I stood over the wyvern, grimly satisfied by the advantage we’d been granted from surprise and poison. Being the ambusher this time had drastically skewed the fight in our favour.

“Are we going to take it with us?” I asked, prodding the corpse. Even in death, it cut a strong figure, diminished only by its wounds and the fact that it lay sprawled out on the ground.

Numen shook her head. “Only what we have use for. We’ll preserve as much of the meat as we can carry, turn it into something less chewy and tough than wyvern meat.” She said, grimacing. “Some nobles from the ‘Republic’ or Esa would say that that’s a waste, but frankly I can’t imagine why anyone eats the meat as it is.” She shrugged, beginning to take it apart from the head down.

“The skull is worth a lot to a few people. Some people think the eyes can help cure impotence, don’t even ask. The claws too, a lot of artisans like it, it has a nice sheen to it.” She remarked, laying out the skull besides the body and declawing the creature. “Its organs are preferred fresh, apparently the alchemists have their own preservation methods, but since they’re a while away I won’t take them. Its coat is very useful in armour, expensive stuff that most people won’t be able to afford.”

“It had a nest.” Frejr said, and I turned to her, my eyebrows raised as she and Qent came out carrying a clutch of eggs. “Some people still hope that they will one day have a normal wyvern hatch in captivity, others believe the egg to be a delicacy.” She said. “It will take several hours of boiling, but those with enough money spare little expense.”

I frowned a little under my faceplate. Most of these eggs will likely have been here for a while, do they eat the immature wyvern too? My thoughts flashed back to a program I’d seen on television, about a delicacy made of half matured chicken eggs. The thought disquieted me. It often feels like something becomes a delicacy because its rare and less because it tastes good.

I Delved to look at them, peering at their souls. They were dim, so much weaker than anything I’d seen of even children’s souls. It seemed diminished, incomplete somehow. Wisps of their souls occasionally dissipated into the aether.

I shuddered almost imperceptibly, almost. Numen turned to me quizzically. “They’re dying.” I said. “Their souls look incomplete, and they’re slowly fading into the surroundings.”

Qent turned to me in surprise. “You can see it that clearly? You’re sure they’re fading away?” He asked, his eyebrows shooting up. Frejr cocked her head as she looked to the eggs. “Where are you from that you haven’t been inducted yet?” He asked with an astonished half smile, his tone still carrying notes of shock. “You would be among at minimum the top quarter or so of our Sensitive’s rankings. It wouldn’t even matter that you can’t use aether…” He shook his head.

“You realize that even so, they’d only want to keep track of his family line instead of using him, there is in fact very little a Sensitive can do, even as strong as he seems.” Frejr said, her voice tinged with amusement. “The art of Seers is nearly impossible to pick up properly without guidance.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right, I mean, even if he did learn it and become one of the most accurate Seers in the world, he’d be at a disadvantage against the Seers that can evoke.” Qent conceded. I cocked my head at him, and he waved it off. “It’s nothing, just don’t spread it around, I’m surprised you haven’t learned that yet with your abilities.” He said with a shake of his head.

“If you’re done discussing I’ll need help dealing with all this meat.” Numen commented dryly. Qent bowed his head a little guiltily, and we moved to help with the work. We moved quite a ways away from the wyvern corpse, ending close to the edge of a road, hefting the meat with us in bags Numen had apparently bought. “I’ll charge you all later.” She said with a cheeky smile.

She asked me and Frejr to search for berries, something which left all of us confused. She rolled her eyes. “Just do it, it’ll be worth it I promise.” I shrugged, she was the survival expert after all. Frejr went with me since she had actual knowledge on what plants we could eat. I was tasked with picking and carrying it all, since she was still in armour and it would be tedious to doff it.

I put the berries into one of the bags we’d used to carry the meat, sterilized by heat from Qent. “Are your ribs better?” Frejr asked, I paused midway as I registered concern in her voice. Did she actually decide to initiate a conversation? I thought in stunned surprise.

“I’ll be fine, they’ll fully heal in a few days.” I noted, it was still fractured, but at least I didn’t have to worry about bone chips in my lungs. I’d coughed up a few last night, and filled with misgivings ground them to powder so I could swallow them. She nodded.

We worked in silence for a while after that, it somehow not familiar or welcome. “Why does Qent travel with you? I heard something about him being one in a long line of others.” I asked, voicing a question I’d wondered for a while.

“This is Qent’s proving journey.” She said, pointing to another bush of berries with the point of her greatsword. “They attach their apprentices to certain people so that they can gain combat experience, and not falter at the sight of death, blood and gore. Most of them are attached to town guards and the armies.” She elaborated. “Besides me, there are no other irregulars that are chosen for this task.”

