Chapter 51

After their meeting with Wulla, the three piled into Elia's room. Rhea reverently held the piece of sky ash, turning it over in her hands with a look of near disbelief."Are you okay over there?" Elia asked, leaning back against her cluttered desk with her arms crossed. Her ears flicked as she studied Rhea's expression. "You've been staring at that thing as if it's going to sprout wings and fly away. That's not why it's called sky ash, is it?"

Rhea shook her head slowly, dismissing the bad joke. "Do you even realize how rare this is?" She didn't look up, her gaze still fixed on the shimmering wood. "Sky ash isn't the kind of thing you just hand out—it's practically extinct outside controlled groves. This single piece could buy you rent for a shop in Floria's center for a year."

Elia whistled low. "Huh. Guess that explains why Mom didn't just give it away outright."

“It’s not just the value." Rhea finally looked up, but her gaze immediately shifted to Nick, who sat on the floor with the wyvern bone in his lap. He hadn't spoken since they'd gone up. His eyes were fixed on the sky ash, which emitted an almost imperceptible glow.

"Nick," Rhea said softly. "You must be feeling it even stronger than I, aren't you?"

He blinked, her voice breaking the trance. His mouth opened as if to deny it, but then he sighed and leaned back against the bedframe. "Yeah. I feel it. It's… like it's calling to me." He ran a hand through his hair, the corners of his mouth twitching in a wry smile. "I know deep in my bones that this is the right wood. I thought the wand would just be a useful tool, but I'm actually starting to believe the hype about foci if they all feel this spot-on, even in the raw state."

Elia tilted her head, studying him. "That sounds like a good thing. Why aren't you acting as if it's a good thing?"

Nick huffed a laugh but didn't respond. His mind was spinning; the pull of the sky ash tempted him in ways he hadn't expected. He was an old hand at evaluating the worth of an ingredient, and while he'd been awed at being in the presence of the wyvern's corpse, this was somehow even more profound an experience. The piece of wood called to him in a way that was almost concerning. If he used it in a ritual instead of crafting a wand…

He shook the thought away. No, that wasn't the plan. The wand was meant to be a bridge to greater understanding, not a shortcut. He had come too far to abandon the process now. "It's perfect for the wand," he said firmly. "Let's focus on that."

Rhea seemed relieved. "Good. Because if you suggested putting it in a potion or something like that, I'd probably throw this thing into the fire myself."

Elia snorted. "That'd go over well with my mom. She might eat you in revenge." Though her tone was light, something told Nick she wasn't joking. But that was impossible, right? Wulla was a sweetheart, and Nick now owed her an enormous debt.

Rhea ignored her, carefully setting the sky ash on the desk. "Now that we have the materials, let's recap. Nick, what is the next step?"

Nick hummed, refocusing on more important matters. "The carving, for one. The wood and bone need to be joined carefully, or you said the resonance would suffer. The wyvern core must also be carefully added to the mixture to serve as both a filter and stabilizer. You mentioned you are confident you could do it, but I'd feel more comfortable if we attempted it in an isolated room. The whole process could destabilize if we were interrupted halfway through."

"And we already have everything else. Ogden's binding agents are the best, Nick, so you don't have to worry about the wand coming apart once it's completed." Rhea added offhandedly.

"That was a possibility?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"There is always a possibility of failure." She replied. Then, taking a deep breath, she continued, "My grandmother always took even the most basic precautions despite being a Prestige class. If she felt the need to do so, then so should we. It'll just be about assembling everything and enchanting it. I can handle the final attunement."

"What?!" Nick couldn't help the exclamation from leaving his lips. He had refrained from questioning Rhea about her family, as it was obvious she was still in pain about their fate, but she couldn't expect to drop something like that without a reaction.

"What?!" She growled back, making it clear she wouldn't elaborate.

