As he sat in the skimmer, gazing out at the harsh yet beautiful wilderness zooming by outside, Lord Basilev Van Sztramm was currently regretting some life choices. Namely in not being a bit more patient in his youth and holding out for awakening stones more likely to provide him with powers of teleportation or even the vaunted portal. Instead, as things stood, he was forced to endure the four-hour trip the slow way, even if his current means of conveyance - a personal transport skimmer equipped with every creature comfort possible to cram onto such a vehicle and still comfortably be able to seat up to half a dozen people - should have been more than enough.

  “But when discovery and new horizons awaits, patience doesn’t come easily,” he thought, looking at the oblong wood box currently containing the spear. Van Sztramm would have liked to begin his studies immediately even during the ride, at least on the surface level, but there was a complication to it all which he had noted the moment he snatched it from that little silver-ranker.

  “I wonder how he could manage the resonance for so long when even I couldn’t endure the contact for more than a few minutes. It’s a good thing I decided not to kill him at least. This means that we can always bring him in for questioning down the line, should we need to.”

  The fact that killing the adventurer would have the adventure society up in arms and no doubt attempt to crawl all over his business during what would, in all probability, be a crucial time in his career did also play into the decision, even if Van Sztramm wanted to think himself beyond reproach from people such as them.

  Turning his mind to more interesting things, Van Sztramm instead chose to turn to address the latest addition to his personal research team and currently the only one with him in the skimmer on the way to his villa with the exception of other, more menial staff.

  “How goes the compilation of the different resonance levels so far?” he asked Astana Ljublia, the blonde woman almost jumping in her seat at the sudden address. The start was mostly in her aura though, along with several other nuances of nervousness and excitement, and the younger woman composed herself quickly.

  “My Lord, our improvised trials have so far yielded mostly scattered results. You were, of course, the one able to endure the resonance for the longest duration. Among the silver-rankers in your guards back in the city and myself, the results range from thirty seconds to two minutes and forty-seven seconds. It should be noted that your handmaid managed to last longer than any of the silvers, and that I suspect it to be the ordinary feedback of touching a higher-ranked object which forced her to break contact.”

  “Interesting,” Van Sztramm replied, nodding to himself.” We will have to arrange more trials further once the others arrive. Extracting them all from their projects at once would raise too much suspicion though, so it will be just you, me and the servants for the first few days. Enough to start some preliminary experiments and initial lines of inquiry. I will spare no expense in this, as the rewards in the form of future glory should pay dividends a hundredfold.”

  “I don’t want to be too presumptuous, My Lord, so I hope that you don’t mind me asking…” Lady Ljublia Began, pausing briefly before continuing at a nod from her superior. “Did you find some kind of confirmation? That this object was something extraordinary? Because outside of the odd resonance, I detected nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Oh Astana, I did. I did indeed,” Van Sztramm replied, feeling most pleased as he sat back in his seat. “While I was touching the spear I could sense enough to confirm your hypothesis that the weapon is alive, at least in a sense. It has an aura of its own, distinct and sentient. I even managed to dig out some notes of fear from it during my brief contact earlier today. They still felt distant and vague though, so perhaps it is a simple being with basic emotions like a child? But it was nonetheless there, which means that there are plenty of answers for us to find.”

  Van Sztramm could sense relief flood through the noblewoman’s aura at his words, which pleased him. Astana Ljublia had the kind of temperament he valued in his underlings, with just the right level of independent initiative to be useful.

  “Even so, we must be both disciplined and brave, Astana. We might be breaking new ground here. And that will require that we do everything within our capacity to find answers. Everything. I do hope that your dedication will remain firm. It would be a shame to find out that I made a mistake in recruiting you.”

  His words had the intended effect this time as well, causing a jolt of worry and determination to surge within Ljublia’s aura as she hurriedly spoke.

  “Of course, Lord Van Sztramm. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Whatever it takes, I will not fail you.”

  “Good. Good,” Van Sztram said, smile widening as he leaned further into the plush skimmer chair. “Hard work awaits us. Hard work, and interesting times. Where we will turn opportunity into fortune. And even better to have snatched that opportunity from beneath the noses of the undeserving brutes of the adventure society. Even though we won't ever meet again, I almost wish I could see their faces once the fruits of our labors are eventually revealed to the world.”

