“Inis gave a blessed vision to those that love her, and this very night I wish to take you to a very important place.” the old man said, shuffling through a tome from his bookshelf. “You’ll go with me somewhere wonderful.”

Rafa had his head rested on the table, chin held up by a fist. He had set his strange, small notebook on the table, and was staring at it, bewildered. “Alright, that’s fine.” He had no fight, no emotion left in him. “But what did you see in your vision concerning the ‘wrong one?’”

“Ah yes, a lake. I saw him come out of a lake. No. A pond.”

“A pond.”

“A small body of water,” Ardler said, nodding.

Rafa squinted, waiting for the old man to continue.

“There is another nearby directly east.” Ardler pointed with his finger toward one window in the cottage. “I will hunt him in the morning. Because, first things first.” He closed the book in his hand, then set it down on the shelf, straightening it before departing.

Rafa’s focus followed the old man as he paced across the room, turning his head as he walked behind him, not allowing him out of sight because of a trust that doesn’t exist, and never will.

Ardler opened a wardrobe, having to extend his arms to full length to pull the doors open. He rummaged around inside. “Quite, this is the one.” He pulled a large black robe from its hanging place, then closed the wardrobe.

“And that is?” Rafa said.

“Yours, lad.” He plodded up to Rafa and handed the dark robe over to him.

“Um, thank you…” Rafa reached out his hand out of courtesy, unwilling to take it. The moment his fingers touched the robe, it flew into the air as if gravity no longer affected it. It spun in a circle above both of their heads, the cloth flapping behind it as it soared.

Ardler’s eyes went wide. “Wha—”

The robe illuminated with bright white light as the notebook on the table flung open. It too lit up. The robe plunged downward, disappearing as it merged with the notebook. The light faded, and the book shut itself.

[Inis Faith Robes] added.

Rafa stood with all limbs tensed, his chair now flung on its back a few feet behind him. “What did you do?”

“Th-that wasn’t me. No.” Ardler said, chest heaving. “You truly are my Inis’s child. I’ve seen nothing like this happen, save a few minor spells.”

“Spells?” Rafa snapped his attention to Ardler.

“Spells,” Ardler replied, saying the word at a snail’s pace—his face oozing condescension. “You can’t cast even one, can you?”

Rafa didn’t reply with anything but a face of shock.

“Can’t read a map,” Ardler said. “Can’t cast spells.”

Rafa skulked over to the notebook, afraid it might act up once more. He prodded it with one hand, but it laid there, still. With a huff, he snatched it, heart wrenching as he gripped onto it tighter than usual without noticing.

“Calm yourself. This isn’t some necromantical spell, boy! It shouldn’t hurt you.”

Rafa opened the book, stopping on the page with many small squares forming a block-like list. And there, at the top left, an icon of a folded dark robe held itself idle. “The robe. It’s here.”

“Some kind of storage spell, I believe?” Ardler said. “Magnificently rare—difficult to find someone that can work with such wizardry.”

“You’re saying that a person enchanted this book?” Rafa said, shaking his head in disbelief. Some type of magic worked in this world, really worked.

“Oh yes, someone powerful. I would say it was my Inis, but she hasn’t materialized in over a thousand years. Perhaps it was one of us.”

“One of her followers.”

Ardler nodded. “Indeed.”

“What do you mean by materialized, exactly?”

The old man smiled, clapping his hands. “You will allow her to take shape in our realm! This land is rightfully hers, you know.” He sighed with relief. “She will look upon me with grace and mercy, love even, when she finds out I’m the one that found you.”

A sudden rush of fear washed over Rafa. Time felt as though it was running out, thinking of Niklas and where he was. Could he have been brought into this world through a pond as well—and if it was close, why not go now?

“Oh, I have something else,” Ardler said, turning and rushing over to a wooden storage chest by the door. He kneeled before it.

“So this pond, where is it again?”

“Straight east. There’s a large boulder we’ll pass that will tell us when we’re close.”

“Tell us?” Rafa said with a shudder. “As in, it talks?”

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Ardler’s head swiveled toward Rafa, eyes squinting. A moment passed where they stared at each other, and nothing else.

“I—I don’t know what’s real anymore,” Rafa said in a vulnerable tone.

Ardler shook his head and returned to searching inside the trunk. “Anyway, this is for you.” He stood with a large knife in its leather sheath.

Rafa’s heartbeat jumped as the old man revealed a razor-sharp blade with a carved wooden handle.

He took a few steps toward Rafa, then placed it back in its holster. “Tie this at your waist. It has many uses.”

Of course. Duh. It’s a knife.

“Thank you,” Rafa said, happy to take a lethal weapon out of the unpredictable, small man’s hands. “But why did you give this to me?”

“I’ll tell you. But first, you’re going to help me carry that tiger outside my house over to the workbench.”

As the night sky bloomed, Rafa lunged backward, yanking the large tiger’s body with him. With one last pull, he fell onto his back, panting. “Okay. It’s done.”

Ardler’s footsteps against dirt and leaf chimed around Rafa’s head as he laid. A large, lit torch mounted to the outside of the old man’s cottage gave just enough light to see the workbench beside the cottage, and the tiger in front of it.

Rafa got to his knees. The thought of bolting eastward toward Niklas crossed his mind, but he had to catch his breath. “What are we doing?”

“I’m going to show you how to skin this foul beast. It’s going to take a few hours, but we have time to spare.”

Time to spare before what?

“Come here. Watch,” Ardler said, putting out his hand. “Hand me the knife.”

Rafa pulled it from its holster. And before second guessing himself, he handed it to the old man as he stood.

