“Everything fades so fast. Where I knew one, now two stand. From dozens only one still is. Yet they don’t know. They are shattered. Am I too? I destroyed, I created. Pieces everywhere. It’s a lie. It was true. How they endure it? Do they know? Should they? Or maybe not. That path is closed now. Everything same. Shadow of what was. Nothing new.”

- Traveller’s Endless Journeys

Rays of the sun were trying to pierce rainy clouds when the caravan approached a bridge.

“It is unnaturally quiet,” Ciros said, “Mchac was right; it’s as if every animal decided to run away from here. Not even birds can be heard.”

A menacing atmosphere of the area affected the whole caravan, everyone was looking around nervously expecting an enemy appearing out of thin air.

As they crossed the river Ion was almost sure that he noticed something dark moving in the waters.

“Something is lurking down there,” Sae confirmed his suspicions, “And I bet those are not just some adventurous chuuls.” Ion noticed that in the place of a sword she had lost, Sae wielded a scimitar that one of daemons used. It seemed far too big for her.

“As long as they leave us alone I’m willing to do the same,” Thaleus added, “Dwarves were never meant to fight in water.”

On the other side of the river, scouts spotted first human corpses. Lyssa seemed to finally wake up from her stupor which began on the aftermath of the battle and joined other clerics burning bodies on their way, hoping to grant spirits of the fallen respite.

“There is our waystation. One of the walls is clearly damaged; it was probably breached by magic,” Dorian commented about the state of fortifications Ion could barely see; the sight of a half-elf was much better than his own.

“At least they hadn’t built it directly on the road,” The small fort was located further down the road, trees still obscuring his sight, “I wonder why won’t they placed it so it could also guard the bridge passage?”

“This fort served mostly as a lookout position, so they set it on a hill. An ability to watch above trees was more important than taking a toll for travelling this road,” Adre explained, “They could just dispatch a group of soldiers for that task. Also, if placed too close to the river, they would have to face attacks of migrating chuuls more often.”

Soon, from the head of caravan Ion heard arguing voices. On the fork of the road, Lyssa disputed with Milas who currently lead the foreguard.

“…but there still might be someone alive!”

“Yes, either those demons, bandits or both! We have our own task, not to mention a limited amount of guards. What would you want me to do; go with the whole caravan up there, or split, reducing our numbers even further? We must leave that area as soon as possible, Rikse could take care of their lost waystation on its own.”

“But if they are still there and we let them stay here they will start attacking villages…” Lyssa was unyielding.

“Say Reria, you seem to be quite knowledgeable when it comes to this demonic things…” Sae spoke, unconcerned by the nearby argument, “If they destroyed the waystation and later attacked us, would you expect them to leave someone here?”

“Well if they were summoned by a mage…”

“No, let’s consider they travelled here on their own” the redhead interrupted.

“In that case…” Reria took a moment to think, “I’d still say yes. Imagine Yugoloths - that's how their kind is called - as a guild – very bloodthirsty one, with its members ready to backstab others given any opportunity. I doubt that this Nycaloth would have enough power on his own to keep all others under his command; they had to have the orders from someone overseeing this operation. An Arcanaloth perhaps?”

Seeing their clueless stares she sighed and continued.

“Those are powerful spellcasters amongst Yugoloths; known from their hunger for knowledge and power. In their natural form, they resemble jackals, but they are able to assume different shapes…”

****

For a moment Ion saw himself standing in front of a magic circle occupied by a fox-headed humanoid wearing glasses and elaborate robes.

“So we meet again, magus” in an instant Arcanaloth’s form changed. In his place stood now a tall elf, his white hair reaching a little below shoulders, violet eyes looking as if trying to pierce his soul. “As you already know my name, mind sharing yours in turn?”

“I’ve already told you A’canthosh,” he infused the last word with power, slightly annoyed, “to not assume my form.”

“One may argue about the meaning behind your request…” The figure said, “I can assure you that I have not altered my body in any way.”

He focused for a moment to dispel the illusion, revealing a grinning face of the daemon.

