“What’s Dead Strand Grotto?” Rory asked.

Toben gently set the barrel of supplies he’d carried up from the dock on the sprawling covered porch in front of his home.

“It is what my ancestors called the nearby font of mana. Over the years, it has solidified a heart, like a pearl creating an oyster to protect itself,” the giant explained. “But how do you know that name?”
“It’s a skill,” Rory quickly answered. “Like a map the four of us can see.”
“Most useful,” he smiled.
Jack chuckled, “Yeah, we’d be lost without it.”
Layla broke in, “So, hey, what do we need to know about this place?”
“Some of the old ones in the Hunter’s Guild call them ferliesen, but I know not why. The word is old and has no real meaning,” Toben shrugged.

Rory perked up at the word, “It’s German. It means, like, prison… or…”
“What, like a dungeon!?” Layla suddenly shouted.
“Yeah, like a dungeon,” Rory grinned.

Toben shook his head and continued, “The font is a natural thing, where mana of a certain element flows into the world. Over many years, the place where the mana intrudes hardens and forms a crystal heart, which protects the pathway. Creatures of the same element are drawn to the heart and feel forced to protect it, and new creatures born close enough to the heart share its element. The Dead Strand is very large, but it has not grown in many years. The village sits at the edge of the domain, where the fish grow larger and hardier. Much further, to the north along the coast, coral grows above the shoreline, and creatures aspected to the Tide roam the beach. The heart lies within a grotto, about twenty leagues to the north.”
“How long is a league?” Rory interrupted.
Toben laughed, “I forget that your kind knows little of this land. A league is a thousand stride. A stride is equal the step of one of average height. Here, I will show you,” he walked to the canoes tied up on the shore and pulled off a length of rope that was knotted. “This is a stride,” he indicated a length of rope between two knots, about three feet.

Jack pulled the big man’s hands down and measured the rope against his outstretched hand to the middle of his chest.

“It’s right at three feet. Hell, it might actually be exactly a yard. Which means, twenty leagues, twenty-thousand yards-” he looked upward as he battled with the math.
“Eleven miles,” Layla grinned at him. He rolled his eyes at her, but gave her a smile.

Toben chuckled gently as they made their discoveries, then cleared his throat.

“The Empire’s legion, and most Hunters, train to make their steps exactly one stride, to make it easier to count distance. The legion also has mechanika that can measure distance from a height,” he explained.

Layla scratched her head, then suddenly burst out, “Wait, that means the Dead Strand’s mana field covers over twenty miles across. Holy hell.”
“In truth, it is small for a font that has grown for so long. Usually, this means a creature has bonded with the heart, and controls the spread of the domain,” Toben mused.
“You mean… like… a dungeon boss?” Erin grinned fiercely.
“A boss,” Toben turned the word over in his mouth. “A lord, yes. A creature that bonds with the heart becomes immortal as long as the heart remains, but can never leave the domain’s borders. If it is slain, the heart will resurrect it in time. The same is true for creatures of the same element that live within the inner mantle.”
“You mean… the monsters in the dungeon respawn!?” Layla gaped at him.
“The heart will recreate the creatures to defend itself,” he nodded.
“So, it’s alive?” Rory offered.
“In the way that a tree is alive, yes. It has no will or thought. It acts only by instinct. A bonded creature can exert some control over the heart if it has the resolve, but many are simply powerful beasts,” the giant responded.
“Why do you live so close if it’s full of dangerous monsters?” Erin asked him.

He chuckled at them.

“The fish in the marsh to the east and the bay to the north are creatures of the Tide. They grow larger and their flesh is more nourishing, and the font’s mana causes them to breed faster and more numerous. The corals and plants that grow above the shoreline are used in medicine and alchemy. The shells of the giant crabs can be made into arms and armor,” he stated. “So long as the heart survives, our village is blessed by its bounty.”

“What happens if the bonded creature dies?” Jack asked.
“It has been slain by Hunters before, many times. It is restored by the heart in a few weeks. During this time, we gather the village and make forays into the lower mantle, harvesting the rare materials and more difficult to reach resources. But it has been years since the creature was slain,” he smiled wistfully.
“So, what is it?” Erin pitched in.
“A giant shrimp, the color of a rainbow,” he laughed.
“How giant?” Rory’s eyes narrowed.
“Tall as a warhorse, three times as long,” he laughed again at their agape faces.
“Any tips? How does it fight? What’s the room like where it lives? Does it have any tricks? Special moves? Ultimate attacks? What DPS do we need to down it? Enrage timer?” Layla began firing off questions, the others watching as Toben’s face grew gradually more confused.
“El, not a game, remember?” Erin poked her.