I nodded, digesting the information as I worked, and realized something. “I didn’t see any mages attached to the town guard.” I said, cocking my head slightly.

“They were drafted, passionately argued for by the army leaders.” Frejr noted. “The Tower compromised, due to the pressure from the public and the leaders of the nations those mages were attached to.” She said, not with distaste, but sadness. “It was a trial by fire few survived without scars.”

When we returned we found Qent and Numen heating the meat over a slow fire. “Are we making jerky? What then are we going to use the berries for?” Frejr asked. Numen simply smiled, gesturing for us to gather a few more bags. Frejr huffed, but smiled a little in return. “This better be worth it.” She said, dragging me off behind her.

Several hours later some of the meat had finished, small thin strips of jerky in their place. Numen had apparently separated the meat from the fat before starting, rendering it to tallow. Though I didn’t get to see the process, since I and Frejr were immediately tasked with a far more tedious task. “You want us to pound this meat into powder?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at her through the now transparent faceplate.

“Yes, hurry up, I want to finish this before it gets too dark.” She said, turning back to continue her slow dehydration of the meat. I looked down to the meat and the mortar and pestle. Sighing, I went to work. It was long, exhausting and strenuous, Frejr tagged in once I could no longer keep moving my arms, having finished nearly half the meat we’d gained from the wyvern. Frejr finished the other half, and as we sat back a heap of dried berried were shown to us.

“Don’t say it.” I moaned, clutching my arm close to myself as she opened her mouth. She smiled, and simply popped a few of the berries into the mortar. I grumbled, grabbing the pestle from an exhausted Frejr and getting to work on the berries, muttering several English expletives under my breath. I managed to finish most of the work before my left arm began to protest as well. Qent quickly regretted choosing to help us out.

Once it was done, I leant against a tree, stretching my sore arms and watching as Numen mixed the tallow and the powders together, forming something that looked like a glutinous rice cake. Numen quickly packed a bag of it, and all I could do was marvel at how little the end result was. It was now practically less than a hundredth of the wyvern’s volume.

She had passed us a little of the end result, and I stared at it for a while, mindful of the fact that the meat hadn’t actually been cooked. Frejr had eaten it from Numen with far less hesitation than I, and her face registered astonishment. “This… isn’t bad.” She conceded. “Though I understand why we do not do this regularly.” She said with a grimace, swivelling her arm in her socket.

[I suppose this would be what you would term ‘better than expected’.] Page remarked as I put it into my mouth. It was nice, the berries that we’d used adding well to the flavour.

We’d spent nearly half a day making the stuff, in the meantime Qent had also dried out the eyes of the wyvern we had killed, and Numen removed most of whatever meat was left on the skull. I dragged its brain out in clumps using a stick, and when that broke, take a guess? A piece of my armour, curled into a cylindrical hook, think a really thin candy cane. I’ve never had a candy cane myself though.

We arrived in the town Azarint and Rince were staying in, lounging around in the inn they had chosen to reside in as we waited for them. A few drinks were ordered, while Numen got to tracking down the various people who would buy what we’d gained from the wyvern. “I’ve found most of the buyers, just need to find someone who can buy the wyvern scales.” She informed us, leaning back in her chair as she sipped at her drink, pleased with herself.

“That would require something close to the capital, or just one of the cities.” Frejr noted thoughtfully. “The closest one would be Wrath’s capital, Eldin.” Wrath was the civilization Lrash belonged to. Her eyes lifted from Numen, and she nodded to the new arrivals. “Azarint. Rince.”

“Good to see you.” Rince said, his face split by a wide grin. “The bandits are done with, they weren’t much trouble at all.” He said, his voice turning more sober. “Something’s going on, I have no idea where they got their weapons, they had swords, spears, even halberds.” He said. “Some people might dismiss it, but even by a bit its more than what they should have.”

“I noticed the same.” Frejr said. “It is barely significant, but they are being supplied, this much is certain.” She steepled her fingers. “Unfortunately the leader of the bandits we fought died in our attack, so he cannot answer any of our questions. I assume you had similar luck.” Azarint nodded, grimacing slightly. He then gestured to the bags that we had brought with us.

“What are those?” He asked, eyes sliding across me and Numen. “Either of you looking to become merchants?” Numen smiled, lifting up the wyvern skull from one of the bags. Azarint’s eyes widened, and he gave a deep laugh. “Where did you manage to find a wyvern in those parts of the forest? Never mind, it looks like you’ve all been rather busy.” Rince fixed Numen with a look of admiration, never mind that we’d all taken part in taking it down.

“True, we have. A new job was given to us by the Tower though.” I said, gesturing for Qent to speak up. He nodded, and detailed the Tower’s request.