Nine wicker baskets sat lined up next to the door leading from Breeze Haven’s forge, bound to the floor with the heaping weight of enchanted tablets as Cira lacked the aura with which to lift them. Regrettably, she would need to have Tawny activate her favorite artifacts so that they may once again rise to destined convenience.
As Cira let out a long and wistful breath, mana flashed against the stark white nullstone slabs while her de facto artificers tirelessly carved out the last of the tools they would need to venture below. After all of Rocky’s experience working with mithril, he caught on relatively fast when Cira taught him how to conjure nullstone, so after making another dent in her dwindling potion stores, they ended up with a pile of nullstone tablets that would last about a week before they crumbled—just long enough.
It seemed the newcomer Yotan really lit a fire under her crew’s asses and proved essential in finishing the soul thresher overnight. It sat in all its shiny glory with a ridiculous number of gems glittering in the light. Cira’s newfound and partial understanding of currency made even her balk at the absurd creation.
Without knowing its exact function, it looked like some abstract art piece like one would expect a modern magician to produce with all its jagged, jewel-encrusted spikes and lavishly speckled basin. The artifact, if you could even call it that at this point, still needed a few essential arrays that Cira would carve later herself, but aside from that it was complete and ready for transport, sitting next to her baskets by the door.
Next to the crew’s workbench and not in baskets were all the artifacts Cira needed for her business meeting next week, but she wasn’t too concerned about those at the moment.
“That one’s looking a little sloppy, Ike.” The admonishment from over his shoulder startled the young paladin. “Those glyphs in particular condense the conjured light, so messing them up is a good way to make a bomb.”
“B-but it looks the same as Yotan’s!” He was an earnest lad, but precision was his weak point.
“Not so. The outer array has six specific operative runes, so the next layer must conform to the same pattern. Your entire central array needs to rotate a smidge. Hmm…” She started pulling slates from his finished pile and inspecting them. For every two that she returned, one was thrown to the floor as Ike’s expression grew increasingly troubled. The fifth that she tossed away lit up when it hit the ground and the forge was bathed in a violent flash of light.
“Gyahhh!!” Ike fell to the ground and the others cried out.
“What the hell was that?!” Rictor made a strained face as he tried to rub the pain out of his eyes.
“I tried to tell you.” Cira tossed one more inertly to the ground. “Unstable artifacts don’t care about when you want them to activate, or what you want them to do. Just take it slow and you’ll get it. I know I said we were in a hurry, but we’re doing fine on time by now.”
“A little sleep would help.” Rocky quipped. “You can’t just keep us locked in the forge.”
“Go to sleep if you want, crybaby. These guys would just head to the training room if I told them to stop.” With the exception of Yotan who would refuse. Cira was working them to the bone, but it was at their behest. They wouldn’t have it any other way and eagerly walked the path of the tireless sorcerer. Sooner or later, she would have to make the old man go to bed, but that was neither here nor there.
“It has been a long day.” Rictor said offhandedly, “Are we still going to enchant that boulder or whatever? I wouldn’t mind going to bed soon, and I’m pretty sure the sun set hours ago on the outside.”
Cira did not mind his complaints one bit, because the entire crew had been awake since the morning of the heist. Then all through the night until this very moment the following evening.
“Now that you mention it… Shouldn’t Shores and the rest be back by now?” They were a reliable bunch, so a few hours late could mean they ran into real trouble. There was apparently an army of pirates with an Armada to dwarf Dreadheart’s scouring the skies after them, and all they had was some half-assed cloaking Cira whipped up in an hour.
How are they breaking in without my rock mages? I didn’t even think of that. They could be embroiled in battle as we speak. Or sunken through the clouds by now… Cira worriedly grumbled.
“Let’s get ready to leave, then.” Cira finished carving a glyph and set it on the table, “Maybe they will have returned by the time we’re done.”
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She grabbed a bag of mismatched gems off the counter and instructed everyone to meet her upstairs when they finished what they were working on. Walking down the hall, Cira’s mind pored through enchantments she needed to make when a particular door caught her eye.
Dammit, I still haven’t gone in there yet… Surely, they’re fine, right? Cira’s feet began to drag as her pace slowed and she found herself stopped in front of the training hall. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
“Come on… It’s just hundreds of displaced townsfolk. What’s so hard about that?” The knob chilled her palm and for some reason the thick wooden door felt so much heavier today. As the door cracked, she heard lively discussion and even the laughter of children, but when it opened enough for her to see in, the room fell silent. Hundreds of eyes landed on Cira—more so because each person had two. Within seconds, Cira reciprocated the energy in the room and froze in place.
