was happy to take the copper and silver, since it valued around fifty gold all together. While the man was counting the coin into his bag, Murphy studied the box closely, eager to try one more thought. He closed the lid, and summoned the image of his journal into his mind. Making sure he was remembering it properly, he released the thought towards the box. The action was near instantaneous, but he felt as if the moment dragged on forever. There was a flash of aspect from the box, and he tore the lid open in a dramatic flurry of limbs. His excitement caused the contents to launch into the air and across the room. With a slap against the wall, then another on the floor, his journal came to a rest. In a moment, he was reunited with the precious book. A quick flick through the pages confirmed that everything was where it should be, and he sighed in relief.

Oats watched along, curiously. Uundah sent his own sensation of relief. "I take back anything I said about your plan being dumb" he declared.

The box was paying off better than he could have hoped. He was excited to keep experimenting, but their time was limited. He gulped back some anxiety, and retrieved the crystal ball from his satchel. "Okay. So I'm going to talk to someone, and I'm going to need you to stay very quiet" he said, turning his attention to Oats.

The man nodded, and held his hands over his mouth. For good measure, he took several paces backwards to be standing in the corner. Murphy nodded, satisfied with the man's cooperation.

"You’re doing the talking" Uundah said. "I don't want to be held responsible for your dumb ideas."

"You said it wasn't dumb" Murphy thought back.

"And if the old man asks, I still feel that way."

Murphy sighed, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He rolled the ball in his hands for a moment while he tried to gain the courage to endure the upcoming lecture. With a noticeable level of hesitation, he empowered the ball.

"What?" The cranky voice snapped.

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

"Okay. So don't be mad, but I need to tell you about my day" Murphy said nervously.

"I was mad as soon as I heard your stupid voice. Come on then, out with it you cancerous worm snot."

He walked his master through the events of the day, limiting his use of wild magic in the recount, as well as any clue of his accomplice. Callus listened along without interruption, though he was still sure to snort or scoff at most details. After telling him about the heist, he explained his experience with the merchant’s box, and how he'd retrieved his journal.

"You have a power I've never seen before boy" the old man groaned.

"What's that then?"

"You have a unique way of fucking up everything you touch, and still walking away victorious. I hate you for that. Really, I do."

"You’re just mad I did it all without your help" Murphy boasted.

"You’re damn right I am you cocky little shit. Your luck will only take you so far. And there are fates worse than a painful and stupid death that you beg for."

"I didn't know you worried so much about me" Murphy said sarcastically.

"I don't. I'm worried you won't make that delivery, and I'll need to find someone else to do it."

"You’re a cold old bastard, did you know that?"

"And you're a naive canker on the bark of a dying tree, but here we are" the old man sighed. "Did you ever think for a second to ask your victim when he saw Taymon?"

"I thought about it" Murphy insisted.

"Before or after you robbed him and ran?"

"I don't see why that's important."

The ball let out a muffled sound of screaming, and things being broken, then the sound of the old man taking a deep breath. "So you took his ledger box?" He asked, changing the topic in an attempt to stay calm.

"I suppose so, if that's what it's called."

"I don't know what else it could be."

"How do I get out what's in there?"

"You have to know it. Otherwise you can't summon it. Before you ask more stupid questions, most people keep stock of what they store. It's easy to lose things in a ledger box if you forget about it, so there's probably a list of some of the contents. You just need to figure out what that list might look like and hope for the best. I once knew a man that kept his list in his ledger, so it was easy to rob him blind." The old man finished his explanation with a gentle chuckle, seeming to reminisce on old times.

"I think it has books inside."

"The bookseller was storing books you say. How observant of you. Chances are you're right about that one, they'd be valuable too. I'd like to see them if you can live long enough to make it back here."

"You have no faith."

"I'm too old to be putting faith into anything."

"How old are you anyway?"

"I'm not sure. Stop trying to change the topic." Callus chastised.

"No need to be so sensitive."

"Shut up. So who in the hell did you drag into your mess?"

That made Murphy wonder, he was pretty sure he'd omitted any details about Oats' involvement in the whole matter. "Nobody, just me and Uundah" he lied.

"Then who the fuck is the man standing in the corner of your room like an idiot?"

