Rowen had fulfilled all of my requests in barely an hour. I stood inside a shack near the edge of the camp, one designed to butcher, cure, and store any meat taken in from the nearby forest.

Luckily, no one had started to break down the boar's corpse yet. It lay on a long wooden table, giving off a harsh, unpleasant odor of animal fur, waste, dirt, blood, and viscera. I found myself near-wistfully recalling the cart ride to the mines and had to push aside the now-pleasant memory and examine the body more carefully.

Grease, mud, and dried blood matted its fur, and I could make out dozens of minor cuts and gashes everywhere. Spots of red-purple muscle and white bone poked out from particularly deep wounds, and someone had twisted its broken legs back in the right direction.

Though the beast was wide at the hips and shoulder, I noted that its chest was too narrow with a visible ribcage. Each limb was lean, its skin hung loose, and its fur had fallen off entirely in several places. I leaned in closer and sensed the strangely contained feeling of mana bound to flesh, almost like water in a glass. Yet it felt almost...

"Tell me something," I asked aloud as I moved around the animal. The other room occupant, a part-time hunter when not working as a guard, looked at me, and I continued, "Would you call this animal healthy? Well-fed?"

"Sir?" the hunter's eyebrows drew down, and he shifted his feet, "Apologies, but I thought you wanted me to clean the corpse. Rowen said-"

"Yes, yes, you can do that shortly. Truthfully, I wanted a second opinion from someone who had seen similar corpses already," I waved a hand toward the body again, "So? What do you think?"

The man considered my words and the body, pausing for a few seconds before replying, "I'd say it's starvin', sir. Most animals get lean like that in the winter, but not that lean. Losin' their fur, too."

I nodded a few times, "Unfortunately, I agree. Thank you. Would it be possible to skin the beast and prepare its hide for transport?"

"Course, sir. It'd be a few days, though."

"That should be fine. You can keep the meat and anything else as payment."

The hunter got to work immediately, and I left him to his task. Rowen had sent word that any reports on prior animal attacks would be waiting in his office, so I made my way there.

It did not take me long to skim through any pertinent information, and after I finished, I started to piece together the greater image. It remained indistinct, but the edges had resolved, and I did not like what I saw.

Most animals are territorial by nature, and magical ones were, if anything, worse. They required food, water, and shelter like any living thing, but more than that, they needed mana to grow and advance. A magical beast usually claimed vast swaths of land to support that need, but they also gained enough intelligence to avoid human settlements.

Hunters would occasionally track and kill the odd man-eating beast, and mages had to slay the genuinely titanic threats like dragons, but most would run and hide rather than fight. Even moderate resistance was enough to dissuade all but the most aggressive and violent beasts.

But starting a year ago, that strategy had failed. Attacks went from rare to common as their frequency exploded. One or two a month became two or three a week, and each one became a violent, brutal thing. Animals became tenacious, injuries were frequent, and deaths went from an unheard-of tragedy to a genuine threat.

I was sitting in the corner of Rowen's office when the foreman himself entered. He favored his good leg and nodded once as he walked around the desk to take a seat.

"You find anything interesting in all that?"

I tapped my fingers on my leg before setting the reports to one side and replying, "I have a hypothesis. Magical or not, these beasts are just that. Animals are predictable if you know their habits. So, there are two possibilities."

Rowen sat with a grunt, then gestured for me to continue.

"The first is direct control by someone or something else."

"Like magic?" Rowen frowned.

"Essentially. Horde wolves are a species that link minds into a single, unified whole. The more there are, the smarter they get. Insect hive minds are disgustingly common, and a true dragon can control drakes, wyverns, and sea serpents."

I had expected Rowen to daze off, but his eyes remained focused. My respect for the man grew, and I realized he had gained his position for a good reason.

"Do you think that's it?" Rowen asked.