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Teacher,” Kite said as he admitted Ryker to his room at their shared lodgings. The hotel wasn’t part of the adventure society campus itself, but situated nearby and apparently used to cater to visiting foreign essence-users. As such, it had enough privacy and defensive arrays to be counted as a small fortress in certain more mana-sparse parts of the world. Therefore it was an excellent place to carry out any meetings or conversations which one would rather keep private.

  “It sounded important,” Ryker grunted in way of reply as he entered the room, where Christine and Mtanga were already waiting.

  “Do you know if Linger will-”

  “Already here!” the celestine’s voice called from the seemingly empty corridor, his lurker form revealing itself a moment later before shrinking back to reveal the smiling man with the matte gray metallic hair and eyes. Even casual as his tone was though, the man wore his light armor and gear in apparent readiness.

  “Better safe than sorry, given the tone of your message,” Linger commented with a grin upon seeing Kite take note of his attire. “Fellow adventurers rarely call upon each other like that if there isn’t anything remotely dangerous involved.”

  Linger took a seat in one of the few chairs in the rather small room, and Kite immediately found himself the center of attention.

  “The truth first, advice later,” he thought to himself, gathering his words. “I… need your advice on a certain matter, one complicated in more ways than one. But there is context that needs to finally be shared, and I will forewarn you that there is so much of which I don’t know either. Most of it, probably.”

  “Oh, this is sure to be good then,” Mtanga said, the dark-skinned man shooting Kite a bright smile. “Come on, Kite. Don’t keep us waiting. You’re among friends.”

  “I know. And thanks,” Kite replied, feeling some of the tension bleeding away. “I just… I wish she would have seen that too.”

  “She?” Christine asked, before her eyes lit up in revelation as she pieced together some few snippets of details which Kite had already told her. “No, wait, do you mean-?”

  “I do,” Kite said, turning to the rest as he began his explanation in earnest. “Back during the strike against the ritual of the Everfrost Order, when you sent me ahead as a linebreaker, I met someone. Or rather, she was flung here from gods knows where. Her name is Laevyeth, and she is of a most strange existence. You might wonder why you haven’t seen her, and it is here one of the first great oddities come in; you have. She is the spear I have been carrying around these past days. Well, not only a spear, even though I believe it to be her original form.”

  “The spear…?”

  Ryker’s statement managed to sound both gruff and a bit disbelieving at the same time. Only slightly though, as he had been part of Gauntlet for a lot longer than Kite. And Kite had already seen his fair share of odd magics during the contracts with the task group to understand if it might make one inured to the ‘impossible’.

  “Indeed, the spear,” Kite confirmed. “Her nature is both fascinating and alien to me, even though her story is a sad one of loneliness and abandonment. Apparently-”

  Kite proceeded to tell the group what little he and - if his impression was to be believed - Laevyeth herself knew; of her mysterious creator of unknown power, her so-called purpose and subsequently being cast aside when she failed to meet it. And of her described experiences with her prison crumbling, ending with her finding herself face to face with Kite.

  “-and while in her spear form, she is most adept at hiding her aura even if she can also get very close with one touching her on a spiritual level should she wish. And Laevyeth she was - is - afraid. Very afraid. So she begged me to carry her to freedom in secret, not trusting anyone else. Probably not me either, at least not fully, but I seemed to have been deemed at least good enough for now. And as I could detect no falsehood, ill intent or anything of the sort during our time together - combined with the fact that she was of silver rank - I went with her wishes.”

  “And kept a pretty big secret from us, your team,” Ryker noted, clearly displeased. “Silver or not, that’s a damn huge security risk, Kite. What were you thinking?”

  “Oh calm down, Ryker,” Christine countered. “Kite had been a good judge of spirit and character before. You’re the one who trained him to be, remember? Helping this Laevyeth out and respecting her wishes, at least for a time, isn’t that outlandish. Whatever she is-”

  “Outworlder.”

