> “The Awakening Stones were the key to keeping the Ronean tradition alive. They were each created by five altruistic Great Wizards who were willing to sacrifice their own ability to use magic in order to grant the abilities to future generations. Each precious stone possesses the ability to awaken one hundred individuals each year to one of the elements used by the creators, enough to sustain a small population of mages in Caldyn, Burgun, Aragille, Variny, and Isaz.”

>

> -Shore Hartley, excerpt from The Ronean Magical Tradition.

Al made his way through the forest back to his family home. The trip that had taken several hours a few weeks earlier only took him an hour going back the other way. It helped that he had many of his heavier belongings in the cabin but the real change was that he had opted to travel at night and use his powers. The core lasted half of the trip before he needed to stop and absorb energy from his surroundings. This process was much faster now too, only taking ten minutes to fill a core that could hold much more energy than he could when he began. The core itself now resembled a dense cloud about to form water droplets. His training had taken his core to the verge of the second stage, a stage that granted a Caldynian mage the right to wear a second circle on their uniforms or formal robes. This would usually take a university mage until the second year to achieve. The cave had been quite the boon.

The stone building was empty, as he had expected. Stripped of anything that was not nailed down, and even some things that were, the house looked nothing like the one he had grown up in. Uncle Timmy and his goons had been thorough. Al was sure that had not retrieved the stash, it would have been taken as well. With a sigh, he walked outside, activated his core, and scaled up the side of the home and onto the roof. It had taken a lot of effort, draining almost a third of his core to adhere himself to the walls, but it had worked. He looked over the forest he had once thought was full of such mystery. Now, it felt more like home than the building below him.

The journey to Flynt was uneventful, though Al noticed his lack of fatigue, even while traveling in the early morning sun. It was another benefit of the core. He had thought his lack of sleep in recent weeks had been due to his extreme focus on learning to use his new abilities but it became clear that his body required less of it now.

Al reached the city in the afternoon and began his investigation. He started with a visit to a local doctor’s office. Under the guise of doing research for a university professor, Al asked if the doctor had heard of any cases of the Purple Death in the city. There was one, a middle-aged dock foreman who died a year earlier, leaving behind at least one daughter.

“Poor girl,” the doctor said ruefully. “I hear she’s working at the Raging Swine now. Dinara, I think her name was”

Al opted not to ask follow-up questions to avoid suspicion. He had enough information to find the girl and get more details.

His next stop was his uncle’s city home, a townhouse in the nicer part of the city. He had been there a few times as a child, though his uncle’s general unpleasantness and vices had his parents cutting off contact with the man as he got older. The building was as he remembered, though a little more run down. It stood out among the pristine houses around it. This had been Al’s grandfather’s house before his uncle had inherited it and not bothered with basic maintenance. A basic walk around had told him that the best way to get inside would be to wait until night and climb up from the back alleyway that lacked any streetlights. He would hold off on any blatantly illegal activities for now. If there were other buildings to investigate and people to question, it might be best to do it all in one night before leaving the city.

Al decided to head to the Raging Swine, an old inn located in the middle of the small city. It was a wooden three-story structure that was clearly built when the city was much smaller. Inside, the first floor was a cozy room with tables and a bar. Mid-afternoon, it was empty except for a small girl wiping down tables. She looked to be twelve years old at the most, a little younger than Al had been when he first started attending the Academy. Her light brown skin told him that one of her parents was likely from the Moku islands. Her light violet eyes confirmed that guess.

“Hello!” the girl said with a bright smile.

“Hi,” Al said, taken aback by the loud greeting. “I’m looking for someone named Dinara. Does she work here?”

“Yep, she’s my sister! I warn you though, she doesn’t like boys bothering her at work. She hit one with a broom last week. It was great!” the girl exclaimed.

“I’m just here to ask her a few questions. If it will make her more willing to talk, I’ll take a room here.” Al said, unsure of how to deal with the energetic child.

“NARA! A boy is here to see you and needs a room. He’s decent-looking but desperately needs a haircut, shave, and a bath,” the girl yelled towards the kitchen behind the bar.

Al sniffed himself and found himself agreeing with the girl.

A pretty but tired-looking girl about Al’s age walked out from the kitchen. She was tall, almost Al’s height, and had long dark curls. With violet eyes and light brown skin, her relation to the other girl was obvious. Al could see why she had to deal with unwanted suitors but could also tell by her expression that that sort of attention was not what she was looking for.

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Dinara was about to say something but paused, looking at Al inquisitively. “You look familiar,” she said with a hint of a northern accent, which was another mystery. “Do I know you?”

Al had been expecting a few different reactions to his presence, but not that one. “I don’t think so?” Al said, unsure of how to respond. Brushing off his confusion, he collected himself and said “I’m Alarik Faber but everyone just calls me Al.”

