The logistician that spoke with Faye told her that they had organised packs for the three of them with the assumption they were going to be absent for a week. The packs were thick canvas rucksacks built around a solid metal frame. Sturdy, but heavy. The logistician promised her that she would get used to the weight quickly.
“I have been authorised to grant you access to a stone of recall,” the logistician said, his nasal voice dripping with disapproval. “I must warn you that in order for it to take all three of you, you must be in physical contact. Activating the stone will immediately bring you to town square, there is no delay, there is no chance to rethink your choice. Do not activate the stone unless you truly wish to leave.”
Faye nodded. “I remember. Thank you.”
The man sniffed. “Hmm. As for the supplies, I suggest that you strongly ration your food. Eating a quarter of one cake per day is… possible.”
“But not pleasant,” said one of the nearby workers. “Drink plenty of water.”
Faye nodded, Ailith had complained about all travel-cake diets more than once. Faye was sure she could handle it for a week.
Taveon bustled into the room, wearing his potion bandoleer, though a couple of the loops held rolls of paper instead, this time. He grinned as he saw Faye waiting.
“Are you ready?”
“As I can be,” she replied. “Though I can’t help but feel that the Administrator is overcompensating when it comes to my requests.”
Taveon nodded, his grin widening. “Oh, I would say that’s the case. She desperately wants you to help the Guild, and the town, with her request. Can’t do that if you’re worried about something you wanted to do, and she did not let you.”
Faye hummed. She was not so sure of that. But, being treated as important was definitely a nice change.
Can’t get too used to it, though. About to leave and head toward a place no one has heard of me… again.
Before she could drag herself into the mire of those thoughts, Faye shook herself and indicated the packs.
“Alright, old man, let’s see if you can carry your share of the weight.”
“I’ve been carrying backpacks since before you were born, girl! Give me that.”
Faye stifled a laugh as the Schoolmaster eagerly pulled on the backpack’s strap to hoist it onto his back. The look of surprise even elicited a grin from the nasally logistician. But, sparing Taveon from more embarrassment, Faye simply helped him steady it on his back before pulling on her own heavier-than-it-looks burden.
When it came to Gavan’s pack, he insisted on repacking when he arrived. The logistician tried to argue with the mage, but Gavan would not have it. He eventually shooed the man away with waves of his hands.
“They always manage to pack these in a way that pokes into my back,” the mage muttered. “Prefer to pack them myself.”
Faye shuffled under the straps; it seemed her pack was fine, but she would not interrupt what seemed to be a habit of the mage.
“All right, when we’re ready, let’s go. Sooner we leave, sooner we’re back.”
“I am not sure that’s true…” Taveon said with a frown.
Faye waved a hand. “It is if you don’t examine the logic too hard. Meet you outside!”
----------------------------------------
There was a good reason to move on quickly. Faye was starting to think about what they were setting out to do. The ‘waiting’ portion of any journey was always the worst part. Thinking about what she was about to attempt was terrifying.
Last time she had been near this spectre, it had almost killed her, and it was pure, unadulterated luck that she had survived the encounter.
If what the others had said about the other adventurer team that had gone into the mountains was true, others had not been so lucky.
But now, on the road toward the mountains, Faye told Taveon and Gavan everything she remembered about the spectre.
“It appeared out of nowhere. It spoke. Don’t remember what it said, other than terrifying me out of my freaking mind.”
They were walking at a steady, but not breakneck, pace away from the town — Lóthaven already dipping behind the hills and trees behind them. The air was chilled, but walking would quickly get their blood pumping enough that they were unlikely to feel the chill.
Taveon nodded as Faye spoke. “It is not too rare for spectral monsters to be able to perform limited communication with their prey. Of course,” he said, “I cannot be certain what level of true intelligence they possess.”
“Limited,” Gavan said, “in our, I mean the team’s, experience anything that imitates life like a spirit is only a pale shadow of true life.”
Taveon nodded. “There are scholars that would argue with you on the definition of spectres versus spirits, one of which, they say, is a physical manifestation of mana in the form of a spirit, whilst the other is the life force, or anima, of true life.”
“Wait,” Faye interrupted, “say anima again.”