“But you surely have not summoned me just to have an idle chat. So what informations are you willing to trade today?” A’canthosh eagerly asked.

“Spell patterns.”

Recently his progress on certain invocations stunted. Having insight from A’canthosh during his earlier researches was worth its price.

****

“…it’s too bad, imagine all the things we could find inside an abandoned military fort,” Sae sounded dissatisfied.

Ion barely paid mind to the conversation that followed, thrilled by what he saw.

‘I was finally able to see how Vision-me looks like! With him being an elf I can safely assume that he is a different person…’

Ion was both happy and disappointed by this.

‘So am I really spying on someone? Maybe from Isvaarheim? Divining his future or seeing his past? I read about some ‘Gifted’ that were able to do so; recall a whole life of a person just by touching an object that belonged to him…’

He was still deep in his thoughts when the caravan started moving again.

“Sometimes one can’t do as his heart strives and is forced to wait for an opportunity. To prepare, to gather strength. And pray, that one day he will be capable to do what he had promised, hope that it won’t be too late by that time,” Dorian spoke to Lyssa after she lost her argument with Milas, sounding as if he’d tried to convince himself too.

‘A’canthosh…’ Ion savoured the name, feeling the power flowing through it even when saying it in his thoughts.

‘He might be my best chance to learn something about that wizard’s identity… yet dabbling in the daemonic summoning? This won’t end well for me. And what’s the importance of a daemonic name?’

In the vision, he knew it was really important but didn’t spare a thought why it was so.

He looked at Reria who still discussed with Sae.

‘I should ask her about those things later... I wonder what’s the reason for someone only able to cast few 2nd circle spells to know so much about daemons… She mentioned her master being interested in them earlier, yet why is she travelling without him then?’

As they continued the travel Ion was focused on repairing the pattern of his enchanted cloak. It was the first time he was trying to do so after three consecutive uses of the item. The task was significantly harder because of that.

He also wondered about spells he saw used during today’s battle. One was surely Darkness. The vile clouds monsters conjured matched description of Cloudkill, a 5th circle spell that Vision-he knew, yet was too hard for Ion to copy. The incantation he remembered Istaro using was probably a 4th circle necromancy spell Blight.

Ion tried to write parts of the incantation he remembered the priest saying, yet wasn’t sure whether they will be of any use to him. It was just like Archibald said him once – learning spells directly from other casters was really difficult as everyone was casting differently. That what was visible was only a tip of an iceberg. While effects seemed to be the same, the process of achieving them differenced widely.

Let's say two wizards are performing the same spell. While the output pattern of their mana would be mostly similar, the process of achieving that output would vary greatly. Firstly, they would have different affinities, towards both elements and schools of magic; that will affect amounts and types of mana each of them chooses or is sometimes forced to use while shaping the casted spell. Secondly, as they are using different types of mana, in different proportions, they would also use different sigils while guiding it - with practice they might be able to do it quicker, more efficiently, wasting lesser amounts of mana on the energy conversion, or sourcing more mana from the outside - which in itself require some changes to the sigils used, depending on the type of mana available in the area.

Most wizards, through the observation of output patterns, were able to identify spells casted by others, which held great importance in a battle; this was the main reason why Ion tried his best to note all that he remembered about the spells he saw today.

Yet, the thing he was the most curious were the spells Maval casted; their output patterns seemed very similar to those he knew - Scorching Ray, Magic Missile, probably a Fireball - yet used the ice element. Was she able to create a balanced spell pattern even using a different element? Vision-he knew it was possible, yet this kind of manipulation was usually very mana consuming. As he had a wide array of spells at his disposal, he rarely needed to cast in such a way. But for Ion, it still might be something worth trying to learn should he encounter an enemy resistant to his spells.

Afterwards, Ion took out the scroll he received from Sae and continued to study it.

