Chapter 122 – Minion
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“It’s funny,” Bud said. “Days of travelling, and the whole time I was looking forward to reaching the city and having a hot meal. Then once we were there I could hardly wait to leave.”

Hump gave Bud a sidelong look. “It’s nice one of us is positive about going out to look for monsters.”

“It’s better than being in that godforsaken city,” Dylan said. “The smell, the crowd, the unfairness of it all—I don’t know how anyone stands it.”

“I’m with them on this,” Celaine said. “Better to be out hunting than locked up in stone walls.”

“Hump’s just grouchy because he wants to own a castle.” Bud laughed.

“Right,” Hump grumbled. “Sometimes I forget I’m travelling with a mad knight and two nature fanatics. We’re going to be deep into winter soon, I’d like to see how keen you are then.”

“Not as keen as you, I bet,” Celaine said. “I still can’t believe you got that robe.”

Hump adjusted it as pompously as he could, the material soft against his hand and better quality than anything he’d owned before. “It is a damn fine robe.”

It didn’t take long for the joy of being back out on the road to wear thin for all of them. A day’s riding did that. By the end of it, Hump felt as stiff and sore as ever. They’d passed an inn a ways back, but it was packed so full of people they didn’t even have a stable pen to spare them. In the end, they’d had no choice but to continue down the road, setting camp for the night in a patch of thick trees. There wasn’t much in the way of shelter, so Hump crossed his fingers it wouldn’t rain. He didn’t much fancy a knight wrapped up in oilskins.

The weather held for the next few days. He'd spent every moment he could studying and practicing Burning Wisps, even reading for a while as they rode. Most important of all was memorising the details of the formation—not just how it looked, but how it functioned, and the intent that was supposed to be behind each rune. Even after a week, holding that much information in his head was challenging. He had, however, managed to create some flames along the way. Nothing that resembled the spell, mind you. But it was progress. And now that he finally had a moment to himself, Hump intended to make it count.

While the others collected firewood one evening, he set about inscribing the formation on the ground. The process was difficult, so he used his essence channel bracelet to help control his essence usage, careful not to overflow any of the runes as he went. It was a challenging spell alright, and one quite foreign to him compared to something like Earthen Grasp. He’d never had to imbue a spell with intent before, but he knew he could do it. After all, he’d given intent to his essence when fighting the gorger.

He followed the book to the line, carving out each and every mark into the ground, lacing it with his will. It was far too powerful to use the formation in his spellbook, the limit of Tier 1 spells seeming a certainty at this point. He’d experimented with Rockshot in particular, but it seemed no matter what, his spellbook wouldn’t allow him to wield the formations of anything over Rank 1 within. He’d tried to push it, but the book just wouldn’t accept his essence, refusing him with ease. He could at least copy its design though, following the intent with his senses rather than relying on an ordinary spellbook.

When it was done, he stood back and searched for any mistakes, making a few adjustments here and there, but generally he felt good about it. The marks were of smooth stone, etched into the dirt with a sliver of essence, packing the crumbing earth into something durable. They were smooth and consistent. It was time.

He reached out for it with his essence, flickers of red filling the air around him, the runes of his staff shining as power poured through them. He felt the connection formed, and infused it with his intent and power, taking it under his control. It was a slow process. Rushing would only mean failure. He needed to familiarise himself with the layout of the runes and channels in his mind, moving essence through them with conscious effort. At some point, he heard the others get back. He felt their gazes on him, but they let him focus. He could feel the spell beginning to form like a spark. The individual elements coming together to form something more, something greater.

When it felt completely right, its power stable, each rune glowing in time, he whispered, “Burning Wisps.”

Essence poured from him—far more than the spell demanded, but efficiency would come with practice. Essence flared from the runes, smoking into the air around it. Wasted power. At its core though, a small flame started to take form, flicking just above the ground. The flame flicked and swirled, and from the sweeping tendrils, a tiny figure emerged. It was hardly bigger than a finger, its body appearing and disappearing amid the flicker of flame as if overwhelmed by it.

Hump beamed at it. It was glorious. Not just a spell, but a construct, instilled with its own intent.

“Oh, it looks good,” Bud said, leaning forward to get a better look.

“Does it?” Celaine asked. “It’s a bit small, no?”

Hump was indifferent to their comments, unable to look away from his fascinating little creature as it flickered and danced before him.

“Small but mighty,” he said. “Watch this.”

He willed it to move to the left, and the flame floated sluggishly in that direction. He commanded it to the right, then made it float up into the air, then back to earth. It was slow, but each time it followed his instruction, Hump’s grin widened.

“This is amazing,” Hump said. “Bud, pile up some wood. I want to light the fire.”

Bud did as he said, creating a small campfire that Hump directed his minion toward. It floated into the space, settling beneath dried branches and kindling, the damp wood flaring at its touch. And then Hump gave it purpose. Light the fire.

Immediately the spell grew larger. The wood caught, spitting and cracking in the evening light, smoke billowing out into the air.

