Chapter: 41 – To the Ending Grove

Tala was, by every metric that mattered, a Mage.

Sure, she still lacked some basic knowledge that she would have gained as a mageling, under a master, but she was getting by just fine.

Just fifteen days out from the academy, and she’d reached a level of recognition that would likely take her classmates years to achieve.

She had operated as a Dimensional Mage for the most recent caravan from Bandfast to Alefast, earning quite a bit of gold.

The other Mages she interacted with recognized her prowess and authority.

She had magic inscriptions that left her nearly invulnerable to most threats. I’ll even get the remainder of my inscriptions as soon as I get back to Bandfast.

And now, she had her own magical items to explore and exploit.

Inside her newly acquired dimensional storage, Tala reached out and placed her right hand back on one wall and pushed power out, directing it straight from her gate into the surface, just as she had with the first cargo wagon she’d tried to empower.

The wall greedily drank in the magic, and there didn’t seem to be any resistance due to her lack of a mental construct to shape the power.

Even more interesting. As she continued to feed the wall magic, she watched the hole overhead shift slightly to rest beside one wall and gray ladder rungs sprout from the wall, along with shelveng around the opening itself.

“Now, this is amazing.” The changes she’d described were complete, so she cut the flow of power and pulled her hand away. As she did so, she felt a staggering, whole-body exhaustion set in. She felt nearly as bad as she had after creating her first Archon Star. What was that?

As she thought back, she realized that the lack of resistance had caused her to dramatically underestimate the amount of power she was funneling into the artifact. Instead of just taking power directly from her gate, she’d been pulling from the reserves around her keystone. She was used to draining water from a spout, and this had been like removing the top of the barrel and overturning it.

She groaned. “No fair. I’m trying to work with you, and you drain me?”

There wasn’t a response, per se, but the feeling of expectant waiting diminished to almost nothing.

“That’s not an apology, but I’ll take it.” Tala, you’re talking to your pouch… She groaned, again, and pulled herself up the ladder and out of the hole. With stiff movements, she placed all her carefully arranged piles onto the shelves surrounding the hole and drew the pouch closed, satisfied. She absently patted the side of the bag. “Not too bad.” Not helping. Sanity check, Tala.

She moved through some brief stretching to relieve the soreness, but she knew that her physical ache was just a manifestation of deep magical exhaustion.

She eyed the two items that she’d left out, aside from her clothing for tomorrow.

The vial containing her blood Archon Star and the artifact knife.

Tala, you’re tired. Don’t do anything foolish. She picked up the vial and opened the top, looking in on the drop of blood.

She held the knife in her other hand and looked back and forth between the two. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tala tipped the vial over, dripping the blood onto the pommel of the knife and directly into the small void in its magic.

As she’d hoped, the magic of the knife accepted the Archon Star with ease; the blood vanished as if she were confirming a contract.

She watched in fascination with her magesight as the artifact’s magic subtly shifted to incorporate her Archon Star. Physically, the knife darkened in color until the steel was almost black-gray. In the handle, more of the flecks took on a red tint, and those that were already red brightened in color.

Just as with the Archon Star itself, Tala was now aware of exactly where the knife was and its current condition: perfectly fine.

Then, she was struck with a hammer of weariness. She would have said it was soul deep, and that was more accurate than she’d like to admit, even to herself.

She dropped the knife and crawled lethargically to her bed before collapsing into blissful sleep.

* * *

Tala groaned into wakefulness, the room positively glowing around her.

She immediately felt her knife nearby and fumbled around on the bed, trying to find where she’d dropped it. Her hand met the hilt. There you are.

Lying there in her comfortable bed, she felt a flickering wave of tiredness threaten to pull her back into slumber, but she resisted. Nope! Time to get up, Tala.

She pushed herself upright, looking around the brightly lit room.

The artifact lights were still glowing, but their illumination was pale compared to the outside wall of her room, which positively radiated luminescence under the dawn’s light.

East-facing room, indeed. She glanced down at the knife and quirked a smile, setting it on her bedside table. It was good to have a weapon, ready to hand. If I’d had that under the wagon, I’d not have needed the soldier’s sword.

She hesitated at that. I had my camp knife. I did need a sword. Still, she felt like her new knife would have fit the bill, somehow. Strange.

She stood and arched backward, first working out the kinks of a night spent in an unnatural position. After that, she moved through her morning stretches, looking within herself to verify that each was targeting the correct muscle groups. That done, she moved through her exercises, deciding to add a couple at the end when she noticed several sectors of muscle that weren’t worked well enough.

That done, she turned towards the bath but hesitated. After a brief pause, she picked up her belt pouch and her sheathed knife, taking them with her into the bathroom.

After a quick bath—she was running later than usual, after all—she refreshed her salve, guided by the magic detector. Both the salve and detector she pulled from the pouch, and both were returned.

Finally dry and ready, she let out a long sigh. Last time I have to put these on. She pulled out her blood-stained clothing and pulled them on.

They weren’t precisely filthy, but they were far from clean. The seamstress should have something better this afternoon. She needed to move quickly if she was going to get to eat breakfast, swing by the blacksmith, and get to the ending grove that Trent had marked for her before noon. That’s what I get for sleeping late, I suppose.

