Complete darkness covered the forest. Seb lied down, pretending to sleep. Pfft, as if relaxing would even be possible. He had watched too many horror movies to feel comfortable sleeping with dark silhouettes all around him.

His eyes gazed at the snoring Raziel. He lied unmoving, but despite sleeping, he managed to keep his heatstone active. Seb couldn't do that, not yet.

Over the evening he had drawn a few conclusions on the heatstone glyphs. They worked no matter where they were activated. They also heated up everything around them, not just Seb's perception of coldness. Thus, he had debunked both the drug theory and the illusion theory. The glyph in his hand was at least a revolutionary piece of technology. Secretly, he hoped that it was more than that.

An activation system, so intricate that Seb had no idea of what it was. He thought of some clips from the weird side of the internet. The ones on QiGong masters who "made" electricity from their qi. Was the glyph trigger related to those kinds of things? Seb couldn't come up with any good explanation, and quite frankly, it would be much cooler if the answer to it was as simple and incredible as "magic."

Magic or just a piece of revolutionary technology, the Stone resting in his hand was probably worth millions would it reach society. If each and every leather dressed wackhead had one of these, the financial An organization with this budget and secrecy was no doubt Illuminati-level dangerous - 10/10!

Less of the theories, back to reality. Seb rose up, preparing to take a piss. Maybe he'd decide to go a bit longer than that; maybe he wouldn't stop until dawn.

***

Raziel woke on high alert. His detection glyph sent pulses through his left hand, enough to make it jitter. He disliked sleeping unsheltered, but the situation demanded it. Before buying the detection glyph, he usually slept in treetops when outside, damn how uncomfortable that was. Anyhow, the detection glyph tingled whenever something bigger than a rabbit movements within a 20-metre radius. It didn't leave much time for action, but it was enough; Raziel always slept with his sword to his side.

He immediately recognized the elfling sneaking away from the site, probably taking a piss. Raziel followed him with his eyes. Sebastian hadn't heard enough to compromise things, was he to return to his masters. But the thought of Sebastian leaving still left a bad taste in Raziel's mouth. He couldn't let go of a chance to get a new village mage; not when his village so desperately needed one.

Even since the death of Runar, the village struggled to its knees. They barely made it through the last winter. With no buffers left in the granaries, a single bad harvest would equal the death of hundreds.

Damn Becknettles! They cut Runar's throat without warning. Even pigs died with more dignity. They claimed to uphold order by killing the"rogue elfling," but petty words couldn't mask their real face. Using Runar as an excuse, they had raided the entire village, leaving the granaries empty, women raped and opposers crippled. Raziel hated them, and he hoped that his feelings were shared with Sebastian.

The elfling wasn't hard to track; his steps were slow and clumsy, his heat stone never off. "City Boy" was written all over him. Memorizing the forest floor, Raziel followed Sebastian into the darkness.

The elfling went for a piss. As expected; he had emptied Raziel's waterskin more than once earlier. He was clearly not used to rehydrating either. Raziel felt sorry for him. His former master hadn't even given him any lifembers, leaving his with a weakling body all up in the adult years. Just what did he expect the elfling to do? Raising an elfling improperly to then do what? Cull it?  Sebastian's former master couldn't be anything but a maniac; the Becknettles sure knew how to waste their own and others' resources.

The elfling urinated without stopping. How much water had he drunk earlier, really? The second before high alert, Raziel was borderline impressed with the other's bladder. Then it happened. His detection glyph flared up, causing ominous spasms through his left hand. Raziel regretted not having brought a spear. A sword in the woods was as useful as a fork was to eating of soup. He had to defend the mage. If Sebastian just had a spell or two, this would've been so much easier. 

***

This was probably the most impressive water throwing Seb had ever done. He smiled a bit, but it was hard to quench the seriousness of his thoughts. Should he leave? Raziel seemed like a nice guy, but he wasn't entirely normal either. If running was the case, then doing so in the forest was out of the question. The place gave him the creeps. And that was just a few tens of meters from the forest rim. Running would mean food issues though. Seb hadn't eaten during his week in the wagon. He was pretty sure that following Raziel meant a full stomach...

"STAY READY!" Raziel shouted, freezing Seb's breath. Piss stained his "clothes" as he turned around, but that wasn't important. Raziel's voice was that of someone trying to prevent a car crash.

