Why did people always come back to me in pieces? The girl was drenched in blood. Blood from her stomach, from a deep wound that’s probably flooded her guts with internal bleeding, from her shoulder, the arm beneath limp, and from her face, a long scrape clawing open a window of chipped teeth.

From the fact she wasn’t bringing her tribe back with her, I could guess the broad strokes of the story.

She dropped off Ramses and her legs refused to hold her as she hit the ground, the bag she carried falling to the sand and spilling out treasure as she just toppled over face-first. My faithful hippo lifted her up by the scruff of her rags, her head hanging low, and dropped her into the pool, snorting expectantly as he waited for me to heal her.

Which I did.

But I was getting awfully tired of the world tearing up my friends.

The bag was full of wonders, and most of them, the world had gotten to. It was full of cracked stones that long ago bled away their magic. Smooth pieces of driftwood that still had tiny whispers of sea-attuned Mana clinging to their pale skin. A few rings like the one containing the Windrunner skill, but only one that had enough intact runes to be salvaged.

A stone plate set with thin bands of metal meant to conduct different forms of Mana spreading out from a central basin. I thought mortals must have used it to measure attunements from a sample. A fragment of a Mana stone.

And numerous coins, and bits of shiny rock, things that were worth nothing to me.

Some of these things were very useful; I tried not to think of that as I devoured them. They’d be valuable in days, in weeks. They were tools, but not the ones I needed in the moment. Setting aside the intact Skill ring as too valuable to waste, I dissolved the rest and felt Mana flood back into my veins.

I’d already planned out how to spend it. A few thin fingers of crystal drifted in the pool, the results of my experiments, measuring out how much Mana I would need for this.

The answer was, I’d have enough left over to add a second flourish to the plan.

A hawk soared above, its wings casting shadow over the sun-warmed rocks, putting terror into the hearts of scrawny little desert mice whose fur blended into the sand as they froze. I lured it down, casting tendrils of thought into its mind.

I could make this proud creature a sun unto itself.

The first thing I gave were feathers of gold, shiny and reflective so the sun blazed on their tips and lined its wings with orange light. I made it stronger and faster, but invested less Mana there than in the tight bundle of vocal muscle in the throat, building its warcry into a thunderous sound. Then I laid the basis of luminous glands in the underside of its chest, looking like frills of strange pink flesh, almost akin to the gills of a fish.

It was quick work, and I did little to change the fundamental structure. But when I finished the bird was awed by the sight of its own wings, stretching and curling them so the light rippled between feathers. Testing the strength of the hardened clawtips of its talons. It almost ignited the luminous glands, but I stopped it there with a thought. Not yet.

Sunglory's Hawk

[ Unranked ]

Kingdom Animalia

Age - 2 Years

Physique - Unranked

Arcana - Null Psyche - Unranked

Diet - Small Birds / Lizards

Biome - Arid Desert

Cycle - Diurnal Given radiant feathers, this desert predator becomes an eye of gold above the wastes, cutting like a gilded sword through blue skies. Its eyes are keen, its voice musical and strong, and its luminous glands allow for brief flares of blinding light. Notable Features - Resistant to radiation, keen eye sight, luminous glands.

In the shallows, Shiny groaned and rolled back onto her feet. Her wounds were closed, thin lines of silvery scar tissue traced across her skin, as if they’d healed years ago. The one extending from her mouth was like a lightning bolt branching out as it touched across her cheekbone.

She looked beaten. Dull-eyed, and her voice was a croak. “You said, you’d make me something better if I brought you my collection. Well? I’m waiting.” I didn’t take it personally.

What she was really saying was - look at what it cost me.

Mana flames burned in the air, tracing ribbons of blue-green as they spiraled together to take the form I commanded. A form I drew from the lowliest places, from the clever little maggots feasting in the depths nearby, the crystalline organs in their pale bellies.

A spear formed.

The curved haft was lapis-lazuli, drawn from tiny flecks of the material in my domain. It was a beautiful stone of a color deeper than the sky’s own blue, and threaded with bands of white and black that cascaded against one another to form a diamond lattice beneath the glossy stone. The shaft ended up in a broad oar-like paddle, meant to counterbalance for the throw.

The other end was a pure white crystal formed into a teardrop blade. Cloudy swirls ran through the transparent make of the blade, and the edge turned to a pale, electric purple.

It fell from the air and landed in the sand before her. The girl whistled, lifting it and, finding the weight perfect, spinning it across the back of her palm. The edge cut the wind with a low and buzzing scrape of crystalline sound.

Fulminate Lance

Skycryst Spear. Silver-Rank Craftsmanship.

Bronze-Rank Enchantment.

Mana Capacity

0 / 40

Durability

50 / 50

Forged from precious stones that draw on the energies of heaven to bring forth lightning's strength, this spear devours the Mana around it with a greedy, war-hungry spirit. Its slender and seamless make could only come of unearthly craft. Born from the Oasis Dungeon.

“Nice. Good to see yer a voice of your word. Not that, eh, a voice is anything more than it’s word. But. You know...” She looked at the spear again. Grudging awe, and sourness for the price. A thing she would have given the world for yesterday. “Well, what now?”

“Now. Now you have to bear the spear for me, up into the mountains. It will protect you and my creatures will do the rest.” It was a risk. I wasn’t sure how well the Mana-absorbant nature of the spear would work against the evil magic imbued in the snow. Here, it was a whirlpool in the flow of magic, sucking in ambient Mana and making my vision distorted around its edge.

It would at the very least weaken the enchantment on that frozen land. Enough they could get through safely, I hoped.

“Uh-huh. And uh, what’s in it for me?” She paused, and tilted her head up, towards where she imagined I was. “Because-”

An ugly pause. She turned her tongue over her teeth.

“Well, it ain’t like I won’t do it. I will. I’d like to. Ain’t got anything better to do, ‘n all, but- But I ain’t gonna do it just ‘cuz some voice in the skies says to. Like I’m being ordered to. That ain’t no kind of life. So there has to be something in it for me. Something.” She sounded like she was pleading. Her foot turned beneath her, grinding at the sand.

I think I understood. There was nowhere else left to to go, and if I threatened to cast her out too, she could only do what I said with her head bowed. But a little kindness went a long way in this world.

“Do this.” I said. “And the next time I speak to the gods, I’ll take you with me.”

That got a grin. A radiant one, almost giddy. It was a good thing to see on her gaunt, worried face. “Alright. Deal.” She said, and spat on the ground.

Which was supposed to be some kind of gesture sealing the deal, but... "You just spat on me."

She winced. "Sorry?"