Chapter 7: Weapons Training


    Pascal was up early, and his obnoxiously loud voice was obviously meant to get the entire house up. When our mother called for breakfast, I dressed slowly to annoy him. With all my life experiences, you would think I would be above such petty brotherly antagonism, but no.


    “Gareth has been waiting outside for an hour,” Freya whispered to me when I finally got to the table to eat. Well, apparently, Pascal was not the only one excited. I turned in my chair to look out the window, and yes, Gareth was sitting in his regular spot on the stone wall across from the house. Mother had probably asked him not to disturb us until after we had finished breakfast. Not because he was unwelcome but because he could eat like there was no tomorrow, and she didn’t make big spreads at breakfast.


    Pascal was grumpy. I was taking so long, and Freya was also showing some glumness since she had to go to instruction alone. Caleb, my father, took my slowness as hesitation and obviously didn’t want to push me. He had long been trying to get me interested in martial skills, and this was a crack in my armor. He finally spoke, “So, Storme, have you decided on a weapon?”


    Finishing the blackberry jam spread on simple bread, I replied to him, “No.” A simple response and the truth. Disappointment clouded his eyes, so I decided to follow up. “Maybe the saber or scimitar,” I said. Wait, wasn’t that what Gareth had been deciding between? He nodded with a smile shadowing his face and nodding.


    Soon, he offered his advice, which I knew was coming: “Callem taught me the basics of the long sword, spear, and short bow during my first year of Academy.” Oh no, I hoped this wasn’t going to become one of his academy stories. They were entertaining, but I had heard them all at least four times. I got up from the table, spurring Pascal to speedily do the same, heading out the door to the road. I emerged shortly after, and Gareth waved. His grin was plastered on his face, and he wore his dagger proudly on his new belt. I had forgotten to put mine on as it was not yet engrained into my routine.


    Father took the lead, with Pascal right next to him, talking excitedly. I fell in behind Gareth and whispered to him, “Thirteen.” His eyebrows shot up.


    “Holy angelic fervor Storme.” Doing the math in his head, “You could make over a gold every week!” His enthusiastic voice carried, but we should be far enough behind Pascal and my father that they didn’t hear. I shook my head no and handed him my coin pouch, wanting to see his reaction. He poured the contents out into his large hand in anticipation. Four steel coins, two coppers, and three gold coins. He immediately fumbled the coins, dropping the lot on the dusty road. He quickly dropped to his knees to pick them up like he had accidentally dropped the queen’s jewels.


    My father stopped and turned to look but was fifteen paces ahead of us. “I was just paying back Gareth for something yesterday, and he dropped my coin pouch,” I said straight-faced without mischief coating my voice. Gareth had thrown the coins and a good portion of the road dirt into my coin pouch, hurriedly hiding the massive amount of wealth.


    We regained our stride behind them, and Gareth finally whispered, “Thirteen gold? You are not playing with me?” I was silent, and he spoke again a few minutes later. “You can magic up a year’s wages in a day.” I was just quiet as I let Gareth ponder the implications. A year’s wages? I think my father made less than twelve gold in a year after his taxes. He did have two gold annual stipends for his equipment, so yes, I could make more in a day than my father did in a year.


    My mother made eight or so gold in a year, by my estimation. Sometimes, she would get a large project like cutting the sigil of a minor house on a handful of hardened leather chest pieces for their house guard. That might take her most of a month and earn her an entire gold or two for the effort if the work was intricate enough. Our family was in the lowest economic class in the Skyholme social hierarchy but high for the tiny village of Hen’s Hollow. Gareth interjected on my train of thought, whispering again, “So what is next?”


    Well, I had given it a lot of thought, and I needed some spells. I had my eye on a difficult tier-one spell called cleanliness. “I think I want to set up the mysterious benefactor from the capital as a cover story in the city. Before that, I would like to get a spell to practice to develop my spell craft.”


    I paused before asking, “What do you want, Gareth?” I left it open-ended for him. Gareth wasn’t simple, and he would think hard about it. We walked in silence, and finally, the small farm came into view with the tobacco field to the right and the potato field to the left. Captain Callem was in the tobacco field and waved to us.


    Suddenly, Gareth spoke. “Stormy, I want you to make me a steel blade of my choosing and get it enchanted.” Even using my nickname, I could tell he was serious and had given this profound thought. Gareth was a fighter at heart, but his friendship with me had pulled him from his nature. He had had his opportunities to get into a fight every once in a long while, and his dominance in those fights had scared the other children from provoking us as a pair.


    “Done,” was my response to his request. I would put all my effort into giving him the best sword I could manage to repay his friendship.


    Captain Callem approached our group. He was a square man who moved with a cat-like grace for his size. His thick hair and beard were snow white, and if it wasn’t for his advanced age, I might have felt like a mouse under a cat’s gaze.


    His most striking feature was his golden yellow eyes. From my father’s stories, I knew he had one ability, perfect sight. A tier two ability allowed him to see in most conditions with near-perfect clarity. According to my father, he had developed the ability to be exceptionally observant, and no doubt he was sizing us up. Pascal was practically hopping out of his shoes in anticipation of starting.