  It was Mtanga who spoke after having looked to be deep in thought for a time as Kite told of the odd events.

  “She’s an outworlder. She has to be,” the man continued as the others turned to him. “A ritual gone awry in a chaotic way, one involving some flavor of astral magic no less? It has to be. Gods, I should have figured it out faster. Shame, Mtanga. Real shame.”

  “Hmm, wait, you've told me about those at some point. Very rare, but not unheard of? Beings pulled across the astral due to cosmic flukes? Often alone, confused and in possession of odd powers? That… does fit the bill,” Christine agreed. “It looks like I should start listening a bit more closely to when you get all fired up about astral magic.”

  “Well, I’m a journeyman within the subject at best,” Mtanga said modestly. “It is a very difficult field, with few across the world even finding it worthy to study in detail.”

  The term outworlder had also sparked a memory for Kite, as he realized that he too had heard it before when Little Crow told him of his clan’s patriarch and founder; the famous Tengu, apparently also having originated from somewhere beyond the stars.

  Turning to Ryker, Kite broke back into the conversation when he found a suitable gap in Christine and Mtanga’s back-and-forth discussion of astral magic theory.

  “For what it’s worth, Teacher, I have made numerous attempts to convince Laevyeth to share her existence with you. But while she might share some of my knowledge of you, trust is based on more than theory. And Laevyeth always felt afraid. So very afraid. Hence she had yet to acquiesce.”

  Ryker nodded once to acknowledge Kite’s reasons and the apology therein before replying. “How come you’ve changed your mind now though and stopped respecting her wishes? Because from the sound of it, it isn’t she that has changed her mind.”

  “Because- ,” Kite began, steadying himself at the wave of bitter feelings welling up at what he was about to say. “- she has been taken. Today. By the magic society, or at least one of its members. Lord Van Sztramm, their gold-ranker from the expedition, baited me into a trap at the trade hall. I honestly have no idea how they found out about Laevyeth’s existence, but it was no fluke. He demanded her specifically, but always called her ‘the spear’ so might not have known the full extent of her sentience.”

  At this revelation, Kite felt the auras of all gathered sharpen in different reactions of outrage. Calling the cooperation smooth during the expedition would be a bald-faced lie if there ever was one, after all. And the first who spoke was the one who had borne the brunt of it.

  “That underhanded son of a dung ooze!” Ryker swore. The man always looked gruff and terse, and Kite was surprised at the depth of the man’s expressions as they could somehow convey the full, qualitative difference between his normal state and the fury which was rippling through his aura, clear as day as he continued.

  “That decay-spewing mongrel. All that talk of the proper rules and codes of conduct, using the contracts as a weapon in every case possible no matter the dignity of it. And now he - a gold-ranker - outright robs one of ours?!”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Ryker remained seated throughout the whole tirade, even if he gave off the sense of wanting to pace about the room like an agitated drake.

  “But how would they even have known, if she’s as good at hiding as you said, Kite?” Mtanga asked. “From what I know, outworlders tend to often have their racial abilities made to help them survive their new environments, so if she has indeed been augmented in such a way I’m surprised that they actually discovered her. I didn’t think more of it besides finding it odd that you were carrying that spear around all the time without putting it into your dimensional storage, as- oh, wait! You couldn’t right? Because she is also a person? Fascinating-”

  “Mtanga has a point there,” Ryker said, interrupting before the more theoretically interested archer could go off on a tangent. “But they might have suspected it early, perhaps even from the start. In direct opposition to our wishes, Lady Ljublia was one of the first to enter the ritual chamber once we broke through the door. Perhaps she noticed something, and that’s why she tried to claim the spear from you then and there?”

  “Perhaps,” Kite agreed. “She did act oddly around me at times, both during the time spent at the order’s compound and afterwards. Especially after one of the conference meetings where she was suddenly all polite and proper.”

  “You mean that time she made some odd moves afterwards?” Christine asked, having been there.

  “Indeed. But that is just mere speculation on my part, and probably less relevant to the more pertinent question; how can I get Laevyeth out from their clutches? I may not know her too well, but I am most convinced that no one - and least of all her - deserves to end up as someone’s tool or test subject.”