"No," I shook my head, "Most species are too smart or noticeable to fit. They would either know better than to attack a camp or have already overrun it entirely. Besides, no creature I know of can control this many disparate species."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Huh," Rowen grunted, "What about mages? Could you do that?"

"It...is possible, but I doubt it. Taming a magical creature is slow and tricky. It requires a familiar bond, basically a magical contract, and those take months. I doubt any mage would go through that effort to lose them in some half-cocked attack."

Rowen frowned, "What's your second idea?"

I paused, debating how much to say before deciding on honesty, "Something is wrong with the forest. The animals are starved, but not of food but mana, the energy that drives magic."

"But we aren't mages. Why attack us?"

I gestured vaguely, "Every living thing has at least a little mana inside it. Mages are just able to gather and use it. Additionally, these mines are close to a nexus of-" I caught myself and decided to spare the man, "There is a lot here, both in the air and in people. The animals want it and are willing to attack to get it."

Despite my words, Rowen seemed...nonplussed. His expression had barely changed, though I noticed his frown had grown a fraction. It took me only a moment to put together the pieces.

"You knew all of this already."

Rowen sat back and rubbed his eyes, "Yeah, I did. When things started gettin' worse, I set some hunters out to the forest. They came back and said the beasts out there looked skinny. Too skinny for springtime. When they got real bad, I started pesterin' the mages. One of 'em said the same things you did."

"And the nobles of Aresford did not care?"

Rowen's laugh was brief and harsh, "You know how much these mines pump out a day? Hundreds of pounds at least. I lose a half-dozen or more people every day. Most o' us can barely walk or breathe when we retire. But as long as the mines keep workin', that's all that matters. The city depends on it. We depend on it."

I held back the scowl that threatened to show on my face. Even putting aside the immorality of it, the situation was wasteful. A purely logical mind could see that solving a problem was better if you could. After all, a wound left untreated festered.

But the truth was there was nothing more I could do. And more than that, I had things I needed to accomplish before the day was out.

After a few seconds, I asked, "Were you able to find me a spear?"

"Yeah, the guards outside can get you one. Just tell 'em I sent you," Rowen replied, "Y'know, you keep sayin' you're just an apprentice, but you don't act like one. Sounds like you've done this before. Orderin' and askin' questions and such."

Truthfully, I had been trying to mimic Girem's tone and demeanor. Rather than explain as much, I nodded and stood.

"Now, how much do you recall about your trip into the forest?" I asked, "I have some time until dusk, so I might as well make them productive."

----------------------------------------

Mana pulsed beneath my feet in a steady heartbeat as I walked through ice, snow, and undergrowth. I exhaled and pushed, trying to search deeper to follow the currents, letting the ley line and the Aether within guide me through the forest.

And I walked directly into a branch.

I spat out pine needles and opened my eyes to scowl at the offending branch. It waved back in what I would swear was a taunt, and I whacked at it with the spear held in one hand. The singular advantage of my singular expedition into the forest was privacy. At least no one else saw such an embarrassing sight.

Sensing mana was a nightmare to master. Months of constant, dedicated practice had extended my reach and sensitivity, but I had both literal and figurative miles to go. Cutting off other senses was a shortcut to bolster my precision, but it left me wide open to mundane risks. In this case, a burning face and a mouthful of plants.

I glanced up to the sky, trying to gauge how long until dusk I had before walking to a nearby tree. I pulled the knife from my belt, carved a single rune for "home" or "sanctuary" into the bark, then placed my free hand against it and pushed. Mana flowed from my core into the curving lines, which flashed bright green as my will flooded into the pseudo-enchantment.

Enchanting was a skill of four parts: a rune, mana, a substrate such as copper or silver to hold the mana, and enough willpower to drive the process. A mage with enough experience, power, or skill could omit components, which carried downsides, but generally, the best enchanters used all four.

Moreover, all enchantments and spells degraded over time. Eventually, they stopped working. A skilled enough enchanter could precisely measure that decay rate, and some specialized in examining and repairing these damaged objects.

