Chapter 19

Wil spent the day recovering on the beach, enjoying the sun, and watching the ocean of black blood drain away. It happened more quickly than he had expected, even with the torrent of water spilling into the black void beyond the shattered barrier.

He had retrieved his bag of holding and redonned his armor. Although things seemed peaceful with the monster’s demise, Aachen had taught him to always be prepared for everything. ‘Hope for the best but prepare for the worst’ was a motto that Garman had ingrained deeply into him, one that he would never forget.

One strange aspect of the retreating waters, on top of all the weird things present in this inner world, was how the water didn’t stain the ground or beach black with its retreat. The white sand underneath the water was as pristine as the rest, the green grass and trees that were revealed were healthy and vibrant.

Shaking his head at the peculiarities of the Dragon Turtle’s inner world, Wil stared into the distance, where he felt the pulsating and corrupting presence of the pair of remaining infectious sources.

“Only ‘Mind’ and ‘Spirit’ left, if that bastard was the ‘body’.” Wil muttered, eating from a pack of rations, long-lasting crackers and a wedge of cheese encased in wax. Washing it down with tea, he mused about the results of his actions here.

If he were to guess, the Dragon Turtle in the real world would have the infection in its body reduced, but its magic would still be sealed, and it must be slowly going mad from the black blood. All three sources needed to be eliminated before it could truly be free.

The day passed, and Wil traveled the newly revealed landscape, slowly walking towards the closest source of negative energy. He had gotten better at judging distance here in the Inner Realm, and he estimated it would be a week or more to travel to the next target.

With the ocean gone, trees, forests, farmland, even a desert had been buried under the waters, now each were perfectly restored. And, as beautiful as the land here happened to be, it was all an impediment to his quest.

It was near the center of the newly drained ocean floor that he found the oddest object he had ever encountered. It was a treasure chest, one that sat in the center of a bare stretch of hard packed dirt, with nothing around it.

Made of well lacquered wood, with silver latches and hinges, it had a faint haze of magic around it. Wil could smell the ozone in the air from the ambient mana it was drawing in.

He walked slowly towards the chest before he cautiously drew his sword and gave it a tentative ‘poke’ with the tip. The chest rocked slightly at his nudge, and something rattled from within.

“Really? Treasure chests? What am I, a pirate captain? Is this your, ‘making it worth it’, for my help?” Wil shouted into the sky, arms spread wide as he taunted the Dragon Turtle, sure that it was paying attention to his actions in its ‘Inner Realm’.

Shaking his head at the absurdity of his reward being delivered in such a manner, Wil knelt in front of the wooden chest, rubbing his hands along its lacquered and smooth surface. He was impressed, it was quality work, and the enhancements were subtle, enough to protect the contents from the elements and jostling.

Opening the chest, he expected to be greeted by a flash of light, or maybe a fairy’s song to signify the significance of the Dragon Turtle’s gift, but he was disappointed as the lid simply fell backwards on its hinges, the contents a simple, small item wrapped in oiled cloth.

Reaching in with both hands, Wil lifted the cloth from the small object, taking in a deep breath of air at what was revealed.

It was a small, mechanical owl. Made of brass, silver, and gold, it was barely bigger than Wil’s two hands. He could see the fine craftsmanship that went into its construction, the gears and widgets that made up its interior barely visible through a tiny glass window on its chest.

Picking it up, he was stunned by the weight of the construct, it was much heavier than its small body would appear. Twisting and turning it in his hands he was again impressed by the details of the bird.

Its feathers were made of metal, with tiny engravings of marking lines on each. Running his hand down them, he almost expected it to feel soft and lifelike, rather than metal.

The owl’s eyes were closed, and again he marveled at the detail on its face. Aside from the gears and internals, and the clearly metallic sheen, he could almost swear the thing would come to life in a moment.

But it was lifeless and unmoving, he couldn’t even detect a hint of mana or magic around it.

Wondering why the Dragon Turtle would gift him such a…toy? Wil channeled a small spark of mana into the metal bird, not expecting much from it.

His mana was pulled into the center of the machine, a blue spark of life shooting through its chest. Its closed eyes opened abruptly, and its wings flapped frantically as Wil yelled in shock at the sudden movement.

Dropping the owl, he leapt backwards, his sword held overhead as he prepared to slice it in half.

Floundering on the ground, the small amount of mana he gave the bird wore off and its movement slowed, the gears within grinding to a halt.

Forcefully slowing his breathing, Wil sheathed his sword as he knelt next to the fallen owl, eyeing it critically for any sign of life.

“Its clearly a magical artifact of some kind. But where in the nine layers of hell did something like this come from?” Wil mused, picking up the owl again. Closing the treasure chest, Wil placed the mechanical bird on the lid, standing it upright on its tiny metal claws as he looked it over for any kind of markings.

Not seeing anything on the outside of the item to indicate its origins, or how it functioned, he was considering whether or not to take it apart when he had a thought.

