« To decide is to commit oneself. It is to travel on a path of no return where the first step marks the end of a chapter, and the beginning of a new story. »

Time went by, and the blue sky darkened over the passing hours, shifting from the bright cyan to an eroded orange mixed with oiled pink clouds slowly gathering together. A large cumulonimbus shadowed the northern districts of Lagida, and will soon also cover the eastern gate where the visitors were still being inspected.

It took the whole day, but what looked like a seemingly-endless afflux of merchants and tourists at first would soon become a petered out waiting line with no soul to pester anyone anymore. Yet, the number of newcomers wasn’t the only thing that visibly diminished; Syrias and Thorne’s were completely dried up from the strain of repeatedly casting their analysing spell on every magic items they were asked to check.

Usually, nobody would be foolish enough to bring an obviously dangerous artefact inside a settlement through the main gate. The people dealing with such cursed tools preferred to use darker paths in order to avoid drawing too much attention on them. Again, thanks to runes and traps installed in the underground passages, it remained difficult enough for anyone to go there unnoticed. Besides, there were rumours about mymus starting to roam the sewers, further discouraging illegal contraband over there.

Syrias quenched his thirst with a bottle of water, before gifting it to his colleague after being desperately begged to offer some refreshment to him. Even though the days didn’t grow warmer, the scholar couldn’t help but feel hot after volunteering the whole afternoon and spending most of his mana pool on deciphering the magic aptitude of thousands of strange objects. Again, the majority of those artefacts were harmless, however, it remained essential to record every one of them. After all, even the most non-suspicious item could hurt others, like a chair in the face.

“So? How many did you find?” Thorne managed to ask despite his exhausted body.

“Let me see…” blurted Syrias before checking his personal notes on today’s report about the influx of visitors bringing in magical items, a number of vertical lines were drew next to the words ‘Okay’, ‘Caution’ and ‘Dangerous’. After a quick addition, he shared his score with his friend.

“A hundred-and-something green, twelve orange and zero red. Wait, didn’t you have to deal with two reds today?”

“Yeah, that was a pain… Who would have thought people would be stupid enough to bring a piece of armour that would inflict damage to the body and soul to the harmers?”

One of the merchants possessed an incomplete set of plate armour; the right gauntlet and the helmet were missing, the plastron was partially eaten by corrosion and the leggings were also quite rusty. But, even though the equipment appeared to be in such a sorry state, the glistening metal and the whispering runes easily betrayed the presence of magical properties imbued to the armour. A quick analysis from Thorne revealed the enchantment were programmed to injure anyone who unintentionally grazed the metal, and was hastily taken from the merchant in exchange of a modest sum of money and the permission to enter Lagida. Of course, the man could have refused to hand the armour, however, he would have lost the opportunity to participate in the festival. He simply chose to make easier sales inside the city rather than counting on some dubious magical gear.

“And what about the second thing?”

“Well, it was one of those things which spit colourful fire, you know? Fireworks. But the safe-lock was broken and now it’s a flamethrower.”

“Sounds dumb.”

“Yeah, it is.”

A magic item would usually be considered harmless quite easily, as long as the artisan remembered to put in some sort of security to prevent the formula from resulting in a rampage. In the case of fireworks for example, even though the tube would spit hot sparks, a simple way to prevent this was to add the algebra to render the spouted fire harmless. How? Reducing the amount of sparks was an option, yet some succeeded in manufacturing completely cold fire which would merely tickle you on contact. The only difference was that the first was cheaper and easier to make, while the second set his price a lot higher on the market, and even though it provided a more beautiful spectacle, people simply preferred to spend less money.

When the broken safe-lock was discovered, the item was immediately seized and neutralized. His previous holder was severely scolded for holding such an unsafe item, but eventually they let it go after having him pay a fee and a rapid reminder on how those things worked. Normally, a safe-lock couldn’t be that easily tinkered. You either let it do its job, or try to remove it and it’ll end up in breaking the entire formula. A lot of thought are generally put when confectioning magical items for public usage, and safety was always pushed as the first priority, most of the times.

The safe-lock was engraved as such as removing it would result in destroying the enchantment attached to the item, that way nobody would end up with a defect and cause an accident in the middle of a town. It also means that if the safe-lock was removed and yet the item could still function, then someone had the knowledge to toy with it, altering the formula and removing anything security-related without hindering the artefact’s use. Basically, someone managed to turn this happy little object into a weapon. Thorne sighed at the thought.

“Anyway, thanks to those two it’s my win. You owe me one again.”

“Damn…”

The two of them scanned roughly the same number of items, however, as Thorne was the one who scored the most by having to deal with more dangerous artefacts, their little competition ended with him as the victor.

“So what? You want another skewer?”

“Nah, I don’t think the stand’s still here now… How about you invite me for dinner?”

“Now what, you want to intrude in my romantic life with my wife?”

“It’s not that. I’ve just been thinking it’s been a while I haven’t eaten properly, so I thought I’d barge in and feed myself with some yume’s cooking. Besides, she cooks really well, you should share more with your friend here.”

