“What do you think it was?” Liddie asked curiously as she stared at a pile of bone dust and cracked gemstones. The plinth it lay upon proved to be of little help, as it was oddly unlabeled. 

“I think it might’ve been a phylactery, maybe?” Autumn said, squinting at the bone dust. “You know, a soul receptacle a necromancer might use to become a lich?”

“I know what a phylactery is.” Liddie huffed. “Are you saying that the Angelus punched him so hard that his soul shattered or something before it even had a chance to reform?”

“Something like that.”

Liddie hummed. “What I don’t understand is why here? Isn’t the point of these things to allow the lich to reform far away from whatever killed them to plot a dastardly revenge? This is just a floor above where he died.”

“I doubt the necromancer thought they’d die in their own throne room surrounded by a literal ocean of corpses at their beck ‘n’ call.” Edwyn said dryly. “Most like, they thought if they bit it, they’d be in some far off stead ‘n’ they could come ‘ere to rearm themselves.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Liddie nodded. “What’s left to look over? I don’t see any more plinths.”

“There’s a rack of scrolls in the back.” Autumn pointed out. 

True to her words, a lattice of hexagon-shaped recesses lined the back wall and while most of them were empty, a quartet still held a scroll within themselves. These ancient pieces of parchment were anything but ordinary, judging by the golden rods they wound tightly around or the intricately carved caps that held them in place.

Keen to find out what they did, Autumn swiftly approached the cubbyholes and glanced over the scrolls. Disappointingly, neither the casings nor the holes displayed a label of any kind. While she’d never seen a real spell scroll before, she assumed that unrolling it fully might trigger it to unleash the magic stored inside, or at the very least, diminish its power. So after Edwyn gave it a quick once over, Autumn drew one free and unrolled it ever so slightly to peek inside.

Counterspell the scroll read in big stylistic flourishes. 

Autumn felt a slight sting of disappointment as she read the scroll, even though she knew it was a powerful spell. Many of her father’s DnD villains had run afoul of its ilk, turning their sweet victories into bitter defeats. Still, she’d hoped for something a dose flashier.

However, the next spell, Dragon’s Breath, reignited her excitement.

Magic rolled out from the scroll in a roar as it escaped from the slight sliver of unrolled parchment. Hurriedly, Autumn closed it again lest the breath escape and kill them all. As for what element of breath lay secured within, Autumn could only guess, but she hoped it was fire.

Who didn’t want to breathe Dragonfire?

Placing the heavy scroll to the side, she reached for the next. Planar Binding. 

While Autumn was unsure how that’d materialize itself, the wording seemed clear enough to her. It was a spell to turn flight into fight, to keep something or someone right where the caster wanted them.

‘Handy’ she thought. 

The banshee laughed. “Chains to bind and breaketh, then down cometh the blades.”

Autumn smirked to herself, but her good mood swiftly vanished as she read the next spell’s name. Banishment. A spell to cast a wayward wanderer back to whence they’d come, willingly or not. Her hands tightened white around the golden dowels.

She could go home right now. 

All she had to do was open the scroll fully and allow the magic to whisk her away.

That and to leave her friends behind in a dark underground to die. To leave a pact unfulfilled and a hag in possession of the greatest book on magic and witchcraft there ever was. The tantalizing magic swirled in the air, beckoning the witch to give in and just go home. 

But that was never an option.

Agonizingly slow, Autumn rolled the parchment back up and placed it back beside the others. A condemned sigh escaped her as she turned to the others. 

“That’s all I think.”

Liddie rubbed her hands together. “A good haul, great even. But how are we getting this all out of here? Between the five of us, we might manage it, but then there’s all the other stuff down below, not to mention our own gear.”

“Don’t forget the bodies.” Edwyn said.

“Hmm, them too. I’d hate to leave anything behind and I don’t know about you, but I never want to return here. So whatever is left behind gets lost, or another team can pick it up later.”

“About that.” Autumn drew their attention. “I found a bag of holding in the study, but I’ve not had the chance to examine it or anything yet, so there is no guarantee that it’s all that large inside.”

“That’s awesome!” Liddie cheered. “You got some luck! Share some with me, why dontcha!”

Autumn grimaced. “Not all luck is good, Liddie.”

“Whatever,” she waved Autumn off, “just look on the bright side. On your first silver-rank raid, you’ll make more gold than you’ll know what to do with. Now, leave me and Edwyn here to check all this for curses and the like, and you figure out that bag of holding.” 

Saying so, she nudged Autumn towards the exit.

Once she’d returned to the study, Autumn sheepishly collected up the scattered papers before sinking herself back down into the plush chair to read over them in search of anything to do with the belt of holding. 