  “As, unfortunately, more than one outworlder has,” Mtanga added grimly. “They aren’t common in the first place, which has made some less scrupulous interested parties scoop them up for some disturbing so-called research.”

  “My first thought was to go to Sir Ilmaril, but given what Van Sztramm said and the current level of discord between the two societies during this expedition, I wanted to broach the topic with you first.”

  The others seemed to give the matter some thought before Ryker eventually spoke.

  “While I don’t like it, I think that you were right to come to us first. Van Sztramm wouldn’t have dared such a move, or at least not left you alive, if he had thought that you merely going through official channels would be enough to cause him trouble. It might just be the bluster of a jumped-up, core-using fop, but that fop is still a gold-ranker with a lot of local influence. Butting bureaucratic heads with the magic society would take time. Lots of time. Time which Van Sztramm can use to make the spear - Laevyeth, was it? - disappear properly.”

  Kite was about to reply when Ryker held up a hand, forestalling him.

  “You barely know her, Kite. Is she worth tangling with local powers for, however shitty people they might be?”

  Kite took a few seconds to think it over and really ponder his question. And eventually, he nodded.

  “You are indeed correct, Teacher. I don’t know her, at least not in most ways. But I have felt her spirit and her fear, as well as a desperate longing for freedom and purpose. It may be a tad idealistic, but it feels like Laevyeth deserves a better chance to find them than this, especially under her circumstances. No one should be thrown into a world that is not their own only to end up a prisoner solely due to their nature. So… yes. If I can, I will make the attempt. Perhaps I can portal in reinforcements from home, or-”

  “That’s enough for me. I’m in.”

  Ryker’s terse statement was a simple one, but carried a world of meaning as he gave Kite a nod, turning to the others.

  “Christine?”

  “Me too! From what you described, Kite, this Laevyeth is, in a sense, just another one of the people we adventurers - and Gauntlet - are here to protect. Scared, alone and caught up by powers beyond them wanting to use them for their own gains. My uncle might be very caught up in society politics these days, but he definitely raised me right,” the elf said, a hidden intensity smoldering beneath her calm exterior.

  Ryker nodded, seeming unsurprised as he continued. “Mtanga?”

  “Well, I can’t just let you go off on your own like this. And I do agree with your sentiments too. Would feel wrong just to back out. And besides, meeting an outworlder isn’t something you get every lifetime.”

  “Linger? You haven’t known the rest of us but-”

  “Are you kidding? Dashing off to save a maiden in distress from unscrupulous researchers and haughty nobles? How could I not?” the celestine man interrupted, leaning forward eagerly before he turned to Ryker, his smile growing a bit more impish. “And besides, don’t pretend like the opportunity to maybe beat up a few magic society fops isn’t part of the reason why you’re in, team leader.”

  Ryker didn’t confirm the other man’s claim, but Kite did note that he sure didn’t deny it either.

  “It seems like we’re all in then, Kite. But we need to think quickly here and move decisively, people. Intel will be sparse, but we’re more than used to working with that. And I don’t think it needs pointing out that this is something done strictly of our own initiative. Unless we deem it necessary from the beginning, Sir Ilmaril won’t know of this unless he really needs to. Allows him deniability.”

  “Teacher… All of you, I-” Kite began, trying to express his gratitude when Ryker waved him down.

  “Thanks are for later when we know if it’s actually doable,” the gruff man said, standing up. “We’ll split up and make sure that we gather what we can. I assume that you have an idea on how to track this Laevyeth down in the first place?”

  “I- I do,” Kite replied, collecting himself as his mind shifted to the familiar state of the preparations and planning he had done when things took an unexpected turn during previous contracts; hunker down, sweep for intel, move, act decisively, reassess, repeat. “Laevyeth actually confessed to her having some kind of racial ability which hampered tracking. That was actually the reason we went to the trade hall from the start.”

  “Interesting,” Mtanga said, “From what little has been gathered, it seems to be a common power among outworlders, at least those that have shared. What solution did you come up with?”