Dressed, with her knife and pouch at her belt, she surveyed the room. There was nothing of hers remaining. I’ll be back. Still, it didn’t feel like her room, not permanently. That’s good; it isn’t.

She left, heading back to the dining hall, where she was able to grab a quick, hearty, and portable breakfast, foregoing the huge spread in favor of a less awesome but more ‘grab-and-go’ meal. They would only let her have two cups of coffee, so she guzzled those before departing.

Cloth sack of food safely tucked in her pouch, she strode from the inn and towards the blacksmith.

It was a bright morning, and even after her routine tasks, it was still somewhat early. There were citizens walking about, but not nearly as many as there would be soon enough. She pulled one piece of her breakfast out after another, eating them with gusto to sate her all-too-familiar hunger.

I really need to get better about monitoring my expenditure of power… Using magic didn’t directly affect her hunger, but the mental and physical strain of such definitely contributed to her appetite.

The blacksmith was waiting for her when she arrived, and she paid him the additional silver for prompt delivery of her tools.

The pliers easily vanished into the bag, but she had a bit of a comical time maneuvering the fruit picker, on its 10-foot pole, into her pouch. She ended up having to angle it quite extremely to allow it to fit well enough for her to draw the bag closed.

“Thank you, Pedrin.” The poor man had watched with obviously subdued mirth at her struggles.

“Our pleasure, Mistress. I hope that you return to us again, for any of your smithing needs.”

“I believe I just might. Good day.”

“Good day, Mistress.”

Without further delay, she strode towards the easternmost gate, as that was the one closest to the grove she sought. The streets were beginning to get busy, and the sky overhead was becoming a true, pale sky-blue as day took firm hold at last.

She grinned to herself, licking the last of her breakfast from her fingers. Today will be a good day.

There was a short line to exit the gate, and she waited patiently… for the most part.

It took the better part of a quarter-hour to reach the front of the line.

“Name, reason for departing, and time of expected return?”

“Mage Tala, on a personal errand, and late afternoon.”

The guard frowned. “I don’t see you on any jobs list for outside the city.”

“As I said, I’ve a personal errand.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The guard’s frown deepened. “But… you’re not on the lists.”

Tala took a deep breath in through her nose before puffing it out in a quick, calming exhale. “Guardsman, are you meaning to imprison me within this city?”

The man blinked. “What? No! Mistress, I would never—”

“Then, note that I have departed, on a personal errand, and will return well before nightfall.”

“We can’t send anyone out after you if you don’t return.”

She gave him a flat look. “I didn’t ask you to.”

He looked more than a little uncomfortable. Thankfully, a man who seemed to be his commanding officer stepped forward. He must have heard the end of the discussion because he bowed to Tala. “Mistress, my apologies. You are, of course, free to leave the city. Thank you for registering your departure with us. We will notify the”—he glanced at the slate the other guard held—“Caravan Guild of your journey, and we will relay any communications from them upon your return, after lunch.”

Tala blinked at him. The Caravan Guild… Rust! “Oh! My… I completely forgot that I didn’t pack a lunch. I’ll be back, shortly. When I return, do I need to check in with you, or can I simply walk out?”

“You may depart at your leisure.”

“Thank you, and thank you for your timely reminder! I’d hate to have gone hungry.”

She turned and strode away, as fast as she was able while maintaining a modicum of dignity. It took her another half-hour to reach the workyard near the city’s northern gate, where she found twenty cargo-slots awaiting her empowerment.

The foreman appeared to check a watch as she arrived, but he seemed satisfied by what he saw because he smiled and waved. “Mistress! Are these set up to your satisfaction?”

She gave them a quick glance before nodding. “They are indeed. Thank you.”

She quickly moved through the now-familiar mental and magical motions of empowering the cargo-slots, though the doubling of their number left her feeling a bit spent by the end. I could have gone slower, and that would have been easier. But she needed to go.

She verified that the foreman didn’t need anything further from her, and she turned to stride purposely back towards the eastern gate.

All told, her forgetfulness had cost her more than an hour, but she thanked the heavens that she’d been reminded before departing. That would have been very bad.

She waved to the guards as she walked out through the eastern gatehouse and threw her arms wide to bask in the sun streaming down upon her as she stepped free of the city.

The magic in the air hit her like a cool wave, revitalizing her and filling her with energy. She didn’t precisely absorb magic from the air, but she did feel it ease the strain on her body, in ways that she didn’t quite understand.

Always more to learn.

She also noticed a strange pulling that manifested in the magic around her, causing it to distort and seem to flow into her belt pouch. Recharging, after being in the relatively low magic of the city? It was an interesting idea, but it was not her current focus.

She pulled out the map as she walked, verifying her memory and checking for landmarks. As the first part of her path mainly took her across land that had been within the city at some point in the past, the ground was incredibly level and smooth, making for an easy, quick pace.

As she walked, she tried to note her balance, posture, and breathing without allowing them to dominate her thoughts. She nudged each of them in the right direction, again without forcing the issue. Little steps, Tala. Little steps.