Laurel wandered the eastern farmlands with an optimistic stride. She was hoping for a pack of reaver wolves. Maybe a lynx that had formed a core or a roc flying down from the mountains. No need to be picky. She had been forced to accept the destruction of her sect with no hope for vengeance. As much as she could, she had tried to pour the rage at her own impotence into finding a new location to rebuild. But that could do so much. Waiting around to buy a farm lacked any real sense of satisfaction. A fight where she could let loose a bit was exactly what she needed.
The landscape wasn’t anything different than the rest of town. A sturdy stone bridge spanned the water, worn smooth by generations of farmers trudging back and forth. The mayor had provided a list of farms that had lost animals, and a crude map to lead her there. Laurel made her way to the furthest one and began poking around.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
Laurel leaned back from where she had been watching a baby goat wander around its pen. It was far more adorable than the angry woman storming towards her from the farmhouse.
“I’m Laurel Stormblade. The mayor asked me to look into the missing animals.”
“Well that kid’s not missing is it?” With hands on hips the woman looked ready to fight her for the goat.
“No it's not. Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not much to tell. About a week ago eight goats went out. Seven came back. Could see where it got dragged towards the woods but not much else. My man Gant tried tracking it with our hound but they lost it after crossing the river upstream a ways.”
“Would you be willing to show me?”
“Show yourself. Pasture about a kilometer in that direction.”
Nothing more was forthcoming so Laurel decided it was best to take what she could get. She walked off in the direction indicated, keenly aware of the farmwife’s eyes drilling into her back as she left. A week was far too long to expect any clues to remain. Laurel was no tracking expert anyway. Her plan at this point was to move in the right direction and hope something stood out to her spiritual senses. At least the lack of blood or violence at the scene meant it was something smart, and not a passing wolf or something else it would be impossible to confirm.
She came upon the pasture moments later. A gray-furred working dog set up a low growl as she approached. A quick detour and then she was plodding off even further through the fields in a straight line towards the woods, until she came to the narrower part of the river. Laurel took a moment to pause but there was no indication of a frequent crossing, no bridge or stones set up. The ambient mana was ever so slightly increasing, but not enough for flying or running across water. Which meant she was down to her own reinforced body. Nothing much for it, she backed up a few meters. Then with a running start she cycled mana into her legs and launched herself the dozen meters across the river.
From there she sauntered into the forest unconcerned with what she would find. She was a match for anything in the wilds, except for perhaps a grandmaster level spirit beast or a full-grown dragon. And neither of those would be stealing goats from peasants for food. The woods were alive as she explored. Birds and insects set a gentle backdrop to the hike. Laurel’s spiritual senses were spread as far as she could manage with so little mana to work with. She got mostly vague impressions in return, nothing like the clarity she wanted. Something grabbed her attention a half dozen kilometers to the north. With nothing else to go on she redirected to aim for the area.
*******
As a bandit camp it was pathetic. A basic firepit, some well-worn gear, and something that could charitably be described as a lean-to. Most importantly, the bones and hide of a goat, inexpertly carved off to the side. There was no one around and Laurel very nearly left again to track them down. But tracking mortals through unknown territory was neither pleasant, nor a strong suit of hers. That had always been left to Farin, leaving Laurel to follow along and jump in for the fun parts. Insead she settled in to wait, pulling a book out of storage to pass the time. They would return soon enough and she could drag them to the mayor, or just end them here if they put up a fight.
The sun had set by the time they came back, crashing through without a care for stealth. The bandits of this day and age were barely an echo from those she was familiar with. She didn’t bother getting up from where she was lounging against one of the trees.
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A young man entered the clearing. He was broad, and tall, but still with the awkward proportions that meant he wasn’t finished growing. There was an ax strapped to his back but nothing else of quality that she could see. Probably intimidating for the stray traveler, but Laurel was old and experienced enough to note the bulk was that of hard labor and not a life of combat. The lack of grace as he stumbled through the dark campsite in an attempt to light a fire was a big clue as well.
The tinder finally sparked alight, the man feeding a few pieces of wood to turn it into a decent campfire. That was her cue.
“Hello.”
“Ahhh!” The man screamed, threw a knife and fell on his ass.
Laurel didn’t bother moving, the knife having gone wide by two full meters. She watched as the man scuttled backwards on his hands like a pathetic crab. He took a breath to scream again and Laurel cut him off to spare herself.
“No more of that. Tell me where your accomplices are.”
“What, who are you, what is this?” He remembered he was wearing an ax and pulled it out. Then he proceeded to drop it on his own boot when he went to menace Laurel with it.
