Chapter

An hour later, and after a quick nap, the three men rejoined in Telgil’s smithy.

It was time to be off and Mikel was anxious to move. He’d already spent longer than a day in The Market of Dreams and he had places to go and people to find. He couldn’t afford any further delays - even if they yielded results like the books, the slate, and the strange earpiece. He hadn’t had a chance to try it out yet but meant to once he and Helsket were on the road.

But, before they left, Telgil had presents for them.

“I can just… Have these?” Mikel asked as he hiked the fine leather armor Telgil had given him onto his pack. The leather was lighter than plate armor or chainmail but still had some heft. The cuirass, thigh, shin, and shoulder guards all weighed roughly twenty pounds. Add in the pauldrons and the forearm protectors along with all the buckles and straps to hold it in place the entire package rounded out at roughly thirty-five pounds. Mikel was used to walking and hiking with a pack on, but now he was carrying almost eighty pounds and he wondered how well he’d fare going forward.

There were a lot of miles between Farraway and Stennin - a lot of heavy, hot miles.

It wasn’t lost on him that as soon as they stepped outside of The Market of Dreams they’d be bombarded by heat and smoke. He wasn’t naive enough to think the brutal summer and fire season had passed in the thirty or so hours they’d had off.

“Yes. This is my gift to you. It’s not the best leather armor I have, and honestly, the customer that ordered it never returned to pick it up - so now, it’s yours.”

“Okay... Ominous. But what about payment? Did the customer that didn’t come back pay you?” Mikel was trying to suss out what had happened to Telgil's previous patron, but the smith wasn't giving anything away.

“Paid in full before I started,” Telgil said with a smile, “It’s been nearly twenty years - I think, if he’s still alive he’ll have outgrown this. It’s made for a young man of your build. Very few of my customers would fit into this as the shaping was unique. The materials themselves were hard to come by. Diabolical Lynx made up most of the leather while the sinews binding it were from a Malevolent -"

"I'll cut you off there," Mikel said, side-eyeing the leather. There didn't appear to be anything... Evil about it, but the names of the creatures used in its creation were enough to give him pause.

“Thank you,” Mikel said, uneasy about taking the armor of someone who might very well be dead... Plus made of evil-sounding materials but all the same thankful. The armor was fine and would be hard to replace if he ever lost it or damaged it beyond repair. “I’ll pay you back if I can one day. Mainly to avoid incurring the wrath of the spirit of something called a Diabolical Lynx. What even is that?”

“Stay alive ‘till Stennin,” Telgil said, “Then if you’re still interested in payment we can talk. As for the Lynx - well... Helsket?”

The fire-haired warrior held his hand out at chest height, "About this tall at the shoulder - jet black fur, except when it wants to be another color. Strong, sneaky, fast. It's called Diabolical because it's about as devilish a creature as you can find. Pray you're never in a jungle with one stalking you. Not that you'd know it was stalking you, of course - not until you're dead... And then," He shrugged, "You wouldn't need to worry anyway. I don't think you would at any rate. Last time I checked, cat food doesn't think."

Mikel grimaced, "Sorry I asked. But I'll take you up on the deal in Stennin. If I feel I need to pay you there, I will. No arguments."

Telgil nodded before Mikel continued.

“My sword is alright though?” He gestured to the steel short sword he’d taken from the armory in his family's manor house. It was lightweight, but good steel. It was old and showed in the patina on the blade and handle, but otherwise, it was unmarked. Mikel made sure to keep the edge sharp at all times. He never knew when he might run into a stray Conceptual… Or a lich... Or a pack of angry priestesses... Or a Diabolical Lynx.

The list of things that could kill him kept growing, while he felt stuck in place, unable to get better.

It was clear he needed to get stronger... And fast. He could only get tossed around so much more before it had an impact on him. He thought of The Callisto Jewel against his chest, and the trap the power it promised contained. He'd acquired it for the potential power within, and although he'd only had a taste of what the ancient artifact had to offer he wanted more.

After the last few days, he needed more.

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“It'll do for now,” Telgil said as he glanced at the strange box he’d used to sample Mikel’s Essentia affinities the day before. The dark slathering of rubberlike material still clung to the inside of the cube and Mikel cleared his throat and pointed at it once he saw what Telgil was looking at.

“I can pay for that too. Really. I’m not poor. I know you said it was expensive… I feel bad. It doesn’t look good and I’m afraid I broke it.”

Telgil pursed his lips and shook his head, “No. It’s fine. It’s probably best if you don’t think about it anymore. It probably malfunctioned - they've been known to go on the fritz from time to time and this one was old. On the off chance it wasn't a fluke, I’m going to take the box to a friend and have him look it over. He can tell me what’s wrong with it.”

“Or with me,” Mikel said in a despondent tone, “I was hoping for answers on this trip - but I just seem to get more questions.”

“Don’t despair,” He said, turning back to Mikel from the box, “The world is a strange, wild place, and often our greatest perceived weaknesses can be our strongest weapons once we learn how to wield them.”

“Now that sounds like something out of an old book,” Mikel said lightly, “I appreciate you trying to help, but I think I've got more than typical weaknesses. The armor is a tremendous help though.”