A blinding light ignited, even illuminating the closest trees. Raziel held the flaring light in his right hand, in his left-hand was a sword. Startled, Seb deactivated his heatstone. He wanted his full attention ready. Sword guy screaming in the middle of the night didn't bode well. Then he saw them, shadows prowling in the shadows.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," the half naked Sebastian stammered as he backed away towards Raziel.

"Hold this; I can't fight using it," Raziel commanded him, sluggishly. He handed over the brightly shining stone.

Without questioning, Seb grabbed it. The contrast in light blinded him as the glyph deactivated. Grasping for the "hungry" rune on it, Seb quickly had the glyph brightly shining again.

Warning! Mana Channeling over 90% -  Cognition severely affected! Mana Channeling: 0.9/1

As soon as things lit up again, the world got all sluggish to Sebastian. A blue window appeared in front of him, but he ignored it; he didn't have time to be concerned about hallucinations right now and besides, the text felt very hard to read.

He could barely make sense out of the world around him, it all felt as if moving too fast. It was like watching an ancient 240p movie, shot by a shaking hand on an old Nokia cell phone, and then making it fast forward. Panic hit Seb. He couldn't tell what was happening. Shapes moved, sometimes in the shadows, sometimes in complete darkness. For a brief second, Seb saw Raziel, or at least his legs. His torso and arms were all blurry. Surrounding him were shadows, too fast to make sense out of.

Seb tried to make sense out of what was happening, but he didn't dare to compromise the glyph in his hand; everything around felt like a goo of overwhelming impressions.

"Pat" Something nudged him. The glowing glyph escaped his hand and was somehow replaced by a heatstone. The heatstone's light was nothing like the one it replaced.

Warning! Mana Channeling over 50% - Cognition affected! Mana Channeling: 0.6/1

"You're safe" Raziel wheezed, sweat dancing on his face. He stashed the light glyph, replacing it with the mysterious one he had slept with. The sword remained in his left hand though, glimmering of black blood. He took a staggering step before sitting down.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Put some light on my leg, will you?" Raziel hissed, teeth visible. As Seb moved his heatstone closer, an ugly wound revealed itself on Raziel's calf. It was a bite mark, big and deep.

"Hold it for a second," Raziel handed over his sword to Seb.

He put a stick in this mouth. "Damn I'm lucky to have you as Wife..." was the last thing he miss-mumbled before biting down on the piece of wood. A small pouch of leather appeared in his hand. He pressed out its viscous contents, rubbing them into his wound. Then he screamed.

Seb looked at the agonized man, crawling in pains. The sword was his hand, as was both his and the other's life. The responsibility was burdensome; he doubted that he'd be able to put the steel to any use, would the shadows be back. Heck, they could probably get within a jump's distance before He'd even notice them. The heatstone wasn't that bright. No matter the scale of the doubts, he stood firm, preparing to strike at anything approaching.

The screaming went on, sending chills through Seb's spine. Eventually, they subsided. Raziel panted exhaustedly.

"How's...my leg?" He asked worriedly as if half an hour of screaming would've made it any better. Oh, fuck, Seb hadn't put on anything to stop the man from bleeding out. He hurriedly lit up the leg for a status check, wondering whose clothes he'd use for a band-aid.

He couldn't believe his eyes, as he stared at the bloody calf.

"Tell me, is it healed already! Or do I need to give it another rub of salve? Damn, I don't know if I can take it."

"It's, eeh, its healed," Seb responded, not believing his own words. The surface was smooth; there wasn't even a scratch on it. Only lumps of almost coagulated blood.

"Thank the Gods! Fuck. I hate healing! Phew! Fuck!"

"What... how did you heal it?"

"With a bloody healing salve of course. What did you think!?... Sorry for being harsh. I... I really hate healing."

Well, no shit Sherlock.

Seb asked about the attackers. Shadowwolves was the answer. Seb was fairly sure that he'd never seen one of those in a zoo. But hey, in a place where cosplay scientists had created groundbreaking research in both physics and medicine, genetically modified animals weren't far fetched at all. It was like visiting a different world.

The night went on. Somehow, Raziel fell asleep. To Sebastian, though, the night was the longest of his life.

***

Bloody Hell, Shadow Wolves weren't supposed to exist in these areas.  They were meant to hide in the deepest depths of the forest. Hunted by the local overseer. If there was one thing the Becknettles were supposed to do, besides collecting taxes, then it was keeping the forests safe! Raziel regretted not ambushing another one of them before leaving with the elfling. Poor lad, he hadn't had a single strand of sleep this night.