Oats looked surprised, and quickly searched the room with his eyes, before realising that Callus was talking about him. "Oh, do you mean me?" He asked excitedly.

Murphy sighed and ran a hand down his face. Apparently, the old man was still far too clever for him to lie to. "He's in my party. Don't worry though, I had him swear on the medal."

"That must mean you’re learning. Perhaps I've died and I'm seeing the better life."

"I won't be doing nothing sneaky sir" Oats assured the disembodied voice. "I don't want no more trouble with wizards. I don't mind other trouble, but I've learned not to go stompin' on a wizards squash, believe you me. I…"

"Shut up" Callus snapped. "By the gods, you're worse than him" he complained.

"If you're just going to be rude, then I don't want to talk to you" Murphy declared.

"Oh thank the…" the old voice said, before cutting off into dead silence.

"Hello?" Murphy asked after a brief pause. There was no response, and he scrunched his face up. "He hung up on me" he scoffed, looking at Oats with shock and confusion.

"Your friend seems nice" Oats said awkwardly.

"That old bastard doesn't have any friends."

They spent some time repacking everything. He wrote a list of the books he had after borrowing a pen and some paper from the innkeeper. The books all went into the ledger box, and he memorised the words he wrote at the top of the list before placing that inside too. The box fit neatly into his satchel with room to spare, and he said goodbye to his old backpack. He didn’t want to carry it through the streets and draw further suspicion to himself. Oats helped him by stuffing the wolf pelt cloak into his roomy bag. It was going to be a cold walk, but the silver was bound to stand out, and he was sure the guards were aware by now that they had the wrong men in captivity.

The advance they received from the Tavern was a quarter of the jobs pay, netting them each another fifteen gold. He was astonished by the pay, but realised that taking down a wyvern might be the kind of thing that comes with danger money. On receiving the advance, he had his first bout of trepidation at the idea of the task ahead of him. He'd never even seen a wyvern, though the stories all made it clear what kind of monster they were. It was a daunting prospect, and he understood why he'd been laughed away by so many Greeners. Still, he couldn't deny the nervous excitement growing within.

Halfway to the pyre, they received a message from Serril. He told them that they'd chartered a ship that would be leaving off within the half day, so they didn't rush too fast. He took the chance to buy some ink from a downtown Enchanter. He spent three gold, knowing but not caring that he was overpaying for some of it. It afforded him access to some basic ink, and a set of used pens. The idea was to practice his Runecraft on their journey, with a hope to enchant some of his gear.

By the time they found the rest of their party, they were nearly ready to leave Port. Sausage was given a comfortable space below deck near to the kitchen. Oats being the auxiliary, was immediately shown to his quarters and encouraged to cook a meal, the crew being tired of the same slop they'd been serving each other for however long. An auxiliary was always a welcome roll, since many smaller ship crews just shared the responsibility. With the donkey man on board, the sailors had a good few months to enjoy nice food and a clean ship.

Murphy had no immediate responsibilities himself, other than his share of one gold slab to hire the crew. He found himself a comfortable place on deck with a nice view, and watched the sailors go about their routine. After an hour of checking knots, mending tears, and re-inking runes, the ship started to drift from the pyre. They ascended at a gentle pace, and the captain flashed a bunch of different coloured lights to signal his intentions to other ships. To ascend, four burly men turned a heavy wheel behind the captain. With every full rotation, he saw a pulse of aspect shoot deep into the ship's hull, and they would lift by a few metres. Soon enough, the clouds were kissing the mast. For their ascension, the sails remained rolled up and tied off, but once they were clear of the pyre, and other ships, the captain barked an order to have them released. There was a jolt, and he found himself grabbing the handrail tightly to keep from falling over. The ship started to move forwards, and with another flash of aspect from the prow, a glistening shield of force encased the vessel in a bubble, blocking out the strong winds.

He slipped back into his cloak, and enjoyed the view in a comfortable warmth. It took less than ten minutes to get away from Lie-Dor. By now the city was a discernible circle of buildings on the ground. He couldn't make out a single individual, or even spot the Tavern. He smirked, satisfied with getting away with his mischievous misconduct. Then he frowned, thinking about what he'd agreed to do to be on the ship in the first place.