    My father exchanged a handshake and some private words with the Captain before turning to us. “Captain Callem is an arms master. If he were to charge you for his time, it would be at the rate of one gold per hour. He will spend the next three hours with you boys, so pay attention.” My dad had his sternest face on and his command voice going. He didn’t want us to embarrass him. I knew the Captain was giving his time for free. We all knew people traveled from other cities and even the capital island to learn from him. These people had passed through our small town occasionally while they were on their way to his farm.


    Captain Callem brought us to a well-trodden practice yard next to his farmhouse. First up, he went through sixteen limbering exercises because the range of motion and ease of movement were essential factors in combat. Just from these exercises, I knew I would be terribly sore tomorrow.


    After that, we were all led to the far side of the combat yard behind the small farmhouse. There was a small shed with one side open. Inside were racks and racks of weapons. I could see my brother and Gareth drooling, almost literally. I was trying to think of a quip when Callem said the next step was safety and care of weapons. When this was finally done, we had just one hour remaining. My father sat on a stone wall smoking a pipe with blue-white smoke coming out of it and watched us the entire time.


    “Ok, boys, it is time to try to find the weapon you wish to train with.” This released the hounds, and Gareth went right for one of the two sabers. Pascal took a longsword. It took me a minute before I selected a short sword. The next hour had us practicing footwork with our selected blades. We never fought each other, but we definitely digested a large amount of knowledge. I felt I could now hold the blade properly and move somewhat fluidly with the short sword in my hand.


    The lesson ran half an hour more than planned before my father said it was time to go. We thanked Captain Callem and started walking back. I turned around and said I had left my pouch by the fence and was going back to retrieve it. It had been intentional as I had given my following action some serious thought after watching Gareth’s joy today.


    I found Callem in the tobacco field and went to him, grabbing the pouch by the fence as I approached him. “Captain Callem, is it true you charge a gold per hour for instruction?” I asked patiently.


    “Yes,” he paused, appraising me anew. I had been by far the worst of the three of us, and my mind and focus had wandered more than a few times. “What do you seek of me?” he finally asked.


    “I wish to come three times a week with my friend Gareth for training. Hopefully, you will have time to train us on the 1st, 3rd, and 5th days after the mid-day meal. We have lessons in the morning so cannot come any earlier. But I ask that you do not reveal this to my father or brother.” I asked earnestly.


    The powerful persona of Callem stared at me with his white hair blowing in a strong breeze that had gusted. Before replying, he digested what I said, “Yes, that can be arranged. You will be here after the mid-day meal all those days, and I will train you for three hours,”


    I looked about to interject, but his severe look and eye contact gave me pause, “Then you two will help around the farm for three hours.” Okay, he probably thought I didn’t have enough coin to pay. This was better than I expected as I had planned to give him three gold a week for three one-hour lessons. “I don’t train students for less than three hours at a time. Any shorter, and the muscle memory doesn’t take hold,” he explained. “Also, if I have another student here during that time, don’t expect my full attention. In addition, I expect one silver coin per week to be paid for by each of you. The more you sacrifice for something, the more you will be thankful for it.” He finished.


    I just nodded and started looking around the farm. It was only an acre of tobacco, half an acre of potatoes, and a small raised bed of herbs by the farmhouse. His face lit into a bright smile, reading my mind. “Oh boy, there is plenty to do around here. A mage friend in the capital visits me every other month to fertilize the fields and grow my tobacco with aether. I also was thinking of building a new drying barn.” He motioned to the shed holding the weapons racks, indicating it was his current drying barn. I puzzled out that he must remove the weapons to hang the leaves. The shed had that sickly sweet smell of tobacco when we cleaned weapons today.


    “Agreed,” I said, reaching out with my right hand to shake and pulling a large silver coin from my pouch with my left hand. After shaking to confirm the deal, I placed the silver coin in his hand, which was much larger than I had thought, “Here is the first five week’s payment!” I turned and left the man in shock. He obviously hadn’t thought I had that much on me. The coin was shiny and new, so I would have to ensure we aged them in the future, at least most of them.


    Catching up to the group, I fell into stride with Gareth. My father and Pascal were talking a few paces ahead of us, and Pascal seemed happy, but he obviously had wanted to spar by the few words I caught. He had learned enough to gain a significant advantage over his friends. Now, our father had taught him some basics, but for the most part, everyone in his friend group was on equal footing in terms of swordplay knowledge.


    “Gareth, I got us lessons with Captain Callem. We will visit him thrice a week after lessons with your mother.” I considered withholding the farm hand part of the agreement to surprise him but decided not to. “We will get a three-hour lesson each of those days, but after, we have to help on the farm for three hours.” I looked over at my friend. He had a grin so big it split his face. He just couldn’t stop smiling, which caused me to return it with my own.


    After a few minutes, he regained his composure and said, “We should get there early each day to do the stretching. We don’t want to waste any of the three hours of instruction.” He was dead serious. He wanted this. We had done everything I wanted since we were seven, and Gareth followed my lead without question. It was time to balance the scales.


    When we got home, Gareth and I went to the barn while Pascal ran off to show off his new skills to his friends. Father went to have lunch with my mother at work. I was a little shocked when we entered the barn. Some dust still hung in the air.