“I offer you my teaching, boy.” He raised the weapon like a glass of whiskey, then placed the knife on the throat of the tiger. “Here is where you start.” Ardler grazed the top of the fur down to its tail without making a mark. “This is where you end. From there, it should be a simple sectioning of the animal, wherever you like.”

Rafa cleared his throat. “I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. Why are we even doing this again?”

Ardler handed the large knife back over to Rafa. “It’ll be useful, trust me.”

Another urge to dart away toward the dark forest surged into Rafa’s mind.

“It’ll only take but a few hours to finish,” Ardler said.

“I don’t think I’m able to stomach this—”

Rafa skimmed the tiger’s fur with the knife, only tapping it, an unintentional maneuver while explaining his discomfort. The tiger lit up with the same white light that shone from the Inis robe earlier. And within a moment, it disappeared, leaving behind neatly wrapped skins of leather and meat.

Both of them held their position, motionless, staring at a clean workbench—not a drop of blood anywhere.

Rafa reached out to touch the skins, without words able to escape his open mouth, and wide eyes. As he touched the soft material, the small notebook flung out of his pocket, spinning in the air next to him. It opened, and the skins, along with the meat, shot toward the book, disappearing. The notebook fell to the floor.

“I have no words,” Ardler said. “That’s an ordinary knife. How could you have done such a feat within seconds?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Despite the peculiarity, I am quite enjoying this. Yes! Inis has brought a powerful being here indeed.” Ardler chuckled.

“I’m her child. I get it,” Rafa said. “That explains nothing.”

A rustle in the bushes nearby echoed, twigs snapping on the floor.

Ardler turned to listen. “We should get inside, out of this wild night. But first, I’m curious about one small thing. Come here.” He gestured for Rafa—who was watching the now still bush—to come closer to the workbench. “Can you retrieve those items you just created? The skins preferably.”

Rafa nodded, then picked up the notebook. He opened it to what seemed like his inventory and did the only thing that seemed plausible: he pressed the tip of his finger against the small icon of wrapped skins.

As they materialized with light in the air, the fresh skins fell to the floor next to Rafa, with no motion from the book itself.

“Absolutely magnificent,” Ardler said. “Touch your knife to the materials, and think of leather gloves, maybe.”

Confused but curious, Rafa did as the old man asked.

After a few moments, Ardler broke the silence. “Nothing is happening, as I thought. Now, pick up the skins and put them here on my workbench.”

Again, Rafa did as he asked.

“I know you’ll need some thread,” Ardler said, retrieving some from a reed basket underneath the table.

After placing the items down, Rafa touched the knife to the materials. “There’s no way this works,” he said. “Leather gloves.”

The items on the table sparkled, then merged. The form changed, as if it were being molded right in front of them behind an opaque curtain of blazing fire.

“No way,” Rafa said.

Three pairs of fine leather gloves emerged from the process as the light faded. They sat still on top of each other, a tidy pile of work.

Ardler couldn’t help but beam with happiness. “You said leather gloves, plural.”

“I did, didn’t I.”

The two couldn’t help but gaze at the finished creations, ogling.

Crafting to 5 - Choose a Milestone

Rafa felt a burst of inspiration from the finished designs. He felt an urge to open the notebook.

“What are you doing, boy?” Ardler said.

Without answering, Rafa flipped to the skills page of his small magic journal. After locating the new word crafting, the font was now flashing colors, changing from red to green to blue. He tapped it with the tip of his pointer finger.

“Brell, what are you—”

The notebook jumped and hovered in the air above Rafa’s fingers, flat—pages held open. Above it, suspended in the air, shined three small orbs emerging. Inside the first: an icon of a sword. The second: a shield. The third: a bear trap.

Ardler watched the orbs with excitement as they reflected the light off of his curious, smiling face.

Rafa didn’t feel the need to say anything, as emotion guided him toward a decision within a moment. He reached out and poked the sword orb. The book pulled the orbs back into its pages, then five more emerged. Rafa recognized the simple icons: a piece of jewelry, a staff, a fishing rod, two crossed blades, and a helmet.

“They’re so beautiful,” Ardler said, eyes gleaming.

Rafa touched the helmet, making sense of the situation’s obscurity. Armor. And then the same thing happened: it replaced the previous orbs with new orbs floating in the air.

“The gloves! Pick the gloves,” Ardler said with a childlike tone.

Each orb now presented Rafa with the option to pick from each piece of armor that could fit on his body, from helmet to boots.

“Gloves—”

“Shh,” Rafa said. He poked the orb with a glove icon, then they disappeared as the book shut, all illumination gone with them. Only torchlight remained, flickering from above the workbench.

“So, what happened?” Ardler said, eyeing the book.

“I don’t feel any different.” Rafa opened the book to the skills page, and found a “1” written next to the crafting skill’s name. It shone a faint yellow color, the small number swaying on the parchment.

Ardler inched closer to see within the pages.

Rafa tapped the yellow “1”, and all the ink on the page disappeared, revealing a short sentence at the top.

Rafa smiled out of disbelief. “Permanently imbue gloves you create with increased speed added to all weapons and strikes.”

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” Ardler said, walking over to the table, excited. “You, lad, are definitely something.” He slid a pair of leather gloves over his hands.

Rafa did the same. “They’re so soft.”

“Good craftsmanship, my boy. Quite good. With a magical imbue somehow in every pair? You must be—”

“I’m Inis’s child. Yup,” Rafa said, rolling his eyes.

Ardler nodded and grinned, tapping his temple with his finger. “Now you’re getting it.”