Thankfully, her vaunted luck held firm and before long, she was reading over the necromancer’s identification of the belt. Evidently, he’d been in the middle of investigating it when the re-awoken angel had attacked.

The Belt of the Nomad had unexpectedly spacious pouches of holding that could easily stretch to fit a decent size of items. She wouldn’t be hauling around a graveyard’s worth of bodies anytime soon, but she could easily fit all the treasures they’d accumulated. An obfuscation enchantment made it all the more enticing to the young witch, turning it effectively into a smuggler’s belt. She didn’t doubt there’d be ways around it, but it was better than nothing, plus her current belt was looking kinda shabby.

Satisfied that there wasn’t anything more to learn about it, Autumn swiftly returned to the other and got it checked over for curses. Once given the all-clear, she happily exchanged it for her own and quietly admired it in the dusty mirror.

She was looking more and more like a proper adventurer by the day.

Now she just needed to fix the gaping holes in the rest of her gear. 

“Oi! Stop flirting with your reflection and come help us bring Nelva and your girlfriend up!” Liddie called out to Autumn. 

Flustered, an angry witch chased after the laughing pirate as they headed down the tight stairwell to retrieve their sleeping compatriot. Upon reaching the throne room, they found Nelva awake, if not able. Slowly and carefully, they helped her climb the narrow stairwell back to the upper floors and deposited her into the grand bed, where she quickly succumbed back into the allure of sleep.

By now, they were all exhausted, both from the multiple fights they’d been in and the injuries they’d sustained. However, Autumn found herself too excited to nap. Instead, she rushed back over to the study and slammed her hands down upon the wand-making station with a manic grin plastered across her face.

Behind her, Eme wisely curled up on the chair to watch from a distance. 

Autumn was sick of not having a wand, and now that she had the means to make one, nothing was going to stop her. And while she was at it, she intended to make the best one she could.

With a clatter, Autumn placed down all her materials atop the workbench; the dragon bone wand, the black-iron rod, the dark angel’s feathers, and the flickering halo of dread.

Logically, there were four combinations of wands available to her, and if all went well, she could make a pair of wands. However, upon glancing over the gemstones and other ingredients that the wand-making guide book required for the stabilization ritual, she saw that there were only enough supplies for one attempt.

So she’d have to choose.

First there was the casing, the shell of the wand. For that, she had the options of either dragon bone or black-iron. 

Quickly reading through the guidebook, Autumn learned many things about wands and their materials. While she already knew from folklore and pop-culture that different wand woods gave unique properties that’d suit their owners, she hadn’t a clue what dragon bone or black-iron would favor, or whether they’d suit her.

Dragon bone – For the Tenacious. This material favors power and an undying strength of will. Combative magics come easily to wands of this type, yet it disfavors cowardice or submission in its wielder.

And then there was.

Black-iron – For the Cruel. This material is of a volatile, dominating nature. Wands of this material favor Necromantic and curse related spells, yet as it harbors a hatred for the living, it holds no loyalty to a living wielder. 

There was only one actual choice. 

Autumn pushed the black-iron rod to the side, leaving the dragon bone wand sitting proudly in the center of the formation. While she didn’t feel that the description fit her all that well, it was certainly a better fit than a wand type labeled ‘the Cruel’ and she hardly needed any more volatility in her life, just the opposite.

Also, it was no surprise now why the two materials didn’t like to work together. One disdained submission, while the other demanded it. 

Next came the wand core.

Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t much in the book about an angel’s halo or their feathers. Yet that fact didn’t deter Autumn. For the next several minutes, she paged through the short notebook for anything either equivalent or marginally adjacent. Thankfully she found enough to cobble together some notes in her own hand. 

Fallen Angel’s Halo – Wands made with this core are likely to be immensely powerful and willful, favoring wielders who exemplify honor, courage, and self-sacrifice. While the necromantic ritual to bind the angel’s power to undeath failed somewhat, it still influenced the halo towards dread-based magics alongside instilling a hatred for undeath within it. 

Fallen Angel’s Feather – Wands made with this core will probably favor quiet and quick casting. Plucked from the wings of a fallen angel dedicated to martial prowess, the feathers are likely to favor both loyalty and battle-orientated magics and spells.

Autumn twirled the quill between her fingers as she waited for the ink to dry. It was all mostly guesswork, but she felt marginally confident in her deductions. Not that it mattered much if she was wrong, as she was still going to make a wand out of one of them in the end.

For the sake of completion and fun, Autumn scribbled out all four combinations and what she thought the wands would embody. 

9 1⁄2 inches long, sturdy, made of Dragon bone, possessing an angel halo core – A wand that favors power and loyalty, disdaining undeath while amplifying fear magics.