    Freya was filthy and pushing a crate across the floor. “Storme! How did training go!” She burst into excited words. Standing and showing off the space she had apparently worked all afternoon on. I had moved a few things to make getting to the loft easier, but I had not organized. Freya had packed, stacked, dusted, and apparently thrown out some junk. Besides the dust in the air slowly flowing out the open door and windows, the place looked pretty good.


    “I had Brianne help for a bit, but she went home sneezing. But I did promise to put in a good word for her with Gareth,” she rushed through the words. Brianne was the cobbler’s daughter and had a crush on Gareth. She made this plainly known to anyone who listened. She was a year older than us and had plain prettiness to her.


    Gareth hadn’t taken an interest in Brianne, though. He had liked one girl, Casrine. Well, every boy had been infatuated with Casrine. To his credit, she was the prettiest girl in town, but when she finished her first year at the Academy, she attracted a benefactor to pay for her to attend a Merchant’s Academy in the capital. Personally, I doubted her benefactor was doing it purely out of benevolence.


    “Are you going to take me to the city tomorrow?” Freya asked while trying to clean her face. I had promised to take her if she helped out. But I couldn’t remember what I had asked her to do. It definitely wasn’t cleaning the barn, but she did do a good job.


    “Yes, Freya, after breakfast tomorrow, you can come with us to the city,” Gareth’s eyebrow cocked in question. “You did a fine job in here,” I added, giving her some praise. “I have some business at Wigand’s, and Gareth can take you to Sweets and Treats.” It was her favorite candy store in the city. Well, it was one of two candy stores in Solaris City, and there was just one general store in Hen’s Hollow that had candy.


    Her expression was furrowed. “And I will give a copper. You, my dear sister, are going to rot your teeth,” I said, mussing her hair and smiling at her. She just burst into a bright smile as she ran and hugged me. Ugh, she transferred some dust to my damp, sweaty clothes. Not that I was very clean, and her nose wrinkled at my body odor.


    The three of us retired to the loft, and I told Freya about our upcoming lessons with Captain Callem. She would have to cover our absence, which wouldn’t be too difficult as we frequently spent all day at our various enterprises. Eventually, I would tell Father about the lessons, but I planned to keep them secret for a time so Pascal wouldn’t be jealous and worm himself into them.


    After figuring doing the math, she was even more upset that we would be gone six to seven hours, for three days a week. I appeased her, saying we would bring her to the city with us every 2^nd day of the week, and I would give her a copper to save or spend. That was the upper range of what she made ‘helping’ with our various errands every week.


    We all went to the river to swim so we could clean up. There were other town kids there, and soon, we were all playing in our underclothes in the water. Things briefly got interesting when Brianne showed up and talked privately to Gareth out in the middle of the shallow water before leaving in a huff. I was curious about the exchange, but Gareth wouldn’t tell me what it was about. He just blushed and didn’t respond. The misty evening clouds denoting twilight moved in, and we ambled home.


    I made dinner that night. I fried something similar to polenta, adding a white cheese sauce with chunks of bacon, and made a salad with sweet peppers, red onions, and a simple oil and vinegar dressing. Pascal delighted in relaying his tales of sword practice with his friends and his ‘outstanding’ victories. I remained silent through dinner other than mentioning that I would bring Freya to the city tomorrow.


    I lay in my bed later that night. It was time to manifest some coins. I decided to go with silver this time. A large lump of silver was on my chest when I had finally depleted my aether stores. It was quite heavy. I started turning the lump into large silver coins. In the end, I had six large shiny silver coins and enough remaining material for six regular silver. The total value of the silver was just two-thirds the value of a single gold coin. So, I had made much less than the value of gold. In terms of ounces, I estimated I could make 1.3 ounces of gold compared to 6.6 ounces of silver. So, was my ability a multiple of five? Could I then make three platinum coins equal to 300 gold!? I would have to wait till tomorrow night to find out since my aether was depleted. I added the six silver coins to my pouch and the large silver coins to my stash. My dizziness from draining my core soon faded, and sleep embraced me.


    Chapter 8: Captain Callem POV


    Captain Callem woke up early to walk, weed, and water his fields. He took pride in working the land after spending his life serving the citizens. He was once Commander Callem, overseeing all the naval training for Skyholme. Under his guidance, the navy built and crewed more sky ships than ever in its long history. The new Triumvirate Council has since slowed its growth due to bureaucratic hurdles.


    The survival rate of Skyholme’s Marines had also increased during his supervision. This was due to the improvements he instituted at the Naval Academy. But as with all good things, that had come to an end when Lord Councilor Oskar to the Triumvirate’s Military arm was retired with a dagger in the back. His death had not been made public knowledge.


    Lord Councilor Oskar had been a friend and supporter of Callem’s efforts. The intrigue of the three ruling families was outside the scope of his duty, but his friend’s assassination had hit him hard. Callem had two daughters to worry about and five grandchildren. If he made waves, he risked them coming under scrutiny by the unsavory politics of the capital.


    Not long after, Callem was asked to assume a lesser role or retire. Callem had too many friends and too much influence in the capital for the new Lord Councilor to trust him. He did neither and was demoted to Captain and assigned to Titan’s Shield to oversee the barracks in Hen’s Hollow.