Contrary to just observing an output pattern of a casted spell, spellscrolls allowed a wizard to channel his mana into written symbols. This created a feedback; a wizard could sense if his energy is creating a stable output pattern, or if he needs to adjust sigils and mana types he uses. This not only greatly fastened a learning speed, but was also safer for the one learning; at worst a wrong pattern might just destroy the scroll, instead of potentially harming the spellcaster.

***Reria***

Contrary to what they expected the journey was uneventful. On the early evening, when they finally left the ominous waystation behind, everyone was in a better mood.

“Why it’s still raining?” Thaleus said grumpily.

Maybe almost everyone.

Milas as well as all the other guards wanted to leave the waystation as far away as possible so they hadn’t set up a camp until dusk. Same as on the last night they weren’t going to search for a spot further away from the road; even if trees weren’t growing that thickly there, in such rainy conditions they would have risk wagons getting stuck in the mud.

She and Ion started to prepare wards around the camp.

Once again Reria felt envy seeing the wizard preparing runes with an ease while she had to struggle trying to copy them from her book.

‘Is this what it really means to be a Gifted?’ she wondered. ‘He can’t be older than me, just how much his family could have spent on his tutoring?’

For a moment she saw smiling faces of her mother, father and sister. Then she remembered a bloodstained room she found when returning her home from Windhelm’s marketplace, their mutilated corpses laying inside.

‘You weren’t there to help them.’

She pushed the unwanted thought away.

“Reria, are you okay?” She heard Ion’s concerned voice. In her anger she put too much mana into one of the runes, causing it to explode.

“Sorry, I feel unwell today. Could you finish by yourself?” she left not waiting for his answer.

Reria returned to the camp, waving off Hant who tried to talk to her. After his whole team perished in the fight, he joined their group. At least the bard set up a tent for her. She entered inside.

Even if that all happened almost a half year ago memories were still painful.

****

Reria remembered that night clearly. She could still feel the coldness of her little Aria as she hugged her little sister unable to believe what she was seeing.

Then she heard the cracking of stairs as someone went down.

“Here you are, girl. You weren’t in a hurry to rejoin your family.”

Walking down was a burly bald stranger with a scar on his left cheek.

“Who are you? Why have you done this?”

Reria couldn’t understand anything.

“Help! Someone help please!”

She started to shout hoping to attract neighbours’ attention.

“Ye are like ur stupid parents, wench. They also ‘adn’t know who rules that village.”

The other man, that she hadn’t seen up until now mocked her.

“We ensured that everyone in the proximity would act wisely. And after we finish everything here, nobody in that shithole you call a town would dare to disrupt our businesses again.”

Reria started to scream, yet was soon silenced by a kick of the thug.

“Shut up already!” the man said.

She smelled Dreamspark from him. Reria remembered her father often saying that guards should finally do something with people selling this drug on the streets.

“Don’ worry lass, we’ll ‘ave some fun that ‘ll keep ya quiet.”

She tried to attack the man, yet a hit from a club sent her back on the ground.

“Your sister also fought, for a time. She screamed so nicely when we worked on her… Your parents begged for mercy as they watched, unable to do anything. Too bad they didn’t last until you came. But do mind that we were bored waiting for you.”

‘Shiela save my family, I beg you! Uther, please wake me up from this dream!’ struggling against the thugs she prayed, first to the deities she knew well, then even calling to those more obscured, those she only heard about. Yet none of them listened.

“I think that your parents would like to grant you a helping hand.”

The bald man mocked her desperate attempts to fight off his helper.

“Take it,” he cut off her father’s arm and thrown it at her.

When the thug grappled her again, she managed to bit him.

“Argh! Take ‘at bitch!” he pushed her away, clubbing her head.

She fell to the floor and everything started to become hazy.

“I think that you broke her… too fast man, we had not even really begun…” a voice was fading away.

Her vision was covered by darkness.

Suddenly a flicker of flame appeared before her, illuminating the dark area. In front of her stood a beautiful woman clad in an armour, dark-red feathered wings matching the colour of her hair and glowing eyes. She crouched, looking at her with a sad expression.

“I cannot bring back your family,” Reria heard pain in her angelic voice. “Yet I might offer you a chance for revenge.”