“Hmm?” Taveon said. “It is óg.”
He said it with a long oh sound, and Faye nodded. “Alright, óg, I can remember that. What was the other word?”
“Labh, which is spectre. It’s a monster spirit, though some might use it in a less malevolent manner than that.”
Faye nodded. Activating [Mana Sense], she flicked her gaze at the woods around the path as they moved farther from the town. The roads, or as was the case for the westward route, the paths surrounding Lóthaven were regularly checked and freed of nearby monsters. The wildlife in the area had learned not to stray near the signs of human life.
Of course, that might have changed with the Primalists’ attack.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The Administrator had assured them that the majority of the Primalists had been seen off to the north, not the west, but it was not completely beyond reason that they would head in this direction.
Either way, the woods on either side of the path were clear of incongruous mana. Gavan and Taveon had continued discussing the difference between a spectre and a spirit, a discussion of minutiae that Faye did not have the patience for.
Following the directions the Guild had provided for them, the trio made their way further into the mountains west of Lóthaven.
----------------------------------------
Faye’s hands were cold enough to have gone numb but by some quirk of her new strength, she was still able to reach up and grab the stone ledge and pull herself up and over onto the narrow spit of rock.
Frozen wind swirled around her, biting the tips of her ears and nose. She sniffed and turned back to offer her hand to Taveon who was close behind.
No matter the old man’s age, he was still a higher level than Faye and had attributes to match. It meant that whilst he complained more often of stiffness in his joints, he was as capable as either of the younger two.
Good thing, too, Faye thought as she hauled him over the edge. It’s getting worse.
Faye waited a few moments for Gavan to get close enough to grab. Taveon helped as well, and the mage was standing next to them in a few steady movements.
“Gods,” Gavan breathed, “this is exhausting.”
“It’s a good thing we encouraged you to train more, then,” Faye said, half-seriously. The mage was able to do everything that Faye and Taveon were doing, which was the key. She had a feeling that he was tiring much quicker than any of them, though.
“Why exactly are we climbing cliff faces, again?”
Faye looked up to the next ledge she could see. “Because the Guild cartographers told us that though it’s a little risky—”
“A little!” Gavan said, laughing.
“—it is much quicker than taking the old road, which circles whole mountains to reach the western side.”
Taveon shrugged, his nose and cheeks were bright red making him look like a thinner Father Christmas, a jolly grandfather. “It is not so bad, but I would love a hot drink.”
Faye nodded. “Me too, but let’s keep going. We still have a few hours of daylight and I want to find somewhere out of the wind before we camp.”
The others nodded fervently.
Flicking on [Mana Sense] again, Faye searched the mountainside for signs of anything living; beast, monster, or natural occurrence, she was not sure what she might see.
As they climbed higher, the background colour of mana subtly changed. It was not something she was able to put her finger on. A quality of the mana, perhaps?
“Do either of you have [Mana Sense]?” she asked.
Gavan nodded. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
She gestured around them. “The mana here feels different somehow, but I can’t put my finger on why.”
Gavan looked left and right, turning slowly to look around at the vista before them. The mountain itself was cold grey stone, broken by occasional tufts of coarse, hardy grasses. But, behind them were the foothills and forests surrounding Lóthaven.
The trees clustered around the base of the mountain, and there were others that crawled up the slopes in evergreen cloaks of colour. This particular behemoth was bare of trees, which was one of the reasons the Guild had suggested its path.
Gavan nodded. “Yes. I sense a difference in the ambient mana. Lack of forest, perhaps.”
“Will it affect my magic?” she asked.
“No,” Taveon said, “it should not, only incredibly drastic ambient mana differences can do that. There are mana deserts, or the mana wastes, to be wary of. The closest is months of travel distant.”
Faye gave the man a look. “I probably don’t have to worry about them too much, then.”
“Indeed.”
“Alright, that’s enough of a rest. We’ll freeze if we stand still too long.”
Each of them turned back to the stoneface and pulled themselves up in a gruelling climb that only got harder the higher they went.
----------------------------------------
Faye looked out over the mountain range with awe. It was beautiful. The wind whipped her hair around violently, and the snow that had fallen here risked turning her toes black and blue, but it was worth it for that view.