  “We… hadn’t actually come that far, so I had to improvise. When Van Sztramm Cornered us, I managed to have her take my adventure society badge into her dimensional storage space. It was a most improvised solution, but if she managed to drop it discreetly somewhere without too much magical shielding of the right kind, it should be easy enough for us to get a tracking stone.”

  “Hmm, risky, but it could work,” Mtanga mused. “The tracking link in the badges is quite potent, so it should give us a good shot. It might even be able to track it in her storage space, depending on how her power works. I wonder if she’ll be amenable to sharing a bit more about it-”

  “Then that is an option which you and Kite will pursue,” Ryker said, interrupting any further tangents. “Linger and I will gather what intel we can on Van Sztramm and his research team. Depending on where he is and who’s with him, going to Sir Ilmaril might be our only reasonable course of action. And Christine, you should go to him and ask for us to have some leave from his entourage for the final stretch of the conference. Use whatever codes you need to tell him that it’s important but that he needs plausible deniability for now. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “Oh he will, especially when it is his favorite niece who comes knocking.”

  “I thought that was Clara.”

  “Well, his second favorite then,” Christine corrected, shooting the now subtly smug Ryker a flat look.

  “Everyone understand? Then gather here in three hours at the most. Gauntlet, move out.”

  “Thank you, Fortune. And you too, Unity. Because when it comes to company, I have truly been blessed,” Kite thought in silent prayer as they all rose to go about their different tasks. “As for what might lay ahead… Warrior, bless our strikes and keep our hearts steady. Because if things come to that, it sounds like we might soon be taking the fight to a gold-ranker.”

  Laevyeth had really thought that she had learned patience after that indeterminable time spent strapped to the wall in some crumbling workshop. Patience and temperate self-restraint. But as she was currently held within the grasp of that reprehensible man with the blonde mustache, his gaze intent as seemed to bore into her much like he was currently doing with his aura.

  And with the contact, Laevyeth couldn’t really hide, at least not all of her. Bits and pieces had started to slip from her spiritual grasp, and each one had seemed to egg him on. His spirit pressing into her was vile, rife with pure ambition and deceit of both others and himself. Through the disgusting close contact, she could feel that the man was even managing to convince himself that what he was doing was noble; an end to justify the means.

  “Oh heavens, why wouldst thou punish me like this,” she thought, having grown fond of Kite’s habit of using the metaphor. It was vague enough to only indicate some higher power which may or may not exist, yet precise enough to add that dramatic touch to one’s statement. Because at this time, Laevyeth really felt punished by some hidden force as her fears had come true.

  But at least there was one reprieve in the torment where she had found herself, as her own purity and nature meant that the man could not keep pressing her for long.

  “Just a little longer-”

  “Bah!” the man called, dropping Laevyeth back onto the workbench where his assistant, the blonde human woman, once more screwed a pair of sigil-embossed clamps around Laevyeth’s haft.

  It was obvious that she suffered from the discomfort of the dissonance too, even though the woman’s spirit was at least a smidgeon less reprehensible. Sure, Laevyeth felt much of the similar ambition in her, but it was purer and less filled with lies. This woman knew herself and there was a kind of purity in that. Not the one resonating with Laevyeth, not even close. But at least her touch wasn’t as vile.

  “Anything new, my Lord?” the woman asked, grabbing a notepad and pen as she had each time before in readiness to record his words.

  The man took a moment to straighten and regain his composure before he spoke, pacing slowly around the room - some kind of basement workshop that was leagues below what Laevyeth remembered from that of her creator - with his hands behind his back as he mused out loud.

  “Trial five, six hours into initial testing. Aura probing continues to yield fragmented results. Snippets of emotions mostly, but enough to further solidify our hypothesis that the spear is alive and sentient. As it can resist even my attempts for prolonged time, we can’t yet disprove that it possesses some kind of shielding or other enchantments for the purpose. A silver-ranked entity couldn’t otherwise perform such a feat, of that I am sure-”

  The recitation continued for a while, which to Laevyeth seemed to consist of the man trying to say the same thing in as many different ways and wordings as possible. Still, his assistant dutifully noted them down during the ten or so minutes for which he spoke. Eventually, he turned to regard Laevyeth’s still form with a considering look in his blue eyes.