What kind of a sorcerer am I? Dad wouldn’t have any trouble dealing with them. Why is this harder than facing hundreds of hostile pirates? It shouldn’t be. I just need to address them all at once and head out. Yeah, that’s it.
Cira held up her trusty quill and began weaving a simple wind glyph into the air. She noticed there were some gasps among the crowd and frightened whispers, but she couldn’t stop after already committing so far. Before long a glyph lit up and Cira threw her voice across the entire training hall.
“Attention hostages—”
“Noooo! I knew we couldn’t trust her!”
“Wahhhh!!!” A young boy started wailing and many from the horde of women all shrieked in panic.
Glancing back and forth across the room, Cira saw expressions of anger, fear, or desperation. All pointed at her.
“You—you harlot!” A woman twice her age with graying hair looked straight into her eyes with contempt. “Just what are you doing to us?”
Children were crying inconsolably while the adults let out hopeless screams or bargained for their lives. The room had fallen into utter chaos.
“I—I mean former hostages…” The volume of Cira’s voice had no effect on the masses as they broke down and tried to comfort each other. “Um, well… Jimbo will be back soon…”
Cira slowly backed away and pulled the door with her until it found its latch. Then she backed up a little further until she found a window and threw it open. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in, and cold, fresh air entered her lungs.
“Damn… What the hell was that?” No answer returned from the expanse of darkness outside, but a passing revenant stopped to cast a curious gaze her way.
“That was painful to watch.” An unwelcome voice entered her mind, and she felt a pattering of tiny legs settle on her shoulder. “You have a real knack for that.”
“You have got to be the most useless familiar of all time.” Cira’s retort had no effect.
“I’m not your familiar. I’m your cursed slave. Big difference.”
“Yeah? Cursed slave who would consume souls and take over peoples’ bodies if afforded The chance. This arrangement was your idea, pal.” Cira clicked her tongue and continued down the hallway, her nerves having been instantly overridden with irritation. “What do you even get out of sleeping so much?”
The guy cried about being trapped under a jar for an undisclosed number of decades, and he’d been curled up in a coat pocket for the vast majority of his tenure of freedom thus far.
“Some damn peace and quiet. Until you freed me, it seems I had forgotten how valuable it is.” She wondered if he even had ears. “And I get to scout out all the tasty souls this island has to offer.”
Cira brushed off the harmless spider’s ominous words as her feet hit hard wood. Inside the kitchen, Kuja sat yawning with a book in her hand. She glanced up with a look of minor concern, “It is getting late, isn’t it?”
“Do you think they ran into trouble?”
“I am sure of it.” Kuja replied bluntly but her tone didn’t seem particularly troubled. “I don’t know Shores as well as Jimbo and the rest, but any time I’ve worried over their return, they show up laughing with drinks in their hands. Those boys will be fine.”
That does sound like something they would do, but I can’t help but be anxious about it. I should have known it would turn out this way if I elected to sit at home.
“Ready to go?” Rictor came stomping up the stairs behind her with the others in tow.
“Yeah. We may as well get this taken care of before they get back.” It was best to stay busy. Even if she stayed behind, Cira didn’t want to slack off. Besides, this was potentially one of the most important steps to prepare for her nectar collection appointment. “Kuja, Rocky will stay here, but he’s probably sleeping. Do you mind if I leave you to hold down the fort for a little while?”
“I will be here,” She raised her book up and repositioned to be more comfortable in the chair. “Try not to stay out too late. A growing girl with a broken soul needs rest.”
Cira wanted to refute her, but honestly felt like a child before the bewilderingly old woman. As she walked out the door, there was a twinge of nostalgia, plodding along with bags under her eyes. It felt the same as when she would forget to enchant something before bed and trudge down the hall to the forge in her pajamas.
With a yawn, she clambered onto the dinghy still moored on her lawn and her crew reflected the tired expression. Old man Yotan stayed behind, so it was Cira, Gil, and Rictor who sailed over the tree tops following Jimbo’s map to one of the scribbled landmarks on the opposite side of Lost Cloud. They rode the canopies in case they had to drop into hiding at any moment, but the sky was surprisingly clear.
The ominous glow of the moon filtered through the mist above and lit up the forest a pale green in the night. All was quiet but a hooting owl and the incessant biophony of nocturnal insects. Soon a tall and narrow peak came into view as a mere silhouette through the fog, towering above the island.
“Is that it?” Cira asked as they approached.
“Yup.” Gil replied, “Chimney Peak’s hard to miss.”
Rictor looked at it then back at Cira with uncertainty, “Are we really gonna enchant the whole thing?”
Cira gazed into the onyx which pulsed with stored mana, “We must.”