“Why not, I think we still have some bread left for you…”

“Please treat me better than that.”

After agreeing on the reward, the two of them began to retreat from the place with their belongings. Once the sun was about to graze the horizon, the city of Lagida appeared to become a lot less lively. The streets weren’t empty either, however, the huge crowd they noticed a few hours earlier was nowhere to be found now. Instead, many windows shone in a dim light and chatters echoed behind the doors of inns and pubs where the citizens seemingly gathered after a day-worth of hard work.

While they were on their way to Syrias’s residence, the sky kept darkening until the street lamp had to be activated in order to provide some light, an automatism made possible by the use of magic. Once in front of the door, he looked for his keys inside the usual pocket and tried to unlock it. However, it seemed it already was, which surprised him. Ever since Narufi was pregnant, he adopted the habit of always locking the door before leaving. Of course, his wife had a spare to allow her to go outside and buy the necessities, but otherwise he would prefer the door to remain locked while she is inside to avoid unnecessary… Accidents.

The husband nervously opened the door, then called for his wife to announce his arrival.

“Narufi, I’m here! I’m bringing a friend with me.”

“Ah, Syrias! I’m in the living room, come here.”

Being invited by his wife, Syrias quickly stowed his mantle and made his way to the aforementioned destination. There, he indeed spotted his wife sitting on her sofa, but also the presence of two other people here. He could only recognize one face from the two.

“Oh. Good evening, Chaalith.”

“Good evening, Syrias.” politely answered the white-dressed lady.

Syrias was already acquainted with Narufi’s friend, but he himself didn’t know much about her beside the fact that she also lives in Lagida. But for now, his attention was solely focused on the last guest who represented his main concern. Over there, he saw the figure of a male yume clad in leather armour, an appearance that would unsettle anyone who was used to the tranquillity of an urban life.

Not knowing what to think of this all, Syrias diverted his eyes to Narufi, indirectly asking her for some clarification. But it was the stranger himself who took the initiative to introduce himself, standing up from his couch and extending his hand to Syrias which he reflexively accepted to shake.

“Hello. Sorry to appear like that out of nowhere… My name’s Nilie, I am Narufi’s brother.”

Well sure, now that he mentioned his bond with Narufi, Syrias could maybe spot a few similarities between the two, however, all of this was still quite… Unexpected. But seeing his gleeful wife, he couldn’t bring himself to push him away, nor could he accept him that easily either.

“Oh, you already got company, I see…”

It was at this time that Thorne made his appearance, the usually rude friend now acting all courteously in front of Narufi and Chaalith. And when he faced the new yume, he politely introduced himself as a student from the Academy. What a faker, Syrias thought when observing his friend’s sudden change.

Seeing how the room was now filled with more people, Narufi told everyone she was about to bring some more tea and a few snacks, but Syrias interjected, telling her to not overdo herself when she was still pregnant. He would do it in her stead, he didn’t mind acting overprotective when it was about Narufi’s well-being after all.

When he returned with the trail filled with a cup for each person and a bowl full of appetizers, he could finally join in their conversation.

“-And that’s how he met his mother.”

Thorne probably couldn’t keep up with his courteous façade, as Syrias caught him telling this bad joke to the other three where only Narufi slightly sneered at the conclusion, Nilie probably was too unfamiliar with the man to feel at ease and simply smiled, while Chaalith was… Also smiling, perhaps?

“Anyway.” pursued Thorne once Syrias sat at the table after distributing the cups, “Now that the expert-in-the-field’s here, can you share your story, Nilie?”

“Yes, sure…”

Syrias had his doubts at first, quietly listening to Nilie’s precedent whereabouts with one ear, but once the yume started to mention the spirit’s apparition, he instantly switched gears.

“Look at how serious he is.”

Ignoring the smirk Thorne sent him, Syrias compared his knowledge to the events Nilie witnessed through his journey. The tamed mymu’s infestation, the woman throwing the spirit in the Limbo, the caravan disappearing in a flash, and their stop at the church. They were all quite hard to connect, if they even had any connection between them, however, Nilie insisted that this was because the spirit knew all about him and showed him the path for redemption. Quite far-fetched, but that was just how spirits behaved, according to studies.

Unfortunately, Syrias couldn’t recall if those events had any symbolism or definition. Maybe it was just like Nilie presented them: a set of remade events from his past, to show him what he did wrong.

“This may be what we call the ‘Spirit’s journey’. There are several records in history where some people are ‘guided’ by a spirit. They are shown extraordinary feats, and defended from any harm for the duration of the journey.”

“And does it usually end with the guided man returning home?” asked Thorne out of curiosity.

“Well, as I said, there are many cases… But they all conclude in happy ending in general, so I guess it is what it is.”

“The spirit also lent me this.”

While the two scholars were still rambling on the subject, Nilie picked the amulet he has been gifted at the end of the journey and handed it to Syrias. He delicately took the item before inspecting it, casting out of habit the spell to analyse magic items. The result astonished him.