  “Another attempt, my Lord?” the assistant asked, and Laevyeth felt a wave or relief as the man eventually shook his head.

  “No, not right away. A bit of refreshments and meditation first. Clear the mind and all that. Lana may be our only servant on staff currently, but she is a miracle worker in the kitchen. More staff should arrive along with the guards tomorrow, with the rest of my research team trickling in over the week. But be prepared to go on throughout the night, Astana. These initial tests might be crucial, allowing us to form a foundation. I should break through its spiritual defenses in this attempt or the next, which should open up a world of possibilities. You’ll see.”

  The gold-ranker walked towards the door without further ado, waving behind him as he called over his shoulder. “Make sure to fasten the truesilver clamps properly. While we have yet to see any attempts at shapechanging, I am not yet ready to rule out the possibility that the glimpse you caught was just that.”

  “Of course, my Lord,” the assistant - Astana Ljublia, as Laevyeth had heard her be named - said, walking over and looking down on Laevyeth where she remained suspended above the work table. A few twists made the clamps keeping Laevyeth in place grip her even firmer, and after silent a nod of satisfaction, the human woman followed her superior, closing the door to the basement workshop behind her.

  This left Laevyeth alone with only the light of the glow stones for company as dusk had already fallen outside the thin windows close to the ceiling of the stone room.

  “I say to thee; good riddance,” she thought, taking a moment to steady herself. The fear clawed at her insides, but Kite had been right during their last, brief conversation when things had gone oh so wrong; Laevyeth needed to focus.

  “Come then, oh new form of mine.”

  But even though she sent the mental command to change shape, nothing happened. Her instinctual knowledge told her that the ability was still there, just unresponsive.

  “What did they call these then? Truesilver?” she pondered, frustrated as she regarded the gleaming silver clamps keeping her suspended above the table. Each of the pair was covered with glowing lines of unknown purpose, or at least partially unknown as they apparently had the ability to block her shapeshifting.

  It was odd to feel a distinct sense of loss at the thought as Laevyeth pondered her options. The humanoid form hadn’t been with her for long and she had used it only a handful of times, the fear of discovery urging caution.

  “And look where that path took me,” Laevyeth grumbled. “I could have made merry and danced through the streets with abandon whilst I yet had the chance. To think that one could miss something so foreign…”

  The thoughts and frustration made her feel small again, so very small, as it was as if she was back at the wall of that crumbling workshop.

  “Oh, Kite, I beseech thee. Please keep thy promise and do not forget me. I-”

  Laevyeth’s thoughts ground to an abrupt halt as they thought of the first human she had met on this world sparked a memory. A most important one, at that.

  “Foolish spear! Foolish, foolish!” she thought as her mind went to the badge which Kite had pressed to her, resting in the space that was hers and hers alone. “He gave you the potential of salvation, and what art thou doing? Mewling in misery. Truly, thou shalt be renamed ‘The sodden lance crying desperate tears’ if thou continue like this.”

  Kite had urged her to drop the badge somewhere, and it was not hard to guess that in plain sight of Laevyeth’s captors would not do.

  “So where… Ah!”

  She had started looking around frantically, and soon saw it; a gap between the work bench she was currently strapped to and the stone wall behind. The back of the bench was a solid piece of wood which Laevyeth assumed stretched all the way down to the floor, thus leaving no risk for the badge to simply clatter out from beneath the piece of furniture.

  Without giving herself more time to fret, Laevyeth sent the mental command to her storage power, hoping that her sense of distance did not fail her. The badge appeared in the air without a sound, angled along the wall. Laevyeth was deeply thankful that Kite had urged her to get a feeling for the range of the ability during their days spent together, and so she had known that the thirty or so centimeters from her position to the wall was well within range.

  The pull of the earth soon asserted its dominance, and Laevyeth felt a vast amount of tension leave her spirit as the badge disappeared into the small space.

  “And now, Laevyeth. Patience. Patience and temperance,” she told herself, steadying her spirit against the assaults that would no doubt continue in short order. “And dare to trust in Kite. His vow seemed most earnest, after all.”