“I knew you looked familiar,” Dinara said brightly. “Kaya, it’s Saris’ brother, the one who’s going to the University.”

Both girls looked at Al with warm smiles. On the one hand, their friendliness towards him was a good step towards getting more information. On the other hand, he was unsure of how to broach the subject of his brother’s death. Silence betrayed Al’s discomfort.

“You are his brother, right?” The younger girl, Kaya, asked.

“I was. Saris and our parents fell ill with the Purple death a few weeks ago,” Al said, deciding to just get it out of the way.

Kaya looked back at Al as if waiting for him to admit it was a joke. When it was clear that was not going to happen, she burst into tears and ran up the stairs.

Dinara looked at Al with sympathy, unsure of how to continue their conversation. She followed his eyes to the stairs. "She'll be ok. I'll check on her in a bit."

Al relaxed and said “His death is actually part of why I’m here, but I wasn't expecting you to have known my brother. A doctor told me that the disease hit someone in your family as well and I wanted to ask some questions about what happened.” Again, Al had decided that simply being honest was the best path forward.

Dinara walked to the bar and poured two glasses of a dark brown liquid, one for herself and one for Al. She silently passed the glass to him and took a sip from her own. “I’m sorry about your brother,” she finally said with a somber tone. "He was a good man."

“How did you know him?” Al asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“He was a regular, actually. He liked to meet merchants and builders here to discuss timber orders for your family’s business. He liked it better than the stuffy places those guys typically go to. I met him when Kaya and I first came here after our father passed. Kaya was taking it pretty hard but Saris took notice of her and started telling her stories and singing songs. He had a nice voice. Terrible fashion sense though,” she said with the hint of a smile.

“That sounds like him,” Al said, remembering his brother’s ability to brighten the mood in any room he was in as well as his tendency to wear bright, mismatching colors. “Did he teach her how to play cards?”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding exasperated. “She started challenging customers and swindling their money. She’s too clever for her own good.”

The two went silent again as both sipped from their drinks, waiting for the other to continue the conversation.

Finally, it was Dinara who broke the silence. “Saris told us a lot about you, Al. I’m sure some of it is even true,” she said with a wry grin. Shifting to a serious tone, she added, “He was really proud of his kid brother getting into the Academy and being at the top of his class. He was really excited for you to go to the University and be the first mage in your family. He made sure to tell everyone.”

“Thanks,” Al said with his voice cracking. A part of him was really proud of his older brother who had made a positive impact on the life of a little girl in need. But, he was a little bit jealous. These people had spent more time with his brother over the last year than he had. It was a silly thought, he knew, but it was hard to get it out of his head.

After finishing his drink and then a second, Al got his bearings and told Dinara about how he found out about his family’s illness and how his uncle had acted in the aftermath. “The whole thing just feels wrong”, he said. Maybe you think I'm chasing false leads to avoid accepting that what happened was just a random tragedy-”

“I don’t think that,” Dinara interrupted. “And I don’t think what happened to my father was a random tragedy either. Powerful people had a lot of gain from my Dad going away. He and the dock workers were trying to organize a strike to get better pay and work conditions. My dad was sort of the voice for their little movement. With him dead, it fell apart. The timing was too convenient. I even went to the city police and they brushed me off as some crazy girl spewing conspiracy theories without evidence.” she blurted out as if she had been holding onto these words to the point of bursting.

“Do you think it’s possible that every case of Purple Death is some sort of assassination attempt?” Al asked.

“Yes. I did what you are doing now and looked into a few other cases. What I found was troubling. Every death in the last year or two had someone with something to gain for it. There was a family with an inheritance dispute in Timen. Then there was no dispute. There were these competing businesses in Winterpool. Then there was only one business. You get the idea.”

“So, I’m not being crazy.”

“Not at all", she said. "You appear to be quite sane."

“Do you have any idea how these people were infected?”

“No-well, sort of. My guess though is that it is a poison, rather than a disease. Infectious diseases, well, infect people. Yet, no documented case of this thing has anyone getting infected from someone who has already developed the symptoms. None of the people infected appear to have had any contact with someone who was also infected.“

Al considered her theory. It made more sense to kill people with a poison rather than a disease that might be difficult to control. “Have you given any thought to the people who might have had contact with your father before his death? Maybe one of his fellow dockworkers noticed something strange?”

Dinara paused, apparently debating internally on a course of action. Finally, she spoke. “I have thought about it but I was hesitant to ask around and put a target on myself too. But I think now might be the time. If I wait longer, memories will fade and people will be less likely to remember. It’s a long shot, but I’ll go to the docks tomorrow and ask around.”

“Thanks,” was all Al could come up with in response. He felt guilty that she was putting herself at risk but he could also tell it was something she was going to do regardless. Finding out that a friend had died from the same illness as her father had given her the final push.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said with a smile. “This is my choice. You didn’t make me do anything. Now, let’s set you up with a room...and a bath.”