She shot Erin an irritated scowl, then a moment of self-awareness stole her anger and she melted into a sheepish embarrassment. 

“Yeah… you don’t know what any of that means… Could you tell us what you know about the boss?” she politely asked.

Toben began laughing, quietly at first, then sat down where he stood to guffaw, a tear rolling down his cheek as he held his sides. At least, he was laughing until the door of his house opened and a woman a head taller than Erin stalked out holding a lantern and a hatchet.

“Toba?” the woman stopped a dozen feet from the door and held up the lantern.

He sat up and smiled warmly at her, “Hello, my pearl.”
“You woke the boys, Toba,” she grimaced at him, but the crinkling around her eyes made it plain she was happy to see him.
“I am sorry, my heart.” 

He wasn’t. He levered himself up from the ground, and walked toward her, where he pulled the hatchet from her hands and tossed it to the ground. Then he relieved her of the lantern and set it down. Finally, he pulled her into his arms and lifted her off the ground, pressing his lips against hers. She melted into his arms and they stayed like that as the minutes passed.

Jack: I don’t think we should interrupt them. Finish unpacking?
Rory: Sounds good.
Erin: They’re so sweet.
Layla: Nauseating. You’re allllllllll nauseating.

She grinned as she sent the message and turned to help them unload.

Toben held his wife for, what the four of them agreed, was an excessive length of time. Finally, she pulled herself away from his lips and they parted.

“Well, who are your new friends, Toba?” she poked him.

Then she noticed his chest.

“What in the wastelands is THAT!?” she yelled at him.
“It is a gift, from the great mother,” he replied placidly.
“Toben, what have you done!?” she snatched up the lantern and shone it in his face.
“Enora, it was a gift. A night priest has come,” he jerked his head sideways, at his four guests.
“There are no night priests, you giant fool. Now tell me what mad thing you have done!” she poked him directly in the mark on his chest, which flared with a twinkle of bluish-silver light, somehow managing to be offended.

Her expression was suddenly horrified, and she dropped to her knees and began to fervently mumble a prayer of contrition. Jack broke from the group and walked to her, placing his hand on her head.

“Have all seekers forgotten how to stand?” 

His eyes burned with dark fire, and the drumbeat in his chest echoed as dark mana played across his hand and shadows writhed across his armor. 

“Stars… Toben… a night priest,” Enora looked up at him, tears beginning to stream down her face.
“I tried to tell you, my pearl,” he said softly.
“I am sorry, holy one. May twilight ever reveal your path,” she whispered and made the sign of Ilani.

“Stand,” he took her hand and pulled her up.

Toben’s wife was an inch taller than Jack, with brilliant brown eyes, shining dark skin, and thick braids that terminated in a poofy bun of natural hair behind her head. As she neared Jack, delicate silver tattoos began to shine at her throat and across her chest.

“Do you desire the same blessing your mate received?” Jack’s voice was once again blended with something far older and echoed deeply against the stone walls of Toben’s home. The still essence of his flaring night mana pushed out, flowing between and around each of those watching, wider and steadier than it had been on the river bank.

Slowly, lamps were lit and curtains began to draw back, the village blearily waking to discover the miracle in their midst.

“Yes. Wherever he walks, I wish to stand beside him,” she whispered.

He placed a hand burning with twisting black fire on her chest, just below her throat, and a rush of dark mana exploded outward. When his hand fell away, a great branching tree was still etching itself among the silver lines of her tattoos. It was wider and fuller than Toben’s mark, a symbol of spring and renewal.

“Thank you,” she hugged Jack tightly.

“Ilani’s light be with you, and may you both keep faith as long as you live.”

The field of shadowed mana collapsed, and Jack gripped Enora’s hands as the divine power receded. This time he kept his feet, but a pair of droplets of black ichor rolled down his cheeks like bloody tears. He wiped one away with his hand, and seeing the dark fluid, quickly wiped the rest away.

“That went way better than last time,” he turned to the others and grinned, then abruptly stumbled.

Then suddenly the familiar numb feeling in his chest informed him he was definitely going to pass out again, soon. Before he blacked out, he scowled at Layla, who was holding her hand in front of her mouth, failing to stifle her giggling.

Jack: Oh, fuck you, El...

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