    Barracks? Now, that was a joke. Nine men, five of whom were assigned in rotation to the town gate, and the other four were assigned to the airship dock. Also, not a single one of them lived in the barracks. The only good thing was that the barracks served as the town’s first-year Academy, which meant he could watch the training of the young men and women in the first year of the Academy.


    His input completely overhauled the training and expectations at the small Academy. He wasn’t permitted to teach since he was on active duty, but occasionally, he would selectively mentor one or two students. One of those students was Caleb Hardlight. And today, Caleb was bringing his son to his farm in the morning for a lesson in swordsmanship.


    He looked over his farm with pride. He had enjoyed smoking tobacco. After much research, he had gotten ahold of a strong type of sweet tobacco whose seeds had been harvested in a dungeon in the lowlands. Most seeds from dungeons were difficult to grow since they required aetheric soil. Fortunately, he had a friend who made it possible by bringing him aetheric soil to keep his crop viable.


    His tobacco, when properly dried and shredded, gave off a pleasant blue-gray smoke and had the added effect of increasing one’s reaction speed for a short time after smoking it. The tobacco had the side effect of staining the smoker’s teeth with a blue tint. For Callem, getting the special toothpaste from the city’s apothecary was a nuisance to keep his teeth white and healthy from his tobacco habit.


    He suddenly seethed, looking over his cash crop as he had a flashback. The bastards in the capital had given him a Captain’s pension even though he had spent 42 years as a Commander. There is a sizable difference, just nine gold a month compared to thirty gold a month. Oh, nine gold was still a sizable sum out here in the poorest regions of Skyholme, but after everything he had given Skyholme, he hadn’t expected to be discarded and shorted.


    Well, the joke was on whatever bureaucrat had shorted him. He sent his pension to his two daughters and lived off his efforts on the farm. He had been retired for six years and earned nearly two hundred gold in profit annually from selling tobacco harvests about five times a year.


    A lot of the credit had to go to his mage friend, Admiral Sebastian. He was a Navy mage specializing in earth and nature magic. When he first moved out to Hen’s Hollow, Sebastian had cleared the land, built his house, and came by every other month to deliver aetheric soil and accelerate the field’s growth. In exchange, Callem had a fermentation and distillery in his basement, making a fantastic vodka using the three varieties of potatoes he grew. His vodka was exceptional, but he only made five gallons monthly and stored the product in special oak casks in his cellar to age it. He also grew sweet potatoes to sell in town and consume himself. Technically, he didn’t have a license to make vodka, but he dared the Brewer’s Guild to object.


    His other venture and pastime was training young men and women in combat. His remaining friendly contacts on the capital island would send their children to him before entering their first year of the Academy, and he would take a large gold for every three days of training. After he retired and built the farmhouse, he had trained two or three children monthly. Now, as time distanced himself from the capital, he only had two or three students come to his farm every year.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    His musings ended as Caleb Hardlight came into the clearing, walking beside a boy. Two more boys followed the pair, one quite large, and Callem wondered if he was still under 16 years old. Callem walked to Caleb, and the two separated from the boys to speak privately.


    Caleb started, “Thank you for taking your valuable time today to work with the boys. The large boy is my younger son’s friend, Gareth. My eldest, Pascal,” he gestured with his head to indicate the non-descript boy with excitement in his eyes. “He has gotten the basics from me and practices every day. My younger son there, Storme, is probably only here because of his friend.”


    Callem had a unique ability, true sight, which allowed him to see extreme details and clarity even in the dark. This allowed him to glean dozens of details through simple observation. Over the years, he had been able to sort and refine what he was seeing. He assessed the boys as they walked forward at Caleb’s invitation.


    Pascal was particularly fit but had a poor range of movement. His eagerness would also get him into trouble in a fight by overestimating his abilities. The big lad moved surprisingly well. He probably had manifested some ability because he didn’t have the marks of a trained fighter. The smaller boy, Storme, was distracted, and it was obvious his heart wasn’t in today’s lesson. It also looked like he was nursing some injuries or strained muscles from his movements.


    “I will do my best to get them self-aware in the next three hours,” he told Caleb.


    Caleb turned to the boys, “Captain Callem is an arms master. If he were to charge you for his time, it would be at the rate of one gold per hour. He is going to spend the next three hours with you boys, so pay attention and make good use of it.” Well, that sounded about right. Caleb had been a good student, but Callem could see from the man’s movements that he had not been diligent in his practice.


    He first brought the boys back and showed them the sixteen basic facilitated stretches for joint and muscle movement. The big lad, Gareth, was by far the most limber of the three and could probably make a good acrobat if he had the mind to.


    He now needed to teach the boys weapon care and safety and to see who had good focus and attention to detail. He demonstrated to the boys how to clean, store, and do minor repairs, then set them up for it. Once again, Gareth was at the top of the class, meticulously cleaning the weapons in his charge, tightening wraps, and carefully stowing the weapons when finished.


    Now came the fun part for the boys, “Ok, boys, it is time to try to find the weapon you wish to train with.” The excited boys wandered through the racks, and Gareth immediately pulled a saber—the better of the two sabers, Callem noted. Pascal, after a brief hesitation, went for a long sword. The weapon would be too heavy for him at his age and development—a poor choice.


