The stroll towards the guild remained uneventful, yet Sam couldn't shake off the curiosity about Dale's heated argument with the blacksmith. However, the bandit had once again melted into the shadows of the dark alleys, leaving her questions unanswered. Upon reaching the guild building, however, a group of adventurers engaged in a heated dispute, obstructing the entrance.
There were four of them: a monk with a clean-shaven head adorned with religious robes, arms covered in intricate sigils—evidently a fighter. He was embroiled in an argument with a rabbit demihuman, a female Crusader clad in full-body armor, a sword at her hip, and a kite shield on her back. The other two observers included a human ranger donned in leather armor, her features mostly concealed by a bandana and hat, and a male beastkin berserker—a wolf man with a massive sword strapped to his exposed upper body, adorned in fur and leather straps for his equipment.
“Apologies if you had to find it out this way, Ms. Sinclair,” the monk expressed remorsefully.
“Oh, don’t you ‘Ms. Sinclair’ me! You are our friend! We are supposed to be helping you! Why are you running away from us?! If I hadn't gotten the facts out of that big idiot, I wouldn't have known!"
“Hey!” interjected the wolf man in the background. The female ranger extended her hand, restraining him, signaling that it was not the right time to intervene.
“I do not wish to involve you in matters of my temple. Please, do not make this more difficult than it should be,” the monk insisted, though it did little to defuse the situation. The rabbit lady was visibly fuming in response. Dale, reappearing from somewhere, was supposed to wait for them, but the group's delay prompted the bandit to check up on them.
Andrew cleared his throat to attract the attention of the other party. “Sister. May His light guide your path,” the paladin uttered, pulling out a trinket from beneath his collar, suspended on a chain around his neck.
The Crusader turned towards them, initially exuding hostility at the disturbance. Yet, upon seeing Andrew, she lightly bowed before producing a different trinket. “And may Her love protect yours, Brother.”
Ignorant of the intricacies, Sam turned to Dale, who promptly explained, “Even gods have friends, family, etc. Religious orders have treaties, alliances between them,” he said matter-of-factly.
Andrew bowed in response before speaking, “Sister, though it might be a bit indelicate, but may we pass? I couldn't help but overhear that you are having a discussion with your companion. We decided not to intrude just yet, but it seems you two have reached an impasse.”
Exhaling loudly as she tried to calm herself down, she turned toward the monk and then back to the paladin. “Say, Brother. Are you perhaps here to take a quest?”
“We are,” Andrew replied, wondering where this was going. The monk observed Andrew and his party, looking them up from head to toe, as if gauging them. Sam frowned at this, clearly not liking the idea of being stared down.
“Our traveling companion here has been tasked with delivering an item to a nearby temple. For weeks we have traveled together, but because of last night’s events, he has decided to abandon his friends and run back home! He couldn’t even find the time to finish his quest before tucking tail!”
“Miss Sinclair, that is not my intention, but I am needed back home. I cannot impose further, drag you all with me across the sea. I cannot keep it on my person if I were to go back home alone; it's far too dangerous. I must stay here till an appropriate courier claims it.”
“Then come with us! We’ll cross the forest in the west in a day or so! We’ll reach the temple by then! Maybe they’ll even let you stay there instead!”
“That’s the very reason I cannot go there. The monks there would never let me leave. I have to return home and find out what happened to my people.”
Andrew calmly watched the conversation unfold before him, rubbing his hand against his beard before suggesting, “We’ll take it. Whatever it was. The Western Temple, right?” Sam elbowed him lightly, as he accepted a quest without confirming with the group first. “Trust me,” he whispered to the doctor before turning back to the adventurers.
The monk took another look at each of them. “I see. An interesting party composition you have, but it’ll do. I wish you all great fortune,” he said, bowing before turning to his friends. “I must go now. Our meeting may have been brief, but it has been the best few weeks of my life. I thank you all.”
The Crusader could only stare at him in disbelief. The Ranger turned to Dale and said, “The item is quite ‘sought after.’ Tenzin placed a hefty sum for the quest reward.”
Living amongst the bandits, Dale knew a Thieves’ Cant whenever he hears one. He simply nodded and replied, “Well, temples don't allow worldly possessions anyway.”
The monk bowed once again before finally leaving, freeing the entrance to the adventurer’s guild. Taking the quest was a breeze but Sam wasn’t happy that she got dragged along without a say on the matter. Still, the proposed reward was quite large. Looking at the job listing as they exited the guild, it was a small box with a metal ring on top that worked as a handle.
“Mind telling me what this is all about?” asked Sam as the group made their way to the inn, got their gear, and prepared to leave.
“When monks reach the rank of Trapa, they are given a task to deliver a relic from temple to temple. It is a test of sorts. Relics are usually powerful magical items and could be sold for a whole lot of gold crowns. So either it's power or wealth, tempting a monk to break their vows and at the same time giving them a perspective of how the world around them is, as not everything is butterflies and rainbows.”
