By the time they returned home, the sun had sunk below the treetops. They settled for some bread and quick snacks before bed, but Ruena made Soral promise to stay home the next day. She had something important to show him.

The next morning Soral set himself on the task of cooking breakfast. Real breakfast. He happened to lose some of the old biscuits and jerky as he searched the kitchen for ingredients and tools. Whoops?

Jazz took a whiff and seemed just as disgusted by the things as Soral had been. At least his distaste was shared. He was glad to discover she had a cooler to store the perishables in tucked away in the corner. It wasn’t very big, but he had been able to fit breakfast essentials like eggs and sausage.

Ruena woke while Soral was in the middle of preparations. “What are you making?” she asked.

“Omelets,” he replied, “I don’t know too many kinds of breakfast food, and we didn’t find any potatoes last night.”

Granted, they hadn’t actually entered the produce market.

“Omelets?” she asked, “Aren’t those hard to make?”

“They take a bit of practice,” Soral admitted, “But I figured it out. Couldn’t always find a place that makes them so I had to do it myself.”

“Really? I would have just gone without,” Ruena replied with a yawn.

Soral finished the chopping and started whisking the eggs until they were nice and fluffy. “I don’t like sacrificing anything. Especially if there is no real reason to,” he told her, “I won’t let having to earn money get in my way either.”

She yawned again and watched as Jazz helped himself to a nibble of sausage. “Is it okay to let him eat that?”

“Is it bad?” Soral asked, “I don’t really know what magical creatures eat so I just let him have what he wants.”

“I don’t know either,” Ruena admitted.

Jazz only blinked in response. Magical creature or not, he looked and acted just like a cat, though he was far too mellow to really be a kitten.

Soral set two plates on the table with huge steaming omelets atop them. He let Jazz have some leftover filling and some egg mixture as a scramble. Ruena hadn’t eaten breakfast like this since she had left home and her mouth began to water against her will.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” Soral asked.

“The prophecy,” Ruena replied, then took a bite. It was still a bit hot so she quickly covered her mouth with her hand as she let some steam out.

“Oh yeah,” Soral remembered, “You did tell me about that when we met.” He hadn’t thought too much of it. Prophecies were known for being vague and mostly unhelpful.

“I picked it up yesterday,” Ruena explained. She decided to let it cool down a bit before taking another bite, “I added some notes with some other things I know but my benefactor is the one who told me most of it.”

There was that benefactor again. The more she mentioned him the less Soral liked him. Not that a thief like himself had any right to pass judgment on a suspicious enigma.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Let’s take a look, then,” Soral decided, pushing his omelet aside a bit to make room on the table.

Ruena went to the other room quickly and retrieved a piece of paper. “I wasn’t allowed to borrow the original so I just had to copy it real quick,” she told him.

The handwriting on the paper was neat and organized. The prophecy was centered with the notes off to either side.

Soral gave it a quick glance through as he ate his omelet.

“Two halves of a whole

A hero and a general

The Wild One shall carve the way

The Weaponsmaster shall secure it

Their genius combined will create the new world

Treasures restored from times past

Treasures created for their futures

All shall know their names and revel in their glory

The Wild One hails from a distant land

Forbidden magic in his hand

The Weaponsmaster will be born anew

An heir to the first, tried and true”

It was pretty short. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but maybe a bit more length? Not that any of what was actually there made much sense. Well, one bit made perfect sense to him.

“The Wild One hails from a distant land

Forbidden magic in his hand”

If Ruena was right about him being the Wild One, the distant land could only be that horrible place. Griff. As for forbidden magic, all magic was forbidden there. It could also be talking about the fact he copied that portal that some queen had apparently banned.

“What does this mean?” he asked, pointed to the one for the Weaponsmaster.

“The Weaponsmaster will be born anew

An heir to the first, tried and true”

Ruena looked over at it. “I’m not sure but I think it is referring to the fact that my father was once given the title of Weaponsmaster. In other words, I’m not the first one?”

Soral switched his attention to the notes on the side. Right by “Treasures restored from times past” she had written “Revival of the Alodan Warriors” and “Ancient magic and technology”.

“Technology?” Soral asked.

“The countries that have technology tend to be fairly exclusive so I’m not surprised you don’t know much about it,” she told him, “They believe magic and technology don’t mix.”

Soral frowned. Actually, he had heard about technology a lot during his childhood. Perhaps Griff was a part of one of those kingdoms.

“What is ancient technology then?” Soral asked.

“Legends tell of devices that combined the powers of technology and magic,” Ruena explained, “But no one knows when they existed or much about them. Some people believe that the document talking about them was not a historical text but a highly detailed prophecy. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen it.”

Technology made with magic. Soral kinda agreed that magic and technology didn’t mix, but is was a cool idea. There was one other part of the prophecy that caught his eye.

“The Wild One shall carve the way

The Weaponsmaster shall secure it”

“Hold on, doesn’t this mean I will be doing most of the work?” he complained.

“Not necessarily,” Ruena argued, “People can walk down a path carved through a forest, but unless it is enforced, secured, and maintained, it will be lost to the forest soon enough.”

Soral thought about that. “Then you have to do all the work and I just get to charge ahead?”

She winced at his wording. “Something like that. Probably,” she admitted.

He finished up his omelet and headed to the sink to clean up. Luckily there was a sink. Most places Soral had stayed were abandoned and didn’t have any convenient magic tools.

Magic tools…

The pouch he had seen at the Belleas Guild suddenly popped into his mind. It he had something convenient like that he would-

No, he couldn’t. At least for now, he wanted to stay on Ruena’s good side. But there was no telling if that pouch would still be there once he got bored of playing the part of a good, legal citizen.

“Is something wrong?” Ruena asked from behind him.

“I was just wondering when you would finish,” he lied and looked at her barely eaten omelet.

Ruena hesitated. “It really is delicious,” she assured him, “But I’m full. I can’t believe you polished off yours so quickly. I’ll just eat the rest later.”

Full? Maybe it was a side effect of going hungry for so long but Soral never felt full. Most people he had cooked for could eat that much. She wouldn’t lie, though, so he tried to guess her new portion size based on what she did eat. Having a partner was so complicated. Still, without her, he wouldn’t have found the Belleas Guild or met Jazz.

Jazz rubbed gently against his leg as if summoned by Soral’s thoughts and he picked the kitten up. He was so soft and warm.

Soral spent the rest of the day strategizing, discussing, and helping Ruena with any tasks or chores. Anything, really, to get his mind off of that mysterious bag. The more he tried to ignore it, the more it began to fill his thoughts.

That night, Soral took a detour before bed. He was just going to get a closer look at it. That much should be fine, right?