It’s been a long day, with many questions that follow me into my slumber. Where I’m met with dreams of forgotten grudges.

z = Z = z

   I’m back behind the wheel. Driving down a road that I can’t see the end of.

   “Hell of a beer run." Comes a mans voice from the backseat.

   “As long as I get what I asked for, I really wouldn’t care even if we really did need to go hell to get the beer,” I reply to him.

   He has differing feelings about the matter, “I would! The heat down there would ruin it.”

   Sighing I ask, “As for my payment?”

   Fumbling around with a beer in one hand he grabs something, “Here.” He passes me a plastic bag filled with dirty metal and wires. “Don’t know what you’ll do with it though. Even if you can clean it up and get it installed. You don’t look much like a doctor, at least not much like the corpse of the one I got it from.”

   I return my eyes to watching the rood ahead, “Still plenty of books to read from if I want to learn, but I think I’ll be using a more hands on approach. Besides I couldn't find a manual for dissecting those pink freaks anyways.”

   It’s silent the rest of the ride. Eventually the sun has moved and starts blinding me as I drive into the light.

z = Z = z

   I stir, waking from my rest. The sun’s light is already at work brightening up the sky, and disturbing my sleep. Breakfast consists of the usual corn flatbread. My recent diet has been fairly awful at fulfilling nutritional requirements. Grains and fats won’t be a healthy way to sustain myself in the long-run. The villagers here tend to get a more varied diet from trading with the caravan that comes by every few weeks, along with their knowledge of local herbs and the willingness to eat less comestible foods.

   After leaving my residence, I head to Trijen’s where Artisie and Rolt are staying. I assume this is because it's the only place large enough to accommodate guests. Knocking on the front door. I’m greeted by Rolt. He is the more diligent of the two. I find it unfortunate though that his job is to observe, and as such he rarely talks or takes action. Even in yesterday’s battle he kept to the back away from the conflict.

   Hope he is not the type to be grouchy in the morning, “Is Artisie awake? I made a discovery that may let us make passage into the forest.”

   “No.” His voice if gruff¹Of a rough or stern manner,.

   Seems like he has somewhere to be so I won't be keeping him, “Straight to the point, I'll return later.”

   I step to the side as he pushes past, ending our short discussion. Looking for a way to waste some time I try to check in on Dalp, but am turned away by his wife again. Which leaves me standing near the well. Where I listen to some idle chatter and gossip. It doesn’t take long to pick out the familiar face of Mari who’s come to fetch water. Finding this opportunity to get some more answers I approach her.

   I should try and pay her back a little for helping so she doesn't start seeing me as an annoyance, “Mari, I’ll help carry your water pails if you’ll help me with some questions.”

   Looking at me, she raises the corners of her lips forming a pleasant smile, “Why thank you, and I’d be delighted to.”

   When the pails are finished being filled I pick them up, “I’ve recently heard some new terms I’m unsure of. Something about a open path and states of manifestation?”

   Walking she gestures at me to follow, “hmm, you do know about magic?”

   Not a bit, "It’s typically an excuse people use when they can’t explain things.”

   She looks at me with disbelief, “Aren't you a bit too green to be that cynical, but I’ll explain anyways." Taking a deep breath she explains, "The knowledge of how to use temporal magic was brought to our world from a higher realm. Before then only artifacts that had fallen here used a type of arcane magic that pulls it's power from another plane. Which is different from temporal magic, as it is the manipulation of the spirit to create physical phenomena.”

   The artifacts here sound similar to the ones back home, but not the temporal. Shes introduced me to more terms I'm unfamiliar with, “The spirit?”

   Ever happy to teach she goes on, “Yes, this spirit manipulation splits into two branches. Which are syncing and sculpting. In the first the body and spirit are brought closer in sync to empower a person. In the second the spirit is reshaped so it can be called on to manifest effects upon the world.”

   How does that fit with the other things I've heard, “And about the steps and paths?”

   Her eyebrows raise for a second, “They signify how much a person has developed. For those who pursue Empowerment, they must first open the path between the body and spirit. Then they may take their steps down it. And for those who want to practice Manifestation, they must open the gate between their mind and spirit. After which they sculpt their spirit and progress it through different stages.”

   How does she know all this? “You seem quite learned for someone from around here.”

   She straightens and puts her hand on her chest in a prideful manner, “Well, I did receive some education in Lindwel. I had a teacher there.”

   This is the second time I've heard of this Lindwel, “I thought you were from here.”

   Her body loses some of it's rigidness, “I am, but I spent some time there.”

   We reach her house, and I realize that enough time has been wasted, “It’s been a pleasure, but I have other things that I am required for.”

   She gives a small curtsy, I assume is meant to show off her education, “Then farewell, I hope we talk again.”

   I set down the water and give a small wave as I part. Returning to Trijen’s house, I knock again on the door. This time I’m greeted by Trijen.

   He eagerly asks, “What did you discover?”

   Making assumptions when maybe I'm just here for tea, but he's not wrong, “I’ll tell you an Artisie together, as I don’t particularly feel like repeating myself. So where is she?”

   “She’s outback fretting over something.”  Giving a tilt of his head in her direction.

   Hopefully its nothing major, “Then lead the way.”

   I follow Trijen behind his house, where there’s an agitated Artisie and ever silent Rolt. She’s rubbing a spot on her magic rod, while mumbling.

   she looks under the weather to say the least, “What’s troubling you?”

   Pointing at the spot she was rubbing, she tells me, “I casted that waterball while my wand was still stained from the fire element, and now it’s cracked. It’s the only one I have with me.”

   Sounds problematic, “Will it still work?”

   Her face is downcast, “Yes, but not as well, and it might break entirely.”

   Then we make do. I never needed magic before, as long as you ignore that I also didn't have access to it before either, “You’ll just need to use it sparingly.” Saying that I Clap my hands once and announce, “Now that we’re gathered I’ll tell you about my findings. About the spores, They have trouble latching on to certain surfaces. Soaking a cloth with oil will prevent the spores from sticking to the fabric.”

   Trijen looks at me questioningly, “That sounds too simple, the expedition had a researcher with them. Surely he would of thought of it.”

   A researcher, to bad we don't have his notes, “Even if he did, I doubt he would have had people willing to risk their lives to test the theory that covering their head in a oil soaked cloth could protect them.”

   Rolt's eyes narrow speaking as he speaks for once, “You’re not planning on using us to test it are you?”

   It seems he is willing to step in if he feels like Artisie is about to be swindled. However his worries are unfounded as I've found testing things without the subjects approval never ends well, “No, I’ve already tested it myself, the oil just needs reapplication after continued exposure.” Looking to the still worried Artisie, I say, “You’re the one who took the job, what do you think?”

   Tearing her attention from the stick she asks, “Do you have enough oil for everyone?”

   Why must I be the one to provide the resources, “Not even enough for myself, but with Trijen deciding to join us I figured he may have some.”

   Trijen contemplates, before telling us, “There’s a small barrel of rancid corn oil I’ve been using to fuel my lantern.”

   Artisie looks at Rolt and he stares back. With resolve likely born out of fear for her evaluation she speaks boldy, “Get the oil, and I’ll grab some more bandages. Make sure you have everything you need we’ll meet back up by the well.”