    Storme moved among the shorter blades. He was smart, but he should have sought a spear or staff. He pulled a shorter blade and joined the other two. “Okay, staying on your feet, boys, is the most important thing to know to stay alive in a fight. We will spend the next hour drilling proper movement skills with your selected weapons.”


    The next hour was very enjoyable. None of the boys complained, and Gareth never needed to be corrected twice. This boy would be an amazing swordsman if he devoted his life to it. It had been a long time since he had seen someone with such potential. Pascal was doing well enough as well. Once he fixed his mobility issues, he should make a passable swordsman. The last boy, Storme, had some potential too. He was obviously fighting through some discomfort from injuries but didn’t complain and worked hard to try and match his bigger friend. The lesson ended up going a little long, but that was ok.


    “Good work today, boys. Remember the stretches and do them at least once a day. Practice the footwork with or without weapons. Balance will be key to attacking and defending. You all did well,” Callem said, leaving the boys after shaking Caleb’s hand and telling him he had good children. As Callem returned to his fields, he began thinking of ways to get Gareth out here regularly. It would be a shame to waste such innate talent.


    He was surprised to see the smallest boy returning and grabbing a small sack by the fence post. He must have forgotten it, but then he approached. “Captain Callem. Is it true you charge a gold per hour for instruction?” What, did he want private instruction?


    “Yes, what do you seek of me,” Callem said, trying to run out the possible conversation possibilities before they were spoken.


    “I wish to come three times a week with my friend Gareth for training. Hopefully, you will have time to train us on the 1st, 3rd, and 5th days after the mid-day meal. We have book lessons in the morning so cannot come earlier. But I ask you not to reveal this to my father or brother.” Storme said with a hopeful expression, but on the inside, Callem was jumping for joy, but that joy did not show on his face.


    Don’t seem too eager he reprimanded his inner mentor. He needed to bring the price down to something the boys could manage too, “Yes, that can be arranged. You will be here after the mid-day meal on those days, and I will train you two for three hours,” he said, and before the boy could object, he continued, “then you two will help around the farm for three hours to pay for the majority of your lessons.” That should be something they could manage.


    “I don’t train students for less than three hours at a time. Any shorter, and the muscle memory doesn’t take hold. Also, don’t expect my full attention if I have another student here during that time. In addition, I expect one silver coin per week from each of you for payment. The more you sacrifice for something, the more you will be thankful for it.” He was ready to add if they didn’t have the silver, they could run errands to the city for him, but the boy just nodded.


    Storme started looking around, probably trying to imagine what he would have to do. “Boy, there is plenty to do around here. A mage friend in the capital visits me every other month to fertilize the fields and grow tobacco. I also was thinking of building a new drying barn.”


    The boy’s hand shot out to shake, and he said, “Agreed.” Callem covered his surprise when the boy slipped him a coin. “Here is the first five week’s payment!” Seeing that it was a shiny, large silver coin, his jaw dropped a little. The boy was already off to rejoin the others.


    What were the gods working at? He wanted to train Gareth so bad he was ready to do something extreme, and instead, the boy was hand-delivered to him. He could also use the labor on the farm to train the boy’s muscles. If he was correct, Gareth would be one of the best swordsmen of his generation. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be foolish and run off and get himself killed in a dungeon. That thought pulled at his heart. His only son had died in a dungeon.


    Callem’s mind began to forecast what he would need to train Gareth. He should have them start by rebuilding the obstacle course in the woods…


    Two days later, the boys were walking into the farmhouse clearing wearing packs and having a lively conversation.


    Chapter 9: Obtaining the First Spell


    I awoke so sore I couldn’t move. Yes, that was a lie. It was just excruciating to move. The pain triggered a hazy memory of the first day of wrestling practice in high school when the coach decided to check out the team’s conditioning for the entire practice. I grabbed the lemon-scented salve and used the rest of it on the most painfully sensitive muscles and more significant bruises.


    I sat in my bed and found the leather backpack, which contained the book about various coins and light stone, nearby. It was still a little dark outside, so I used the light stone to explore the pages. The coins within were drawn to scale, and weights and metal alloy content were listed for each of them.


    The book was well written. Each page had a brief history of where the coins came from and then located that site within the Sphere before having detailed images and denominations of the coins. The most fascinating coins were the dungeon coins. According to the stories I had read, each dungeon manifested rewards, which usually included coins. But dungeon coins usually depicted monsters on both sides, usually floor-challenge monsters.


    If I had a bestiary, I could figure out what monsters resided in the dungeons just from the coins it rewarded. According to the book, most civilizations in the Sphere melted down dungeon coins and restamped them in their local currency. Dungeon coins were pure metal. Civilizations added other metals, reducing their purity but increasing their hardness.


    I thought this was truly a waste looking at some of the artwork on the dungeon coins. I had only made it a quarter of the way through the book before the house started stirring. It was my father’s turn to cook, and I smelled bacon and eggs. I thought I had better get up before he burned the eggs.