“I will grant you a bit of my power, a spark on which you will be able to build up your own. You shall receive insights into my knowledge, a gift that many mortals would envy...”

The woman extended a hand to her, waiting for Reria to grasp it.

“You will be free to use them as you see fit.”

She smiled encouragingly seeing Reria slowly reaching towards her.

When they palms almost touched, she withdrew hers a little.

“In return, I only wish you to help me, for there are those who I cannot face alone,” for a moment anger sounded in the woman's voice. “The one who usurped my position and chased me away, those who serve him are numerous, even in your world.”

Reria hesitated.

‘Who is this being? Why hadn’t she reacted earlier, helped my sister when she needed it?’

As if knowing her thoughts the woman sadly spoke: “Even my powers are not without limits, and there are many who wish for my demise. My enemy has legions of devils at his disposal, yet even they are not able to break the will of those faithful to me. The path I offer to you is not an easy one, but fear not, for I care for and reward those loyal to me.”

Reria couldn’t say for how long they looked at each other in silence, woman’s hand still extended.

‘Do I have any other choice?’ she decided finally.

The woman embraced her and suddenly everything was covered in flames. Reria felt ecstasy and pain as something changed inside her and otherworldly knowledge filled her mind.

“My children know me as Ashara.”

Reria, with her newfound knowledge, could now wonder whether her new Patron was some kind of a Solar or just a very powerful Erynie.

‘As if this would make any difference.’

“Now go, tend to your flame, I need you to grow stronger,” her voice started to fade away.

Reria could hear what was happening in her house again. Surprisingly no time at all seemed to have passed.

“ ‘Ats ‘er fault! Bitch bit me!” her body was kicked again. Pain the thugs had caused her earlier seemed to be dull now.

“Wasn’t her hair blonde just a moment before?”

Reria willed flame to appear from her hands, engulfing the thugs with it. At first, they tried to fight back, yet after a second cast, they only screamed.

When she heard them begging for their lives after a third, Reria felt somehow purified.

Few minutes have passed.

She was standing outside of her house. It burned like a funeral pyre to her family. After seeing the bodies, with her newfound knowledge, Reria learned that only a cleric of 7th circle might be able to resurrect them. Reria had no dellusions about finding one in time and even if, her chances of miraculously being able to convince him and pay for even a single ritual were even smaller.

“I will always remember you,” she swore to her family.

She managed to learn from the thugs who the masterminds were before killing them. Covering herself in Invisibility she began to plan how to cleanse the world from those who caused the death of her family.

Evading panicked townfolk trying to prevent flames for spreading further Reria wondered whether they were also guilty because of their indifference.

**Ion**

Ion spent almost two hours warding the camp alone. Rain was growing stronger with every passing minute. If not for his repeated use of Prestidigitation he would have been soaked to the bone.

He had no idea why Reria so suddenly left him. He was annoyed, not only by the fact that he had to do all the work alone, but also because he hadn’t get a chance to ask her about deamons’ names.

Outside of a shelter were only those who had to – sentries. Ion grabbed a meal that was prepared earlier by someone and went into his tent.

He just started to eat when a cloaked head appeared in the entrance.

“Shouldn’t you do something first?” Sae asked. She sighed seeing Ion's clueless expression. “The spell I gave you. Rain. Connect dots.”

“Ah, that,” Ion said between bites. “I still need some time to learn it, if I rush I may damage the scroll. I should manage by tomorrow evening.”

'And I have enough runeworking for today.'

“My tent is sinking,” she said.

He nodded, still focused on his food.

‘Gods, I’m starving. Should I take double?’

Sae coughed.

“My. Tent. IS. SINKING.” The girl repeated slowly, accenting every world.

Her expression suggested that she expected something from him.

“What? Don’t even think I’m going to give you mine. If you want to swap speak with Hant, I am sure you will convince him.”

Sae stared at him for a moment not believing then huffed angrily and left.

“Seriously? First Reria’s moods and now Sae's?”