9 ½ inches long, sturdy, made of Dragon bone, possessing an angel feather core – A wand that favors powerful, quick, and stealthy casting. 

11 inches long, inflexible, made of black-iron, possessing an angel halo core – A powerful, disloyal wand that will probably kill any living wielder, preferring undead users.  

11 inches long, inflexible, made of black-iron, possessing an angel feather core – A wand that favors cruelty, undeath, and sabotage. 

Autumn nodded as she put down her quill and absentmindedly rubbed her fingers, not noticing the ink she smeared onto them. She was pleased with her thoughts about the wands and now all she had to do was narrow down her options and….

…yeah, no. There was a clear winner here.

After tidying up the spares, Autumn placed the dragon bone wand and the dark halo onto the central rune. In the other runes that circled the set, she placed the magical crystals, gemstones, and preserved organs of magical beasts according to the guide’s instructions. 

The clacking sounds roused the catgirl from her lazy nap, and she stretched out with a yawn as she looked over at the witch performing her arcane ritual. While Eme trusted that Autumn knew what she was doing, she also quietly prepared to dive beneath the desk at the first signs of an explosion.

With everything securely in place, Autumn chanted the first words of the necromancer’s wand-making ritual as she poured her magic into the thirsting runes. 

Fear like oil poured free from her hands as she gripped the workbench in pain. 

Across the room, Eme peeked over the desk worriedly, but didn’t interfere. 

Autumn bit her lip as the wand bucked and writhed. Even in death, the bones still contained a dragon’s arrogance and refused to capitulate to her will. It lashed out with a suffocating aura, cracking the gemstones that fueled the ritual, all because a witch would not bow. So she took all her pain, all her rage and fear and just pushed it deeper into the burning runes upon the shaking table like a tidal wave.

She cared not for the tantrum of a long dead beast.

And with her own arrogance pulsing through the connection, the dragon bone wand finally halted its resistance as a measure of respect and understanding birthed within it. Suddenly, the connection solidified and the gems around the table crumbled into dust.

Autumn sucked in a breath as hot sweat dripped down her brow, but her fight was not over. 

The black-flame nimbus shook and shuddered as it resisted the pull of the wandmaker’s table, threatening to crack it and the foundations in twain. Both Autumn and the dragon wand fought tirelessly to drag it inch by inch into the casing and solidify itself into the core of the wand. Neither side would bend or break, and the dark halo proved as tiresome and dangerous as its bearer had been. Pale candlelight flickered as if caught in a great unseen storm until they all blew out, stranding Autumn in a darkened hold.

But the witch just grinned a grim grin, for she needed no sight to make it hers.

She’d killed an angel once, and she’d do it again if she had to.

With a great thunderous boom, the wandmaker workbench snapped clean in half, sending both Autumn and the wand clattering to the ground. With trembling pale fingers, the witch carefully picked up the pure white and black wand. Instantly, she recognized the sensation of a true wand—a surge of righteousness and power flowing through her.

Slowly, she turned her wand over in her hands. She felt it preen as she admired it.

Like a dragon’s horn, it spiraled and curled away from her hand to a singular ferocious point. Opening up her fingers, Autumn beheld inside her hand a grip of a dragon roaring down to the base of the wand while a pair of black angelic wings trailed behind it to wrap entirely around the handle. And at the very base of the wand lay a pure black gem clutched in the horned dragon’s fanged jaw.

“The Angel-Dragon wand.” Autumn whispered to herself in awe as she named it. 

“That’s a neat name.” Eme said, looking over Autumn’s shoulder at the wand in her hand.

Autumn screamed in fright.

A beam of violet violence slammed into the bone ceiling above, sending a rain of powderized bone falling back down upon the pair of girls. Coughing and spluttering, Autumn quickly turned to the sheepish catgirl as she tried to calm her pounding heart. 

“How long have you been here?!” Autumn finally coughed out.

Eme rubbed the back of her head as she awkwardly grinned. “The whole time. I kinda thought you knew! It was boring at first so I took a nap, but then it got kinda awesome~ I’ve never seen something like that!”

Seeing the sincere excitement on Eme’s face, Autumn couldn’t help but grin too. “Yeah? It was kinda cool, wasn’t it?”

“And then that explosion at the end! Good thing you were pointing it up! Phew~,” Eme matched Autumn’s grin.

A wild look crossed Autumn’s face as she tucked her new wand into her vambrace. Picking herself up off the floor, she held out her right hand to the catgirl on the floor. “Hey, do you want to help me blow a new crater into the mire?”

Eme started before she looked up at the fearless look cresting Autumn’s face. She smiled too. 

“Yeah, sounds fun!”

Dragon bone met dragon bone with a resounding clack as Autumn hauled Eme to her feet.