    At breakfast, Freya was super excited, and I was also happy because I had managed to save the eggs from my father’s cooking. Freya rarely got to go into the city. Since Gareth and I were usually just on errands when we went to the city, we didn’t take her often because she wanted to explore the various shops. After breakfast, I got my best backpack, dressed in my best clothes, and gathered all my coins. I planned to spend most of the day in the city and had a few purchases in mind.


    My gold coins needed to be altered to include 11% silver. I could try that while we walked, sticking my hand into my money poach. It would be a pain, but it would also increase my gold coins by 10%, so it was worth the effort.


    When I exited my room, Freya was ready to go, and I slipped her the promised copper for her to spend at Sweets and Treats. Gareth was outside waiting, but he had other plans, “Storme Captain Callem said we should do the stretches every day.”


    I held back a groan. How could the big guy still move? And he wanted to stretch? I conceded and stretched with him while softly moaning and grimacing the entire time but only voiced two or three complaints aloud. Well, two or three loudly enough for him to hear. Freya thought it was hilarious, especially since Gareth didn’t complain once and kept correcting my form. An hour later, we were off to the city. Freya and Gareth were having a lively conversation while I wept internally from the pain of simply walking and tried to distract myself by altering the gold coins.


    At the city gates, I palmed Gareth three large silver coins as I was heading in a different direction. I noticed a few local kids around the gate but didn’t recognize them as the ones who had assaulted me. Gareth eyed me, waiting for the word to act, but I just shook my head no. I was then off to see Wigand.


    I entered Wigand’s shop a short time later with a rough plan. I would put a deposit down on a spell in the name of my mysterious benefactor. However, when I entered the shop, I stopped dead. Under the one sole glass display case reserved for his most expensive books was a large book bound in a silvery, shimmering cover.


    “Storme!” Wigand greeted me with a massive grin on his face. “It is an impressive book. A patron brought it by. He found it in storage after his grandfather’s passing. He charged me with selling it. The cover is from a lightning drake hatchling. It shimmers like that because the scales have not formed yet. The cover itself is worth a large gold, but the contents! It contains within its pages the original schematics and runic inscriptions for the original Harbinger Skyship!”


    Well, that sounded impressive, but I didn’t know what it meant. Fortunately, he continued to explain excitedly, “The Harbinger Warship Storme! The core battleship of Skyholme’s fleets!” I tried to remember, but military skyships were outside my current education, and rarely flew low over Hen’s Hollow.


    Exasperated at my lack of excitement, Wigand exclaimed, “Storme, the first Harbinger, was built some 2000 years ago, designed by the famed shipwright Vaso Vidalatos. The Harbinger became the ship that allowed us to claim all eight islands and has been integral to repelling attacks from beasts, lowland kingdoms, and expanding our influence in the Sphere. The Harbinger boy!” He went to a shelf behind him, returned with a book, and thrust it into my hands. The title read The History of the Skyholme Navy. “You can borrow that for a week, no charge.”


    Then it clicked for me. Wigand had a dozen skyship miniatures in his back room. I had been back there twice, and each skyship was a meticulous model, even having small figures on the deck. Wigand had said they were famous warships that had perished in battle. “So, are you going to purchase the book for yourself?” I asked, making small talk, and Wigand scoffed.


    “Oh, I will page through it…but the price? If I had a conservative estimate, it would be ten platinum to a collector, but most likely two times that number at auction as it is a status symbol to own among the nobles. I could never afford that, even if I sold all my books. Well, maybe if I sold all my books. But I am in line for a 10% commission on the sale! The High Auction House in the capital is coming to get it tomorrow morning.” He looked disappointed and sighed. “The book has magic laced into it. It will never rot but cannot be duplicated by magic means.” He sighed. He pulled the book out and placed it on the counter. “You may look.”


    I came forward and touched the clasp. I sent my metal sense into it—it was platinum. It was my first time getting a feel for the metal, and I thought now I might be able to use my ability to create it. I started paging through and was instantly enthralled with what was detailed within.


    The beginning text detailed the best lumber and the preparation of the wood after it was harvested. Then came the ship’s construction schematics. It was awe-inspiring and detailed. The ship looked sleek and predatory. Much more impressive than the cargo haulers and passenger skyships that visited Hen’s Hollow. I was hooked and intense in my study as I turned each page. A stupid grin and smile were pasted on Wigand as he watched me.


    Then, the book’s second half had the runic inscriptions that made the skyships fly, powered by aether crystals harvested from dungeons. Studying the runes made me dizzy with their interwoven lines. There was a flow to them far beyond my understanding, but the maze of lines drew me in. I wanted to understand and knew I wanted to build my own skyship one day. Reluctantly, I closed the book. I needed to focus on today’s business.


    “Wigand, I came here today on behalf of my patron. She is seeking a book on creation magic, creating objects from aether directly. She has promised to get me a tier 1 spell if I can procure such a book. So, I am also seeking the cleanliness spell for myself. For a first spell, she advised me that it is versatile and that exact spell is what she uses to make her coins shiny and new.” I smiled earnestly, hating the fact I was lying.


    My gaze fell on Wigand’s prized book, and my thoughts were still straying to what had just regaled my vision. Twenty platinum for that one book—I asked, “How much does it cost to build a Harbinger?” I was off-topic, but I thought the side comment would help obfuscate my requests and perhaps give me something to strive for.