“Alright, alright,” Helsket said, barging into the conversation, “Enough of this literary drivel. It’s time for my gift! You’ve got something for me, I take it?”

Telgil rolled his eyes, but nodded, “Aye. Here,” Suddenly a mace appeared in Telgil’s hands, startling both Mikel and Helsket.

Helsket recovered quickly, dashing forward and hefting the mace with both hands before transitioning it into his right hand. He stepped back and swung the mace through the air a few times to get the feel for it. A sharp, shrill whistle accompanied the swings. The lethargy he’d experienced the day before gone as if it had never been.

The mace was huge, much larger than any Mikel had ever seen - more a warhammer than anything, but Helsket moved it through the air as if it were a twig with a toy ball fastened to the end.

It had a haft as long as Helsket’s arm, wrapped with leather inscribed with glyphs Mikel didn’t understand. The haft led to the head which was as large as most men’s chests and spiked around regular intervals with shaped studs with wickedly sharp tips. A blade at the very end of the head glinted in the dim light of the armory and was as long as a wicked dagger.

“This is gorgeous,” Helsket said, “No payment? Just like the boy, eh?” He winked at Telgil before slipping the mace into a belt holster which kept it tight against his leg and prevented the spikes on the head from jabbing him as he moved.

“Made just for you,” Telgil said, “I think I owed you a favor or two from the old days. I made this years ago, thinking we’d bump into each other eventually. Consider our debts settled if you accept the mace.”

“I can’t think of anything I did for you that’d equal something like this,” Helsket said, pointing at the mace, “I’ll have to pay you, you know. I was just pulling your leg about it being a gift - and on the off chance you owed me something that equaled this in value, I want to know about it. You might be trying to get a better deal out of me than I'd allow.”

“No, no. It’s settled,” Telgil said, sounding tired, "You'll remember it... Or you won't. It's not a large thing to you, but it was to me." Telgil glanced between the two men before nodding and shaking his shoulders to invigorate himself, “And now, you two need to be on your way.” He glanced at a strange clock on the wall and nodded, “If you leave now, it will have been a little more than four days since you arrived. I plan on meeting you in Stennin once I finish my business here. I have many things to look into young master Raithson stirred up - The disturbance in the library being chief among them. The box the last.”

"You're going to meet us there?" Mikel asked, "But, if you stay in The Market we'll get way ahead. How are you going to cover the distance and meet us in Stennin in a week?"

“You’re going to take the…” Helsket asked, making an effort to speak only to Telgil, not revealing anything.

Mikel shook his head, aware the two old adventurers were keeping something from him but realized there was little use in fighting for meaning at the moment. The two friends were thick as thieves and would only reveal as much as they intended and not a thing more.

“Yes, that’s how I’m getting there,” Telgil said to Helsket with a slight grimace, “I’ll meet you at Herediarity in Stennin. I imagine that’s how long it’ll take me to button things up and you’ll be on the road at least that long. If you make it through Tar'Xet at the right time, you won't be delayed at all. Catch it at night though...”

Telgil glanced at Mikel who cleared his throat.

"I'm right here, you gab-bags," Mikel said, angry at being talked about and not to, "You two are speaking in riddles I have no chance at discerning. I know Tar'Xet is on the way, but what does getting there at nighttime have to do with anything? It's a dead Sunken Folk city, not some portal to HelGate."

He looked between Helsket and Telgil as both remained impassive, their looks revealing nothing.

"You're really going to play this game? With me? Right now?" Mikel rolled his eyes as he turned to finish buttoning up his armor, "If I'd known there would be this much politics in adventuring I might have sought other avenues to save Dad..."

After the two friends chuckled and passed a nervous look between themselves they turned back to Mikel, who was steadfastly ignoring them as he worked to fix an already well-adjusted piece of armor.

“Alright then,” Helsket said, “We’ll see you in Stennin in a week. We'll pass through Tar'Xet and find Calcifer. Then, we'll find you. I imagine we'll be shacked up at Herediarity if Cal is indeed the head librarian there.”

Telgil's eyebrows shot up, "I hadn't heard. Last I checked it was a woman who was the chief librarian. She must have left or..."

"Died, more than likely," Helsket said with a grimace, "You know how dangerous that job is. It's more dangerous than being the librarian in the place you sent Mikel. They go through three... Maybe four people every fifty years. If anyone is suited for the gig, it's Cal, but even he's got his limits."

While the two men were talking Mikel listened but restrained himself. He had so many questions to add to the ever-growing list in his head - and yet, he knew neither man would say anything.

Why was being a librarian dangerous at The Library of Herediarity? Why was Calcifer a good fit for the job? How in the Hel was Telgil getting to Stennin?

He didn't have long to stew before Telgil hustled him and Helsket out of the smithy and into the bustling street in the Market of Dreams. With a smile and a wave, he pointed them toward the door they needed to take to get back to Farraway.

Goodbyes were quick and frank, and then Mikel and Helsket were through the door and into the heat-blasted lands that lay beyond The Reverie and whatever other beautiful traps lay within The Market of Dreams.