In Illyria, most of the magical items Wil encountered were already well known, commonly used things that’s function were already researched and easily accessible.

Exotic, high ranked or rare items would generally be owned by wealthy nobility, or high-ranking members of society. Wil and the other students at the academy wouldn’t have a prayer of interacting with them.

Adding to their difficulty to encounter, artifacts with unknown origins were dangerous, requiring years of experience to handle, although there was an easy to learn, Tier 1 spell and corresponding ritual to determine their function.

Reaching into his bag of holding, Wil fished around for a moment before pulling out his spell book. Sitting on the bare ground, he put the book in his lap and began to flip through it rapidly.

‘Identify’ was a Tier 1 spell and incredibly simple to cast. However, it was relatively expensive, the ritual required several components that could easily beggar a poorer student at the academy.

Wil hadn’t been stymied by the cost, but the reason he hadn’t bothered learning the spell or the ritual was simple, it required the trust and confidence of a professor to ‘lend’ him an item to identify.

Things went wrong with spell casting sometimes, especially when first learning a new magic. The fear of accidently destroying an item, combined with someone of Wil’s ‘reputation’, the professors had determined he couldn’t be trusted with a cup of tea, let alone a valuable magical artifact.

Wil could have bought an item and learned the spell on his own, but what point was there to that?

If he could buy the item, then he could also pay to learn its usage. So, Wil the Wastrel hadn’t bothered to learn it at all, which is why he was now sat in the dirt, his spell book in his lap, muttering a string of curses at the Academy for failing him yet again.

The first failing was making him choose History (It had been his choice) over runes and warding, and now not teaching him a valuable spell (He had told his professors to shove their magical item somewhere very unpleasant.)

“Found It!” Wil exclaimed turning to the required page and reading the spell carefully.

It was a rather simple spell matrix for him, a Rank 5, to learn, but the ritual required several items that Wil didn’t have. Flipping the pages, he searched for alternative components. Running his finger down the list, he found that he had all of them, in some form or another.

“Let’s see, blank parchment, got plenty. Owl Feather Quill, don’t have that, but I do have an eagle’s feather, could work…. a pearl…hopefully powered pearl works…” Wil listed the components, making substitutes as he laid them out.

Setting the quill against the parchment, Wil created the matrix, feeding his mana into it as he laid the components around the Owl. With a brief flash of light, the matrix erupted, and Wil waited as the quill dipped itself in ink and started writing on the blank page.

Kneeling forward, he read aloud as it wrote.

“Clockwork Owl. Creator: Unknown, Origin Unknown. Really helpful, thanks.” Wil muttered as the quill continued to write. Sometimes, using substitutes affected the quality of the magic.

“Unique creation to serve as a mount for a mage to fly across the Azure Sea. It unfortunately encountered a storm, falling into the ocean. Requires dense ambient mana or its owner to channel mana directly into it. Flying time is dependent on the Tier of spell used to ‘feed’ it.” Wil finished, looking at the owl as it stood lifeless on the chest.

“This little thing is a mount?” Wil scoffed, not believing the owl could lift his bag of holding, let alone a person the size of him.

“Still, it could be useful for something.” Wil said, standing up and walking back to the owl. Gingerly placing his hand on it, he forced a Tier 1 spell’s worth of mana into its body.

The center of the Owl’s chest lit up as it came to life again, the gears and widgets turning within it. Flapping its wings as its eyes opened, it hopped around a bit before focusing on Wil.

In a flash, it had shot off the wooden treasure chest, beak opened as it bit deeply into his hand, drawing blood.

“Son of a Bitch!” Wil yelled, flinging the Clockwork owl from his hand as he stepped backwards. The owl, obvious to his pain, paused a moment, before the blue light shifted to green, and it flew into the air.

The owl hooted as it flew around him, heedless of Wil as he dug into his bag, looking for a bandage for his bleeding hand.

“Stop that!” Wil shouted, annoyed at its constant hoots as he wrapped his hand. The owl instantly stopped, even halting its flapping wings as it slowly drifted back to the treasure chest, standing on top and tilting its head at him.

“Useless metal bird, you should be grateful I dug you out of that box. Do you do anything beside bite people?” Wil questioned, his hand tightly wrapped as he stared balefully at the creature.

“Hoot Hoot?” It said, tilting its head before leaping forward again.

“Gods damn it!” Wil screamed, tumbling backwards as the owl left the treasure chest, but instead of attacking, it stood on the bare earth, the green glow from its chest becoming brighter, the gears within its body whirling faster.

Wil watched in awe as the owl expanded in front of him. The small bird, which had only been big enough to hold in his two hands, grew to be much larger than him. Big enough that he could easily stand on its head or sit comfortably on its back.

“Alright…so you’re not totally useless after all, Bitey.” Wil muttered, naming his new companion. Walking over to his new mount, he glanced down at the parchment. The quill had continued writing after he had stopped paying attention to it.

“Beware, Clockwork Owl will require blood to form a bond with its owner. May Bite!”

“Thanks for the warning.” Wil muttered.