    As he was putting away the silvery tome and locking it behind his security measures in the display case. Wigand responded, “The classic Harbinger costs about 250,000 gold to build, or at least that is what the Triumvirate reports as the cost. But that includes overpriced parts and labor to grease the wheels of governance. 125,000 gold—Yes, that is what it would cost without any armaments, an aether power crystal, or inflated labor costs. Armaments can vary greatly. Aether cannons and aether power crystals can add tens of thousands of gold to the cost. Beyond that…the upkeep, crew, aether crystals…20,000 gold annually to operate.” Wigand’s dreamy look revealed he had researched and fantasized about this.


    Wigand’s focus returned to the sale, “Ah well. Okay, a book on creation magic. It is mostly the purview of the dungeons. A dungeon can create organic and inorganic things from the aether. Mages can create inorganic things with high-tier spells. There may be two mages in Skyholme with that type of power. But it is extremely inefficient. Then there are god-class beings. But they reside mostly on the 23 moons.”


    He pulled a hefty tome from beneath the desk that indexed hundreds of titles and began paging through a particular section. “Here is a good book for your patron: The Complexities of Aether Creationism, A Qualitative Comparison of Dungeon and Mortal Spellcraft. Let’s see. However, it is available for copying only from the Triumvirate Grand Library. Let’s see…48 gold for the copy, adding the tax and transport cost, 55 gold…and my commission,” he looked me in my eye, “60 gold total.”


    Wow, I had hoped for a cost of maybe ten gold, but this mysterious patron was hopefully going to be my cover for other purchases in the future. “That is easily within her means. How long to get a copy? And the cleanliness spell?” I replied, a little upset that the cost would take me five days to manifest.


    “Ah, the cleanliness spell. Glad you came to me instead of going to Margold’s shop. I may not be a mage, but I will not steer you wrong.” He said with his salesman smile. “The cleanliness spell is common, and there are dozens of variations of the spellbook from which to learn it. As with any spellbook, the detailed evolutions within are the true value.”


    I had learned that all spells evolved, basically leveling up. Each evolution allowed changes to the spell framework. You could make a fire spell hotter or bigger, for instance. “The best cleanliness spellbook accordingly,” Wigand continued, “is Guidance for Personal Manicuring and Hygiene, The Comprehensive Handbook for the Cleanliness Spell by Archmage Sana Velin. It has over 250 evolutions and is considered the best reference for the spell. And today is your lucky day, Storme! I know where to obtain a copy. It would cost 20 gold, though, since it is a rare version,” he looked at me, and I swallowed hard and nodded. That was much more than the 6 or 7 gold I planned to spend and extremely expensive for a tier-one spell.


    “The spellbook was in the estate of a war mage who recently lost her life. Her items have not yet been sent for sale, but one of my patrons has a list of the items the family is going to sell, and the book was among them with a buyout price of 20 gold. If I act in the next three days, I am certain I can get you the spellbook.” Wigand had doubt in his eyes that my patron would trust me with such a sum.


    I pondered, then pulled ten shiny gold coins from my pouch. I could pay for the spellbook in two days and bring a deposit for the other. “Will ten gold be enough of a deposit now? So, 20 golds in two days?” I asked hopefully. Wigand was wide-eyed at the amount of gold I was carrying and thought for a moment before responding.


    I added, “She had only promised me ten gold for a spellbook if I completed all her tasks, Wigand. But I am sure Gareth will loan me his ten gold.” It was a patchy excuse explaining how a fifteen-year-old could get 20 gold.


    “Quite the wealthy patron,” he said suspiciously.


    “I know. I think she is interested in recruiting Gareth after he completes Academy training.” I blurted. That would make perfect sense, as Gareth was larger than most adult men and was a phenomenal athlete.


    Wigand started to nod as he puzzled out the plausible explanation. “Yes, that should be enough to submit a request to start the copying request and hold your spellbook.”


    “Okay, when Gareth and Freya get here, please have them wait. I have a few errands,” I said as I left. Relieved that I had started the process of obtaining my first spell, I left the shop in high spirits, not even feeling my sore muscles. My next stop was at the pie street vendor, with whom I was friendly. We sold her blue pike to make fish pies, and I got a chicken and vegetable pie at a discount today to feed my healing body.


    My next stop was at the dressmaker. I placed an order for a light blue dress for Freya two weeks ago and came to pick it up today. Her birthday was soon, and she had repeatedly mentioned she was envious of Gwen’s blue dress. This one should upstage Gwen’s by a good margin. I paid the three silver I had due for the dress and packed it carefully at the bottom of my backpack.


    My next stop was the cooper shops. I was looking for a small barrel butter churner. They sold a four-gallon churn barrel that was mounted to a rack with a handle. I wasn’t going to make butter but ‘age’ my coins in it. Once I learned the cleanliness spell, I could pretend I was using the spell to make my coins shiny and new. Until then, we should dirty up the coins. Wigand had definitely been curious about my shiny coins and the mysterious patron.