Hump shook his fists in excitement. “It worked!”

The orange flame became hotter and wilder, the flames flickering up into the air and turning red. He felt essence building, drained from him too fast for him to control. He fought against his pull, and the moment he did… it exploded.

A boom shook the air. The fire was blasted to pieces, flames and essence bursting outward. Bits of wood and dirt flying everywhere. When it settled, there was nothing left of the fire but waning embers.

“My minion, no!”

Celaine spurted out a mouthful of water, coughing hysterically as she laughed. “You’re getting the firewood this time.”

Hump tutted at her. “Have you no heart?” She just laughed harder, so Hump turned to his more reliable companions. “Bud, Dylan, you’ll help me won’t you?”

Dylan chuckled. “You’re on your own on this one.”

“Shout if something tries to eat you,” Bud added.

“Brilliant,” Hump grumbled, rising to his feet. He tried to collect some of the wood that had been on the fire, but it was all so broken up he quickly gave up, heading into the nearby trees instead. The days without rain made it an easy task to find some bits dry enough to set alight easily, and he had more than enough essence to spare as they travelled not to worry about saving power.

He gathered up as much as he could carry, when he heard a strange, stirring sound nearby. He turned back, searching the empty woodland. The trees were dense and full of pine needles here, the ground before him thick with brush and deadwood. He searched the shadows but saw nothing, but his gut told him something was coming. His heart raced. He looked through the trees to the distant slopes beyond. The stirring sound grew louder, like pouring sand.

A patch of shrubbery shifted unnaturally, then out from beneath it, a line of dirt stirred, and it was coming closer. He saw a very faint shimmer of light break through from below, barely visible if not for the shadowy ground.

“Oh shit!” Hump shouted, tossing the bundle of wood at it and backing up.

“Are you messing or serious?” Bud called.

“Serious!” Hump yelled. “Very serious. I think it’s an essence burrow snake.” 

He heard everyone get to their feet behind him, leaves crunching, boots thumping, as they rushed over to support. Bud’s sword was out, Dylan’s staff ready. Celaine leaped up to a thick branch with Spring Step and stared down.

“I see more of them,” Celaine said. “Four at least.”

“They must have been drawn by the essence,” Dylan said.

“Well nice job, Hump.”

“Oh sod off,” he snapped back.

More lines came into view, and Hump stepped back until he was in line with Bud and Dylan. The snakes were getting brighter, the dirt shifting faster. He heard a hissing like steam as essence started to pour from beneath the dirt.

“Dammit,” Hump said. “Sometimes I hate being an adventurer.”

“These should be easy compared to other things we’ve dealt with,” Dylan said. “Can you force them out of the ground?”

Hump was already on it, unbuckling his spellbook and holding it out in his left hand. It whirled open, finding Transform Earth, the pages bright with bronze essence as they brimmed with power. He channelled it into the formation.

This was the chance he needed to try and force a new spell out. Something specific. He envisioned explosions of earth where the snakes stirred, then with an effort of will, let his essence loose. Essence struck out in tendrils of lightning, striking the ground before the closest snake.

The dirt burst apart, dust and dirt flying in the air, revealing the thigh-thick snake within. It hissed, though from the size of its scales, Hump guessed it wasn’t pain. It slithered closer, above ground now, pure blue—almost white—essence radiating from it. It had to be three paces long.

Bud stepped into it, and it shot from the ground in a flash of power, propelled by essence. The knight swung at it, frostfire erupting along his blade, roaring through the air. It sliced the head off cleanly. Its decapitated head hit the ground, its mouth still snapping at the air. The rest of its body twisted and coiled in frantic death struggles.

Hump was already moving onto the next. Another explosion. Then another. Celaine pinned one to the ground with a silver arrow through the skull, its body lashing out with both force and essence so much that its tail whipped into the air like a flag caught in the wind. Dylan brought his staff down on the last, smashing it down to the earth. He used Growth, green essence coating the end of the shaft, a spearpoint forming that he stabbed down into the creature.

Five snaked dead, and then it was over.

Hump withdrew his essence, staff and spellbook still ready as he searched for more. “Anything?” he called up to Celaine.

She climbed higher up the tree. They waited, ten seconds, twenty. After thirty she said, “Nothing. I think we got them all.”

Hump smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“For what?” Bud asked.

“I just earnt us five heartstones,” Hump said.

Dylan walked up to the closest snake. “More than just that. These snakes have essence filling their blood. It’s a shame we’re heading away from Sheercliff. We could probably earn a bit from this.”

“You don’t think the next village will buy them?” Bud asked.

“They’ll buy them,” Hump said. “Not for much though.” He went over to the decapitated head, the final wisps of essence fading from it. “I might be able to make something from their venom. Might be useful for Celaine.”

“Let’s take them back to the camp,” Dylan said. He reached down for his, when the head snapped at him. He jerked his hand back with a yelp. “On second thought, let’s give them some time to stop moving.”

Hump checked his spellbook and frowned. Still nothing. He hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to figure out new spells.

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