“There you are!” Bordan’s annoyed voice called from behind Edwin. He turned around and greeted his fellow adventurers with a smile.

“Good morning to you too. I woke up early and figured I’d get a start on the day.”

Edwin was standing in the small village square, leisurely leaning against the wooden side of a building that was being warmed by the morning’s sunshine.

“You shouldn’t get a start on anything except resting. And where did you get that?”

Bordan pointed at the crude wooden crutch under Edwin’s left arm.

“I ran across some of the local children, and they were all too happy to procure it for me for the low price of a retelling of some of our recent fights. But that’s not important, it’s actually good that you’re here.”

Edwin pushed off the wall and hobbled across the square, animatedly waving them to follow.

“First thing I did today was paying a visit to the butcher, and the man kindly agreed to my request. He also dug out our weapons and ammunition that we’d left in the bodies, so I have my mace back, which is nice. Anyway, look over here.”

Edwin stopped in front of the butcher’s shop, where two wolf carcasses were hanging from their hind legs. They had already been skinned and cleaned and were waiting to be cut up further.

“Salissa, remember what we talked about yesterday? I asked him to leave your wolf for last, and cut it so that we could see the wound you left. And you know what? I was right! Here, take a look.”

Edwin pointed out the spot he meant, and the others crowded around him. After a few seconds, Leodin spoke up.

“It looks weird for an arrow wound, but I don’t get what you mean.”

“Okay, so the question was why the wolf was pushed backwards instead of the arrow simply going through, right? I’m pretty sure I know the answer now, and it’s fascinating! Let me catch you up on the history, here. I assume none of you have read the diary of lord Omber Herne?”

Empty (and annoyed, in the case of Bordan) looks answered him, and he continued.

“Well, listen up then: Lord Herne was an officer during the mage wars in the old world. The good lord was one of the lucky ones who survived the war, and when he came home he finished this diary – it’s more of a memoir, really, most of it is believed to have been written afterwards – stuck it into a bookcase in his family’s expansive library, and never told anyone about it. When his descendants went into exile, they packed up their whole collection and brought it with them.”

“Waste of space.” Leodin grumbled.

Edwin shook his head with mock sadness. “You’re a philistine, Leodin, and it breaks my heart. Anyway, the books stayed in their boxes until after the war against the Volarki. Our ancestors finally had the time to rebuild their civilization, and a lot of the less important luggage was finally taken out of storage. Somebody checked the books in this particular crate, and luckily they had the knowledge to realize that they’d found something important. We don’t have a lot of first-hand testimony from the mage wars, almost none actually, and lord Herne had written about something that none of the others mentioned.”

“Is this still about that wolf?” Bordan asked with a raised eyebrow. “Because it doesn’t feel like it’s about the wolf.”

“Patience, I’m getting there. In one chapter, Herne described that he’d seen a Tyrant use telekinesis to rip a man apart in mid-air.”

“What?” Salissa asked, surprised.

“If you were about to say that that’s impossible, you’re in good company.” Edwin turned to Bordan and Leodin. “Magical constructs, like the invisible ‘hand’ that allows mages to move things from afar, disintegrate when they touch the aura of a living creature. That’s why it is believed, and taught, that it’s impossible to use telekinesis on a person.”

“So, was this guy lying?” Leodin asked.

“We don’t know, but that’s certainly what most people believe. His case isn’t helped by the fact that he was a mundane, which makes it much easier for mages to dismiss his testimony. A minority of more scientifically minded individuals argued that dismissing Herne’s story was hasty. The Tyrants had skills and power that surpassed not just ours today, but even those of their contemporaries during a time when magic wasn’t as highly regulated. Many of them were liches and had centuries to hone their craft.”

“Wolf.” Reminded Bordan.

“Yes, yes, I know, I just wanted you to understand the severity of this discovery! It’s been believed for a very long time that telekinesis can’t affect living tissue. And now look at the wound.”