“The Lady even warned me about it. I think someone is going to try and take the relic,” added Dale.
“Then what do we do?” Andrew, not exactly fit for combat just yet, worried Sam.
“I could… smuggle it out. Security is tight at the gates. If your luggage is searched, it’ll be like pretty much telling everyone in the city that we have it.”
Of course, it was a risk to give Dale, the bandit, the precious relic. What if he runs with it? Without hesitation, Andrew stretched his hand toward him, which Melo reached for, standing on her toes before carrying it the rest of the way toward Dale.
“Thank you,” Dale said, smiling as he hooked the item on his belt, quickly vanishing toward the alleyways behind the tavern.
“Let’s go,” Sam finally called out as she lifted her duffle onto her shoulder, done preparing, the group headed out for the west gate.
Sergeant Norlund was on patrol near the western wall when he found a group of men standing around, looking below and beyond the perimeter. “What’s going on here?”
“Sir! Someone just jumped the wall.”
“What? Suicide?” Though not as high as the capital’s, the city walls are still a dozen meters tall. Looking down below to check if the poor soul is somewhere down there on the pavement but finding nothing, he frowned and began scanning around. At this height, someone who knows strengthening magic could easily survive such a fall, but why? There aren’t exactly that many people gifted enough for that either. Pulling out his binoculars, maybe he can catch a glimpse of whoever was insane enough to jump the wall before they clear the perimeter and hide in the nearby forest. A glint caught Norlund’s attention; training his sights toward it, zooming in as he watched a familiar-looking spear before it vanished into the forest.
“Damn it.” He remembers it, of course, a weapon from Dragon’s Forge in the hands of a wanted man. The Sergeant soon makes his way down and off the wall to track him down, as he highly doubts a known villain like that would jump off a wall without reason. Capturing him may be a means for him to recover what he lost, regain his honor.
It was already dark when the party reconvened. Dale mentioned that it felt like someone was following him, and he had to detour deeper into the forest to evade. However, now he feels as if more people are watching them. Andrew says something similar, but the alchemist was unconvinced. “You are just spooked. Dale is pranking you, and now you’re thinking of it too.”
“Perhaps,” Andrew finally said, sitting down. He turned to the bandit and said, “It took you a while to return, so I got worried…”
“That I ran away with it?” says Dale defensively as he placed down the relic near the camp’s center for everyone to see.
“No. That you got caught,” Sam quickly adds, “That one town guard was really upset when he checked our pack several times. Security was really tight.” Sam soon turns her attention to Melo as the small girl takes the relic, struggles, trying to open the box. It's about a 6-inch cube with a metal handle on top, metal bracings securing it shut. “Hey, are we even allowed to try and open that?” asks the doctor before turning to Dale and Andrew.
“Not really… Princess, stop that,” Andrew calls out, lightly scolding the child, which made the little girl pout at him. He extends his open hand toward her, and Melo obediently passes the item along. Tracing his fingers across its surface. “There is magic engraved on the metal,” trying to read what is inscribed, “to change color if the box is opened. Guess part of that temptation test.”
“I mean, we can look into it if you want.” Sam stands up and approaches, taking the box from Andrew’s hands. She pulls out her ‘wand’ and begins scanning the object repeatedly, making sure that her PDA’s sensors and cameras capture every sector of it.
Once done, she sets the relic down, and a projector beams out from her PDA. A hologram of the relic appears before them, taking Andrew and Dale by surprise. Melo was giddy, jumping around, trying to disrupt the projection.
“Incredible… I have never seen such magic like this.” “As do I.”
“Well, you haven’t seen it all just yet.” Using her hands, Sam manipulates the projection, adjusting its size, scan spectrum, particle detections, magical residues; all of these data are shown in a floating chart nearby. “Now, let’s see here…” The image soon began piercing through the box, an X-ray, showing a piece of wood glowing in intensity. “The hell is that? A plutonium rod?”
“A wand,” answers Melo, who has her eyes glued to the display before her.
“A Hallow Wand, to be exact,” adds the paladin. He was pretty sure Sam said something odd again, but he was too focused on their discovery to even bother commenting about it. “The monks are known for guarding these sacred trees known as the Hallow ones. It is said that one cannot touch the tree unless they are of pure spirit.”
“What’s the point of having a wand if you can’t hold it?” asks the bandit.
“Another test, I suppose. But I hear the monks don’t sell these wands, so they are well sought after. Owning something no one else has is what nobles do as a hobby after all.”
“Sounds like a waste of money.” Sam turns off the light show, and their surroundings get consumed in darkness again; only the flickering of their campfire creates shadows for now.