I was leaning on a combination of two factors. By purposefully omitting a substrate, my mana would not anchor properly to the rune. The enchantment would degrade over time, but at an accelerated rate, which should create a trail of elevated Aether I could follow.

In theory.

I already had ideas to pursue if this worked, but for now, it was a backup plan to keep my bearings. I also noted my direction, watched the sun's angle to keep my bearings, tracked my approximate distance, purposefully cut down branches and upturned snow, and carved arrows to indicate my passage.

After an hour of following this ley line, Rowen's directions, and my notes, I found nothing besides frustration. He had done little to narrow my search, which meant I was stumbling near-blind and hoping to find my prize.

However, I could detect a faint increase in Aether as I traveled westward. That could mean I-

There was a shiver on the edge of my senses as something beyond sight or smell touched my mind. I froze and cast my focus out, stretching it as far as possible and scanning for mana. A dozen ambient flavors warred for attention, but as I searched, I found an elevated concentration. It was at the edge of my range and appeared to be moving toward me.

I spun and spotted a nearby tree. It was thick around the middle with low-hanging branches covered in thin, green, needle-shaped leaves. I stuffed my spear into the spatial pouch still on my hip, ran towards the tree, and jumped, stretching my hands as high as possible. One wrapped around the icy bark, but the second slipped. There was a moment where I hung, scrambling with both feet against the slick trunk before I managed to find purchase.

The moment I pulled myself up onto the branch, I crawled closer to the trunk before climbing higher. I had to move slowly, and each movement sent my heart racing as the tree shifted and swayed. Finally, when I was about fifteen feet above the ground, I pushed my back to the bark and focused inward. It took precious seconds to tug on my mana and activate my gift from Amelia.

Then, I pulled any lingering dregs of power deep into my core, tried to calm my breathing, and waited.

A minute, maybe two, passed before I heard it draw close. Branches and snow crunched, and there was a shuffling noise that reminded me of a dog. However, as it came closer, I realized it was bigger. Much bigger.

A wolf, wide as a man and nearly as tall, emerged between the trees to the south-west. Dense gray fur covered its body, its paws wider than my fists, and its head hung low. Although I could not see them, I suspected its mouth contained massive, razor-sharp fangs strong enough to punch through my skull in one bite.

Slowly, it walked closer to me, and I felt its mana pulse in a steady rhythm. Though it had the same strangely weak signature of energy bound to flesh, it felt too weak. I noticed the leanness of its body, and its posture looked almost slumped.

Any musings on potential weakness vanished as it suddenly tensed. Its head hung lower to the ground, and I could hear its breathing deepen. It moved a few steps closer to the tree and raised its muzzle to smell where my boots had scraped just minutes earlier.

I moved slowly, inching my hand towards the pouch by my side. I slipped it into the opening, wrapped my fingers around the spear shaft, and waited. As the beast smelled around my hiding place, I considered whether to attack or not.

Wolves could not climb trees usually, but this was an unfamiliar magical species. If it could get to me, it might be best to ambush it now. My core had nearly refilled since the fight earlier, but I would rather avoid another battle if possible.

Then, the wolf lowered its head again and continued its slow wanderings. I kept my breathing as low and quiet as possible, waiting at least five minutes until the beast vanished entirely from my senses in a vaguely northern direction.

I had hoped Amelia's ring might help remove any odor from me, confusing even a beast's sense of smell, but truthfully, it was a gamble. Although I knew I had to take risks to find the pool, that had been a little too close for comfort.

The sun overhead had begun its slow descent towards the western sky, and I warred against common sense before sighing. Unfortunately, the best I could hope for tonight was disappointment.

I climbed back to the forest floor, retrieved the spear from my bag, and headed back towards the camp. Despite the failure, I felt my resolve harden. Sooner or later, I would succeed. I had no other choice, after all.