It was difficult for Arwinthall to pick just one or two items to bring with him. He became sentimental while sorting through his things, and he even wanted to bring along some of his unfinished sculptures.

"We have to carry everything on our backs," T'faide said, looking at the small mountain of personal effects and artwork. "I don't know if even a bear could drag along all of this."

"They're important," the elf insisted.

"They're heavy," Niasha replied.

Arwin blushed and excused himself. "I'm going to go ask Tuwalia if I can borrow her magic bag."

He returned with a strangely stretchy grey sack, which he started loading things into. T'faide quickly noticed that the bag could hold more than it should possibly have been able to.

"How can it hold so much?"

"It's a magic bag," Arwinthall answered. "It's made from the stomach of a rare magical beast. The inside is a small separate space. If you rip any holes in it, it won't work anymore, so be careful."

"That's amazing…"

Elves ended up collecting rare things like that just because they lived so long.

"Even with a magic bag," Niasha chided, "I don't think you should bring all of that. You didn't even make those paintings or that silk, did you?"

"No, I traded with the others for them."

"So why are you bringing them?"

Arwin held up one of the paintings: a beautiful landscape of a forested waterfall, small fey playing in the foreground. "Isn't it pretty?"

"It is, yes…"

He smiled and put the painting inside the magic bag. "I think so too. And there are people who will pay a lot of coins for something elves think is pretty."

"Don't you already have coins?" Niasha asked.

"It's not like they rot. It can't hurt to have more of them."

For the most part, Niasha used the three days to rest. Skipping just one night of sleep would throw off a person's internal rhythm for several days after. Having a third person to help keep watch would really be helpful once they started off again.

The rest of her time was spent on organizing things they would need for the long trip and stuffing them into Arwin's magic bag.

T'faide spent the three days studying runes and consulting the elves about his magic.

"It's no kind of magic I've ever seen before," said Raulyn, T'faide's great grandmother on his father's mother's side. She looked like an elegant dame in her sixties despite being so many centuries old.

Incidentally, Raulyn was young for an elvish great grandmother, since Arwinthall was barely forty when T'faide was born, just barely an adult by elfish standards.

"But these runes feel familiar…" the old woman hummed.

"I discovered my first arcane rune after learning Druidic," T'faide said.

Raulyn nodded her head. "Their concepts have some similarities. However, Druidic is meant to allow conversations between man and nature. It's an equal exchange. The exchange you make with this 'arcane script,' on the other hand, is quite different."

"How so?"

T'faide had the same feeling, but he had yet to put it to words. He was glad he had the chance to borrow the wisdom of elves after human druids had forsaken him and his "heretical" magic.

"These runes have no mind behind them, no emotion. There can be no relationship because the only will in the exchange is yours." The old woman stroked her chin. "Have you tried weaving multiple runes together, as we do for the Druidic language?"

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"Only two or three at a time. I can produce more complicated magical effects that way. Like summoning fog instead of a ball of water. At least I know it's possible: that's why I call it a script."

Raulyn hummed. "Script is a good word; I wouldn't call these arcane runes collectively a language. As I said, there is no communication happening. It's more like weaving, where the intention is to construct something out of smaller parts and a fixed process."

"Weaving…"

"Think on it more, little one. I look forward to seeing what sort of progress you'll have made after a few decades of practice."

***

Once the three days were up, the family of three set off toward the nearest city the elves were aware of. Arwinthall hummed to himself while leading the way. Niasha had insisted she watch over the magic bag. It wasn't heavy considering it contained all of their things, but it did weigh a bit resting against her back.

The walking was pleasant. Unlike before, when T'faide and his mother had to press on while pushing leaves and branches out of the way, the forest greenery submitted itself to Arwin. Branches moved aside, and roots leveled the soil for their passage.

The only downside was that he led them along a path where they wouldn't step on any fragile sprouts, and so it ambled more than it needed to. Overall, they still saved time.

They came upon a large clearing filled with wildflowers and a gently bubbling spring. Niasha sighed in relief and fished their canteens out of the magic bag.

"This is a good chance. Let's replenish our water here."

Before she could walk out into the clearing, several long tree branches blocked her path. Niasha raised a brow at Arwinthall, who tugged anxiously at the tip of his ear.

"I… I mean… stepping on the flowers would be…"

He continued to flush and shrink under his lover's incredulous gaze, and their son sighed.

"I can make water with magic anyway. We'll be fine."

His mother's frown lessened. "Ah, that's right. I'm not used to that yet."

"That's the amazing thing about your magic," Arwin said cheerfully, letting the branches return to normal. "You can create something that didn't exist before."

"I've seen Adl'gar create a river in midair," the boy replied. "It seems to me that most magic can create things."

"Nonsense," Arwinthall chuckled and shrugged. "When you conjure water with nature magic, you pull and condense it from nearby sources like the air or nearby plants and animals. Nature has to willingly comply, so there's not much risk of drying somebody up, but it's much harder to use water magic in a desert. Bardic song magic works the same way since it's just borrowing a fey or a spirit's innate nature magic. Until now, religious magic was the only kind of magic that could create something out of nothing."

"Maybe a cleric could give me some advice on how to use my arcane magic then. I still essentially use it to emulate nature magic, but I'm sure it can do more."

"Maybe." Arwin smiled brightly, "they live in buildings called shrines, I think. We'll try to find one when we get to the city."

Niasha cleared her throat, "Which we won't manage anytime soon if we don't keep moving."

"S-sorry." Arwin blushed and pressed his fingertips together bashfully, and another path soon opened up in the foliage for them to pass through.

***

Thankfully, the elves' love of plants didn't prohibit the making of camp fires. Arwinthall and T'faide searched around for dead branches and grass while Niasha set up their tent, which they had borrowed from the elven village, made of thin metal poles and animal skin.

T'faide's mother started fishing for the spark rocks, but her son stopped her. "I can do it. Look, I've been practicing."

He carved the rune for ignition onto a stick and tossed it into the kindling. His magic activated the rune, and the fire started to come to life.

Niasha hummed, assessed the control and safety of the small fire spell, and nodded.

"Good."

A bird landed on a tree nearby, and was promptly whiplashed by a nearby branch, dying instantly and falling to the forest floor. Arwin collected it with a pleased look and began preparing the fowl for roasting.

Compared to how gentle they were with plants, it sometimes looked like elves hated animals. That probably wasn't the case…

While cooking, Arwinthall struck up a conversation about arcane magic with his son.

"Say, you activate your runes with magic, don't you? How much magic does each of them use?"

"I don't have an exact measure," the boy said unsurely. "Fire and Ignition both use about the same amount. They both use a little more than Water does."

"Does it cost less if you draw the runes smaller?"

"That's… no, it doesn't."

But why didn't it? If his magic was filling the rune to activate it, wouldn't the size of the rune be relevant?

It was a puzzle for another day, though. T'faide was quite tired after walking the whole day, so he was surprised when his father was the first to fall asleep: crawling onto a hide blanket and passing out practically the moment they'd finished their dinner.

"He was using magic all day," Niasha whispered, laying a blanket over her lover's slim body. "It must've been tiring."

The boy nodded, recalling how heavily he slept after a day of practicing magic.

"I can take the morning watch," T'faide offered.

His mother snorted. "We'll see which of you manages to wake up in time for it, if either of you do."