“That was such an impressive magic, Miss Samantha. How come you are a mere healer? With such skill, you could easily become a court mage,” says Dale as they sit around the campfire while Andrew prepares dinner.
Sam thought of correcting him; what she did was not magic, after all, but decided not to, as explaining it would be more of a hassle. “Thank you for the praise. But in truth, I do not have much magic. I simply know how to use it more efficiently.”
“What nonsense! I watched you fire dozens upon dozens of fireballs one after another! What do you mean you don’t have magic?” remembering that encounter they had with the beast.
Sam ponders how she would explain this, “Alchemists such as myself believe that the world is made out of a series of elements, building blocks that make the very foundation of everything. And this is true. Understanding how the world works makes the difference. Like how a master wielding a stick could defeat a newbie with a real sword.”
“I thought you were studying alchemy simply because you are a healer,” says the paladin.
“I was never a healer to begin with,” confesses Sam. Though she has a doctorate in numerous fields, she is technically not a medical professional. Most of her knowledge that comes from medicine is simply what she learned from the people in ATLANTIS, absorbing whatever knowledge she can get ahold of as a means to preserve knowledge from the last humans in the galaxy. One has to be kept busy; otherwise, they’ll go mad.
“What do you mean you are not a healer?! You are a well-known apothecary in Angel’s Rest! You saved my life!” Andrew was in shock, and Dale had to take over with the cooking, otherwise, the stew would get burned.
“My profession is not what’s important. What’s important is I know what I was doing. For example.” Turning to Andy, “Your shoulder, I have reconnected tissue, nerves, and blood vessels, knitting them back when I healed you. A knowledge that every healer should know. But do they know what it is made out of? Muscle is made out of meat… okay, what element makes up the meat?”
Seeing the confused look on their faces, Sam continues. “Blood. What is blood made out of?” Of course, they could not answer that. The doctor soon tries to make it a lot easier. “Air. the thing you breathe. What is it made out of?”
“...Air?” one of them responds, looking at each other in confusion.
Sam shook her head, as clearly explaining it would take far too long. “Look. Fire. Any spellcaster who has seen fire before, like the one before us, can use a simple fire spell. Simple. Right? But what is fire made out of? You see, magic is like wish fulfillment. Spirits would manipulate magic into an approximation of the result that you want. The problem would be the efficiency.”
She extends her wand and casts a fireball; the orb of plasma hovers before them, and soon it starts changing color. The two were kind of dumbstruck, staring at the spectacle while Sam had to stop Melo several times for trying to get herself lit on fire. “Spirits would no longer need to approximate if you knew what you wanted to begin with, making spells use less magic.”
“And you get that by studying Alchemy… this Science of yours?” Dale seems impressed, though Sam doubts he actually understood it, nodding in his direction as to reply.
Andrew could only imagine the drama that this discovery would bring. Mages, after all, believe themselves superior to Alchemists. Mages could give near-instantaneous results while an alchemist would take hours just to replicate the same thing, calling Alchemists losers who are trying to become relevant to the magic community. Shaking his head at the thought.
It took Norlund a while to track the bandit down again; luckily for him, once he found him, his party seemed to be too distracted to notice his presence. Hiding amongst the trees, he checks his gear one last time. His mechanical arm still aches at the connecting part as he failed to get it checked up. But such discomfort is to be ignored. Loading shells into his break-action firearm while he continues to watch the group.
While the party was having their meal, however, the trees began to sway, though there was no breeze, as if the forest around them began to move on its own. The group became aware and quickly reached for their weapons. Norlund himself became anxious as to what was going on, but he kept watch for now.
From the corner of the clearing, a man in a black cloak comes running out, blood trailing behind him as he clutches what’s left of his right arm. Groaning as he trips and falls onto the forest floor.
“Hey! Are you alright?” Sam calls out. But Dale moves in front of the group with his spear at hand, wary of the newcomer.
“It's a Zealot,” adds the paladin as he draws out his mace, recognizing the patterns of his robes. “You are far away from the north, my friend. What are you doing here?” In a normal circumstance, Andrew would’ve offered his help, but the newcomer appears to be a footman from the Northern Isles, worshiping their king as the one true god. Heresy.
The Zealot struggles to stand up on its own, heaving in pain, blood pooling around his mouth as more escapes from his wound. As he opens his mouth to respond, a thick vine suddenly whips out from the forest, wrapping itself around the man’s head, holding his jaw open before violently yanking him into the darkness. The sound of muffled screams followed soon after, with the noise of tearing flesh and breaking bones vibrating audibly through the quiet night.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?!” screams Sam as she pulls out her wand. Melo likewise moves and hides behind Andy, her staff at the ready. Something is truly wrong. Vines began slithering across the forest floor, coming from the direction where the zealot vanished, slowly approaching the group.