    It was much bigger and heavier than expected, but I still paid 20 silver coins for it. With some straps, Gareth could carry the barrel, and I could manage the stand. My next stop was the butcher, two smoked hams, 40 sausages, and one pound of ground beef. I had introduced ground beef to this region of Skyholme, so the product was relatively new, but people had fallen in love with cheeseburgers, so it was available in most butchers now. I then bought some dried cooking spices from the apothecary. My funds were quickly dropping. My last stop was the cheese shop for a block of hard-aged cheese similar in taste to parmesan.


    Tonight, I would make fresh pasta noodles with tomato meat sauce. I returned to the bookstore, and Gareth and Freya were waiting for me. Freya was chewing on some soft caramel and looked happy. We all went back to the cooper to get the churn. I had to keep deflecting questions about why I had purchased it from Freya. But between Gareth and me, we convinced Freya to help us sneak it into the loft in the barn.


    Leaving the city, we did see the adolescents that had accosted me last time on the road. They were watching from a distance by the city gates. I pointed them out to Gareth, and he eyed them, burning their faces into his mind. They didn’t make a move on us, but there were six of them now, and I thought I remembered one of the new ones watching me during my shopping spree.


    Well, the trudge back to town could have been more fun. Even Gareth looked uncomfortable with the barrel strapped awkwardly to his back. We had no trouble getting the churn into the loft and were exhausted lying there with the task done. I caught Freya trying to sneak into my backpack, and she left us in a huff when I yelled at her curiosity, something I rarely did.


    Before my parents came home, I was in the kitchen. Freya made the noodles with flour and eggs, and Gareth cut up a light salad. Since I had paid for most of tonight’s dinner, Gareth would be eating with us. Gareth had already brought the sausages to his house and told his parents he was eating with my family. His mother’s favorite sausages were garlic, herb, and pork mixture.


    I made the meat sauce with two types of onions, tomatoes, and some seasoning before adding the cooked ground beef. The noodles were cooked, and the sauce was added on top with thin slices of hard cheese. Mother and Father returned home, and soon, everyone was eating. Pascal showed up a little late but joined us at the crowded table. There was enough for everyone to have seconds, and we all did.


    The small talk centered around the news of the recent skirmish with the Sadian Kingdom. It was rumored that we had lost two skyships in the conflict over control of one of the dungeons in the lowlands. The dungeon had evolved and was producing violet aether crystals in tiny amounts. It was the most valuable aether crystal as it held the most aether per unit. According to rumors, it wasn’t so much the fact that we needed the crystals, but we wished to prevent the Sadians from getting them.


    The Sadian and Skyholme peoples had been at war for the last millennia. We had the high ground, better skyships, and didn’t have to deal with many of the challenges of bordering kingdoms and beast-filled wilds. ‘At war’ might also be too strong a phrase. There was a major skirmish like the recent one every other year or so. The last major conflict before I was born was when the Sadians sent over 50 skyships to try and gain a foothold in Skyholme and failed to do so.


    The Sadians did have one advantage over us. They had better warriors and more numerous mages. They were also tolerant of other races; the people of Skyholme were humanists, and very few non-human races were allowed to reside on the islands. A few non-human traders had citizen status in Skyholme, but I had never seen one. Of course, the Wolfsguard also lived in the capital but did not have citizenship status. From my point of view, the Wolfsguard were closer to slaves.


    After dinner, I retired to my room, and Gareth went home. I was sure he would be topping off his meal with some garlic sausages. I didn’t have to do dishes as I had cooked. Pascal was already working furiously on them so he could go bathe in the river.


    Tonight, I was going to attempt to make a small platinum coin. I had a good understanding of the metal from Wigand’s shop today. I tried to do so for the better half an hour. I couldn’t make a small coin, as I kept defaulting to one ounce of the metal for a large coin.


    I needed more practice and refinement with my creation ability. I was getting overly tired from all the attempts, so I just made 13 gold coins and a little extra gold, exhausting my aether. But I compared the little extra with last night’s, and it was definitely slightly more.


    I slept well that night, exhausted and still sore. In the morning, Gareth brought some fig pastries and woke me early. He had talked to his mother, and we could start our lessons with Callem early today. “Fantastic,” I retorted. I didn’t match his enthusiasm, lacing my ‘joyful’ response with sarcasm.


    Lessons flew by. Numbers tables, a few questions, and we read and discussed three short ballads. Then Gareth was dragging me away as soon as we finished. I panicked a little as I had left my pouch on my bed with the 13 new gold coins I had made last night. My family wouldn’t steal them, but if they found them, they might question where I obtained them. Since we were already halfway to Callem’s farm, I would deal with any fallout later and be much more careful in the future.


    We were soon joking back and forth as we walked to the tobacco farm. I was trying to tease him about his exchange with Brianne at the swimming hole. I was curious about what had made her angry, but he wouldn’t divulge what was said.


    As we got closer to Captain Callem’s farm, our conversation turned to using the butter churn to age the coins and what we should add: rocks, metal cubes, dirt, some oil, water… It was an in-depth conversation about how much and what would be best to age the coins. We came out of the woods to see Captain Callem looking at us, and I swear he smiled in anticipation. Gareth also seemed eager to start. I was the only one apprehensive and still sore. What had I gotten myself into?


    ? Copyrighted 2024 by AlwaysRollsAOne


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