“I detect no magic, it will be hard to use it as proof for meeting a spirit…”

“But the spirit told me he would protect me through the amulet?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt you. I just find it strange that a present from a spirit would be magicless, that’s all.”

Nowadays, sorcerers tend to inscribe formula on different objects to imbue them with precise and concise magic. This was what you would call an algorithm, a set of commands to tell the magic what to do without running the risk of the produced phenomena from derailing. Syrias was at first overjoyed at the idea of studying an artefact made by a spirit, however, his enthusiasm was shut down by the very first obstacle: there was no algebra inscribed on the amulet. If said crudely, the thing was but a piece of wood attached to a string.

Maybe the amulet was enchanted in another way? That would explain why the analysing spell didn’t detect anything, however, that would also require a few days of studying, maybe even weeks, months or years until Syrias would begin to understand the underworks lying before him, if there were any.

“By the way, did the spirit mention his name?”

Noticing how Syrias was already projecting himself elsewhere, Narufi was the one who asked the question, half-knowledgeable about the subject thanks to her patrimony and her husband’s daily ramble. Apologizing in his head, the scholar re-switched his attention on Nilie.

If the studying of spirit was that fascinating for Syrias, it was mostly because they conducted themselves as individuals, which basically means they were part of a distinct race in its own right. They were living beings, they had ideas and humour, and they had personalities and names. Then why nobody believed in their existence at all? Simply because spirits don’t exist, that was the general consensus. A mere fairy tale from some random tribes, which was all that amounted to humans. As for yumes, even though spirits were a part of their culture, many stopped to worship them, or even think of them as old excuses to scold others.

They existed, Syrias was sure of that. They existed, and keep existing to this day. This amulet and Nilie’s testimony were the proof.

Just like gods, spirits were arranged in a sort of pantheon, categorized in different sections and depicting different definitions. Each spirit basically represented different aspects: fortitude, wisdom and loyalty as virtues, but also depravity, egoism or short-sightedness for vices. Those were the prime examples, of course there were many more attached to each spirit, which was why Narufi wanted to know which spirit protected her brother. To learn –and maybe laugh about it- which traits hovered over him through the journey.

“He only said it once, so I’m not sure… It was something like Lia… Alia…”

“Haliaetus, the Protector.”

To everyone’s surprise, the answer was given by the most unexpected guest. The lady in white sipped her tea, before continuing where she stopped.

“He is the most powerful spirit, symbolizing both the virtues of bravery and tolerance, and only the vice of indigence. In other words, he represents a lifestyle of self-sacrificing and an absence of profundity.”

They were all speechlessly listening to Chaalith, but Narufi and Syrias were shocked to learn of her knowing so much about this subject.

“Ah… Yes, that’s right. He’s also described as a good omen.” added Syrias, trying to show off his knowledge in front of the others.

“That is only half the truth.” corrected Chaalith, “Do you know why he is called the ‘Protector’?”

“Because he… Protects?” Thorne tried, but failed.

Chaalith sighed, then lectured all four of them.

“Not only your brother or a town, but the whole world. He is instinctively drawn to danger, all in order to prevent any cataclysms from happening. And even when the world was about to shatter, he protected everything from being destroyed.”

“Then… This is… Good, I guess?” Thorne tried again, but it didn’t seem to convince Chaalith at all.

“Didn’t you listen to what I just said? He is drawn to danger. Everywhere he goes, it’s because there is an incident that needs his intervention in order to be resolved.

He is destined to face catastrophes and disasters. It’s not a matter of will or a scheme, it is the fate brought upon him. Which means…” she faced Narufi, advising her in all seriousness due to the severity of the situation “Lagida isn’t safe anymore. You should evacuate before it’s too late. You should all leave this city, as soon as possible.”

The room was filled with uneasiness. Any kind of doomsdays was met with the Protector, and everyone was safe. But everywhere the Protector went, doomsdays knocked on the door. It was a reciprocal situation which could sound hard to believe, however, when faced with Chaalith’s stern expression, everybody found it harder to argue back. Everybody, except Narufi who answered with worry in her tone.

“Don’t… Don’t be so over-dramatic, Chaalith. The spirit will protect us. Right, Syrias?”

“Right… Besides, who knows if Lagida really will… Well, if a disaster will strike the city. It’s not like the city will blow up over-night.”

“And if this Protector is wandering around, then I hope he’ll do his job right.”

“I think so too.”

Facing everyone’s decision on the matter, Chaalith turned again to Narufi, begging her to reconsider.

“Narufi, please. It’s never safe when he is around…”

“It’ll be fine.”

Narufi didn’t yield.

“I have faith in the spirits.”

She even fearlessly smiled, showing how much she believed in the Protector.

They stared at each other for a while, until Chaalith gave up.

“I see…”

She didn’t speak much for the rest of the evening, silently participating to the dinner with everyone. Tonight, they were eating Narufi’s cooking while talking about their plans for Nilie and their studies inside the Academy.