In the distance, the sun had crowned the other mountains in red and orange light. Sparkling between some of the peaks, they could only just make out the light on the waves of the sea due to the particularly clear day.
“It’s gorgeous,” Faye said. “I don’t think I’ve seen something like it before. Not in person.”
Taveon hummed his agreement.
“Once,” Gavan said, “I saw something that rivalled this. The green fields of Emerel. It was a different kind of beauty.”
These rugged highlands were untamed. Everywhere they looked was empty of human habitation.
Pulling back from the view eventually, the trio sat in the lee of the rock shelf they had stumbled across. The overhang gave them some protection, but it was the half-sheared boulder that created a corner for them to huddle into that they were most grateful for.
They had collected a few pieces of firewood before leaving the treeline, earlier. Bundling it together and attaching it to their packs had not been an issue, so they were able to create a small pool of warmth and heat snow for drinks.
Each of them used their pack for a seat, wrapping a thick cloak around their shoulders as they sat and shared cups of a herbal tea. It packed a heat that was not just from the water, but a spice that rooted deep inside Faye’s belly and took hold, pushing back some of the chill she had developed since stopping their climb.
“This is good,” she said.
“Popular amongst adventurers,” Taveon said, nodding to Gavan. “I never got used to its taste, but I need something warm.”
Faye had always liked trying new teas and blends.
Letting the warmth seep through her, Faye cast her mind to the topics that she was eager to ask the two men who could best operate as magic tutors.
“Alright,” she said, “say I want to learn another spell…”
“Hah!” Taveon exclaimed, holding out a palm to Gavan, who begrudgingly fished out a coin from his belt pouch and handed it over. “Thank you, master mage.”
“Could have waited an hour before asking,” Gavan muttered.
“Are you really betting on me asking questions?!”
“Of course! Easiest money I ever made,” Taveon said, grinning. “Now, you were saying?”
Faye laid out some of the thoughts she had been having on magic and the path her class would take her on. So far, she had learned only spells in a similar group. They were geared towards destruction. Her class name suggested that offensive spells would be her forte, but she was interested in defence and utility as well.
Taveon and Gavan were both spellcrafting enthusiasts, though Gavan clearly had the edge in the art. Taveon was more used to informing younger, and therefore less experienced, people of the vagaries of magic and the system and was able to smooth out some of the explanations Gavan gave.
Of course, none of them really knew what Faye’s class would hold for her. It was something she would need to explore herself, unless there were Spellswords in the city.
“I would not plan on it,” Taveon said. “Though a city, and much larger than Lóthaven, Nóremest is still only a province capital. The Guild there may have more information for you, but I would not pin your hopes on there being a teacher for you.”
Faye shrugged. “I will make do until I can find one.”
“There is a Machlél library in the city,” Gavan said. “They will have information at the very least.”
Taveon looked surprised. “There is?”
Gavan nodded. “A small, recent enterprise.”
“Should I know what a Machlél is?” Faye asked.
“It’s a who, not a what,” Taveon said, “as they are an organisation of libraries and knowledge repositories across the land. They gather and, for a fee, disseminate knowledge.”
It sounded like a good place to look, if nothing. But, pulling the men back onto the topic at hand, Faye carried on asking about specific uses of mana and spells, well into dusk and beyond.
She offered to take the first watch. Truth be told, she was too excited to sleep. Thoughts were running rampant through her mind, and she wanted some time to meditate and decompress before giving herself over to sleep.
There was also the other thing at the back of her mind.
The fear.
What if it kills me, then hurts Gavan or Taveon?
Or the other one.
What if I kill it, but the bane stays?
Swallowing down the sick sensation, Faye focused on the ideas for new spells and mana workings she had discussed with the others and concentrated on her meditation. Soon enough, she shook Gavan awake for his watch. He blinked twice and then was fully awake.
“Notice anything?” he whispered.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just added a fresh branch, good night.”
“Sleep well.”
With the fire at her back, scrunched into the bedroll as tightly as she could, Faye slowly drifted into slumber. Worried about what the next few days would bring.