Raziel was pissed and worried, pissed at the Becknettles, as always, but foremost he was worrying for his love. She didn't show up yesterday. Raziel would never forgive himself if something happened to her, not when he was the one responsible.

The morning hours of waiting were unbearable. Seb told him some about his life story, but Raziel couldn't focus. He looked towards the rim of the forest. The summit was unmistakable, Stina couldn't possibly have missed the great oak and the numerous boulders surrounding it.

.

.

Finally, she came. Raziel had had a hundred false alarms when looking into the distance, but this time there was not questioning it. He rose up, running like a madman to meet up with her.

"My love, how did you do? Did anything happen, I as worrying here."

His wife grinned, revealing a pouch filled to the brim with lifember.

"This.. this is..."

"About fifty lifember I'll tell ya!" his wife interrupted his counting. Raziel didn't know if to laugh or to cry. After convincing Raziel to join the heist, she had agreed to set a low-key price. Fifty lifember wasn't remotely close to the word low-key. It was a dubious amount of money.

"They threw weird looks at me; I had to stay the night not to raise any suspicion."

"Stina, this is insane, what if one of the guards there was part of the raid to or village. They might've even recognized you."

"Chill out honey; I put up a great act. They would've paid even more if I wanted them to. You'd be surprised to see how much people area willing to pay for healthcare. Especially for others. The Becknettles would crumb apart if their fancy overseer didn't keep his men safe."

The heist was all her, Stina's, ideal. In their shared hatred of the Becknettles, they had put one and one together. Stina was a mediocre herbalist. Her grandfather had taught her some tricks of the trade, but nothing more. Alchemy had ruined his finances, putting him deep into debt; selling potions required certificates, connections, and other proofs of skill. No one would buy a potion from a stranger, not unless they were in dire straits...

Dire straits were Raziel's specialty. He loved to cut down Becknettles from behind. Regular remedies, like healing salves and general antidotes, were staple products. They had a short expiration date, and efficient use of them required a bulk deal with the closest alchemy guild. All greater towns and powers had a healthy supply of such ailments; they were essential to keep up public opinion after all.

More niche products, on the other hand, were usually made to order. Say that a certain someone happened to have a significant number of tendons severed, then time was of the essence. Mid-sized towns lacking a master alchemist would have to make an order for a sinew restoration salve, but such an order would take weeks, enough for a wound to close, never to fully restore.

Stina just so happened to know how to make one of these sinew restoration potions. It was niche and impossible to store in an economical way. Only the Prefectural Citadels could afford to have such resources at the ready, but they didn't need to; each Citadel had at least one Alchemy guild.  

Anyhow, the heist was straight forward. Stina posed as a wandering alchemist while Raziel cut open a few customers for her. This was their second heist. Raziel had a love-hate relationship with his new occupation. They struck many places, trying not to create any patterns. Raziel had even attacked Becknettles without Stina nearby. All for the sake of safety. Each time he tried to cut people differently, even though he doubted someone was tailing his robberies.

"Who's the elfling?" Stina asked, glancing to the tired looking blonde.

"He's Sebastian; I saved him from our last customer. And guess what?

"What, you tell me? I was hoping for this celebration to be a bit more private ... and intimate."

"I've gotten our village a new mage."

"No way!"

"Yeah way! We've now got a solid 80 lifember under the bed, the harvest is going fine, and we have a village mage. We're finally on the right track!"

"Holy shit, Raziel! This is huge!"

*Kiss*

"But what about his ears and hair. Will the others dare to accept an elfling again?"

"They'll have to. What else can we do? Just look at Ingvar. He can't even run his forge properly anymore. If this continues, we'll not only be without glyphs, but also iron on our shovels. They'll have to accept him."

"I love you so much right now."

"You think he's sleeping? Maybe we could...?"

***

Seb woke up. The sun was setting. Damn, how much he had needed that sleep. It was all night and day, double entendre. The waiting and tiredness had finally beaten the fear of falling asleep. Raziel's assurance of safety had been the hair that fell the camel.  

"Hi, I'm Stina."

Raziel's girlfriend introduced herself. Soon after they began walking.

The two cosplayers still hadn't told him what they were up to or what was going on, but when asked, they assured him that things were all fine and that they were heading back to their village, Softstone. Another medieval town, Sebastian wasn't even surprised anymore. Beyond their friendliness and eagerness to get him with them, he had a feeling that there were strings attached though.

They were a bit too enthusiastic each time they said the word "mage." Magic. Over that past day, Sebastian had fallen in love with it. Technology or supernatural, did it really have to matter?