Edwin gestured at the carcass, his finger following the path of the arrow that was clearly visible in the halved animal’s meat.

“The arrow entered here at the front, narrowly missed the heart and traveled lengthwise through the wolf. The grasp immediately started to disintegrate, but because of the arrow’s speed we don’t see the effect until here.”

Edwin’s finger stopped where the wound canal started to get wider and more uneven.

“The grasp was breaking down from the outside in, but because Salissa was pumping in so much mana so quickly, it didn’t just disappear. Instead, the surface of it frayed like a rope into thin tendrils that remained actively telekinetic. Those tendrils then latched onto the flesh around them and started to pull on that as well as the arrow. The arrow had turned from a thin stick into the equivalent of a spiked ball that was being pushed through the wolf with immense force. The wound ends over here, because the grasp had become so large that instead of moving it through the body, Salissa pushed the entire wolf away from her.”

Edwin turned around to his audience with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. He was met with wide eyes and disturbed faces.

“That’s disgusting.” Leodin finally said.

“That thing was trying to eat me, and I still feel bad now.” Salissa agreed.

“Come on, this is big!” Edwin said defensively. “Now we know that it’s possible in theory, we can go about figuring out what makes it work. Is there a trick to it, or did we simply never have enough power to counteract the aura? This might fundamentally change our understanding of auric interaction!”

Bordan cleared his throat. “This sounds exactly like the kind of thing the College don’t want people to be able to do. Also, who is we, exactly?”

“Oh, you know.” Edwin felt his face heat up. “People. Everyone. Everyone except you, I guess, because you don’t care about advancing science.” He scratched his head. “You might be on to something, though. The inquisitors are always really paranoid when it comes to these things, and they would probably crack down on it just because the idea came from the Tyrants.” He snorted. “As if thoughts could be corrupted by the person who thought them first.”

Bordan’s forehead wrinkled as he was trying to decide if it was worth debating the point, when a new arrival disrupted their conversation.

“Ho there.” Headwoman Morna greeted them as she stepped out of the butcher’s shop. “Good to see you on your feet, Edwin. Wait, should you be on your feet?”

“No.” Bordan said.

“Yes.” Edwin answered at the same time.

Morna stopped next to them and raised an eyebrow, then shrugged.

“Anyway, I just spoke to Haford and he’s quite happy with your haul. Usually when adventurers kill something, the pelt is full of holes, which is bad for its resale value. Two of these are practically pristine, which is good for me, because I can sell them, and good for you because I’ll pay you a premium.”

She then quoted a price that was most definitely not premium, and Leodin came alive. The young man was usually quiet, but during the last weeks Edwin had discovered that there were a few things that really got him going. Haggling was one of them. Fifteen minutes later both sides were somewhat happy with the number, and Bordan changed the topic.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you: Our next stop is New Barstig, but our map doesn’t have a road that gets us there. Do you know a way?”

“New Barstig?” Morna scratched her neck in thought. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Can I see that map of yours?”

Bordan wasn’t carrying it on him, so they relocated to their accommodation. A short while later they were sitting around a table with the map in question spread out between them.

“That’s tough.” Morna said. “There definitely isn’t a direct road, but I can point you in the right direction.”

She tapped her finger on the dot that said ‘Gerron’s Vale’ next to it, then dragged it down.

“There used to be villages to the south of us, way back when, but the soil there is even worse than here, so they failed. The last one was abandoned fifteen, maybe twenty years ago. If I recall correctly, they had a road that connected them to the eastern trade road. If you head that way, you should be able to spend the nights in the abandoned villages until you find the correct fork, then you’re at least in the right area. I can ask around, see if any of the geezers remember anything that can help you. How long will you be staying?”

“At least today, maybe tomorrow.” Bordan said. “We’ll have to see how well Edwin can travel.”

“I’ll come back this evening then.” With that, Morna left.