“Enough!” Laurel had already waited all day and her patience was at an end. She grabbed the ax and shoved the man back to the ground before gesturing with it. “Tell me where the rest of the bandits are, and we can have a nice, pleasant evening.”
“There are bandits around here? Where? We need to run back to town and tell the mayor!”
She stared. Was this man a fool or a genius of deception? “You.” she gestured with the ax, watching the young man flinch back. “You have been terrorizing the local farms. Stealing livestock. You are the bandit.”
“I’m not a bandit!” Now he looked on the verge of tears. “Yeah I took a goat or two the last few weeks, but my rifle jammed up and I don’t have any other ways to hunt. There isn’t anyone else so it's just me.”
Laurel sighed heavily and swung the ax up across her shoulders. “I’m not dealing with this right now. Sit. Sleep. Tomorrow we’re going into town. The mayor can deal with whatever the punishment for livestock theft is.”
“Wait, but —”
“No more discussion. Sleep.”
Laurel went back to lean against a tree as she watched the man climb into a ratty bedroll. While she doubted he had the gumption to make a move, her pride couldn’t take it if he slipped away while she was asleep. She dropped into meditation to pass the evening.
**********
“Gather up anything worth keeping.” She nudged the man with her foot as soon as the sun was high enough for the mortal to walk through the woods without running into the trees.
He blinked at her for a moment but started moving to follow her directions. It was piteous to watch. A pack that was held together with hope and not much else, filled with gear anyone would toss away. The pathetic collection of belongings took only a few minutes to gather, then they started the hike back towards town, Laurel still holding what had turned out to be an incredibly dull wood ax. Guilt threatened but she mercilessly shoved it back down. Banditry was still a problem, even when the bandits were poor. Her curiosity was more difficult to stifle.
“Alright. Name and story.”
The man stumbled where he was trudging ahead of Laurel. Thankfully for Laurel’s sanity, he didn’t ask questions and began talking.
“Name’s Borin. From a town a few weeks south of Perin. Dad and Mom had too many mouths to feed and told me I had to make my own way when I turned sixteen. No one in town wanted to hire me so I set out north. Passing through towns I’d get work for a few days but then they’d put me out again, so I’d move on. I got here and the same thing happened. I decided to camp out until I find something else to do.”
“Why didn’t you go south, towards the bigger cities.”
Borin looked down and away. “I ain’t so good with big groups of people. Folks in the country can usually use another pair of hands so I thought this would work. But I messed it up like I mess up everything.”
They walked in silence after that. Laurel tried to empty her mind. In particular she resolutely did not think about another teenager that was floundering through life, not able to find anywhere to fit until she took a chance and wandered into a sect compound where some crotchety old masters took pity on her.
Laurel was still struggling when they made it to the mayor’s office around midday. Borin’s head had gotten lower and lower as they approached town, trying to shrink into himself. The clerk was surprised when they entered the building but ushered her through into the mayor’s office.
“Back already? No luck finding our mystery predator? Or did you run into the lad and decide to drop him off? I’ll have to tell you, he’s got a good heart but no one else in town is going to take him in. Hamil’s still recovering from the boy destroying the forge, somehow.”
“Not quite. That boy is your mystery predator. He’s been camping out in the woods for a few months and took the goats. No woodcraft or hunting skills at all on that one. Or particularly good judgment.”
The mayor slumped forward and rested his head in his hands. “I am not looking forward to having to punish that child. The town’s already out for blood from the damage he caused legally. Banditry won’t make them more inclined to mercy.”
Something snapped inside Laurel at that. “What would the punishment be?”
“Usually paying the cost of the animals. Or working it off if that’s not a possibility. In this case? Probably a flogging. I’ll try to spare the boy his hands.”
Was she really going to do this? Yes, apparently. “I’ll take him. And pay for the animals. I’ll need some help out on the farmstead anyway.”
The mayor looked her over. “Are you serious? He’s a walking disaster.”
“Yeah, well. Some people took pity on me when I was a walking disaster so I guess the universe has decided it’s my turn.”
“Very well. I won’t stop you from making my life easier.”
“Perfect. Now let's talk about this land, shall we?”
They spent another few minutes discussing the agreement for the land. Laurel had no interest in creative contracts, and the mayor of a rural town wasn’t equipped for clever dealing anyway. They agreed on the original terms and the land was signed over to Laurel.
The new base of the Eternal Archive was an abandoned farm in the middle of nowhere. She had time and space to grow into something every bit as grand as what she remembered. And her first student to whip into shape.