"What!" Elia joined in, successfully lowering the temperature and earning two sighs.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Nick decided to let it go for now. There was no way Rhea was the granddaughter of a Prestige artificer and could think she could get away without answering his questions, but unfortunately, he needed her help, and annoying her would be counterproductive.

Before they could continue, a sudden commotion outside drew their attention. Shouts and the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed down the street. Nick stood, peering out the window as a man on horseback galloped past. "The caravan's a day away!" he shouted, repeating the announcement as he rode along the village road.

Elia exchanged a look with Rhea. "I thought they weren't supposed to arrive for another week."

Rhea frowned. "So did I. Something must have changed."

Nick turned away from the window, his expression thoughtful. "If the caravan is arriving early, they must have heard about the stampede. Any good merchant would want to get their hands on the bounty before the competition learns of it."

"Let's hope that's all it is. Greedy merchants are hardly surprising, and I suppose they were already on their way here. If they heard about it, they might have used some artifact to speed up their pace," Rhea muttered while gathering their materials and putting them back in the ghostgrass pouch. "Those are rarely worth it because they’re so expensive to make and often break right after the first use, but I suppose they would be worthwhile in this case."

Elia shrugged, appearing unconcerned though her ears were flat on her head. Nick knew she was worried about the inspection. She had the right to be; had he not been building himself a focus through possibly illegal methods, he would have done something about it.

Ultimately, he said nothing, preferring to bump her shoulder with his in a show of silent comfort. Every member of their group had something they wanted to keep to themselves, though some were more shocking than others.

When Nick left Elia's house and bid farewell to the girls, the sun hung low on the horizon.

Despite the peaceful late afternoon atmosphere, his mind churned with the plans they had made, the materials they had gathered, and the anticipation of what lay ahead. Rhea had been very clear—after such a long day, rest was essential if they wanted to craft the wand properly.

But resting wasn't easy when he buzzed with excitement and a hint of fear. Tomorrow, he would receive his first real focus in either life, finally graduating from poorly made blood constructs and roughly cut gems. Those were hardly worth the effort, and given the ease of casting he had experienced so far, he hadn’t felt the need to create them. But this wand promised to be so much greater.

Nick had promised Rhea that he wouldn't experiment or train tonight, though it had taken some persuading. She had even made him swear to focus on replenishing his mana reserves, something he seldom did with any urgency. Still, he had agreed. The crafting would depend on him tomorrow, as Elia's mana was far too attuned to fire, and Rhea would be directing the process from the outside, lacking the necessary direct mana skills.

None of them would be able to craft it independently, but hopefully, they would manage it together.

When Nick pushed open the door to his house, he was met with a chaotic mess.

"Where is it? I know I packed it!" Devon's exasperated voice echoed from the sitting room.

Elena's amused tone followed. "You mean the journal you left on the kitchen counter this morning? Or are we talking about the socks I told you to pack days ago?"

Nick leaned in the doorway, taking in the scene. His older brother was up to his elbows in a travel bag, pulling out items and tossing them into haphazard piles on the floor. Their mother was perched on the arm of the sofa, smiling impishly as she tossed a small journal back and forth between her hands. Their father was near the hearth, his arms crossed as he surveyed the chaos with a long-suffering expression.

"Nick, perfect timing," Eugene said, spotting him. "Help your brother get his act together. He's leaving in a few days, and if we don't find his last few things, we'll have to throw him on the caravan half-packed."

"Hey, I'm mostly packed and still have time. I just didn’t expect them to arrive so early!” Devon protested, though his frantic digging said otherwise.

"Are you saying you want to spend your last few days here rather than gallivanting around town?" Elena asked rhetorically, earning a groan.

Nick chuckled, dropping his bag by the door. "What are we looking for?"

"Apparently, my boots decided to disappear," Devon grumbled. "The ones with the reinforced soles. You'd think they grew legs and walked off."

"Or maybe you left them by the outhouse again," Elena quipped, tossing the journal into Devon's bag.

Nick rolled his eyes and headed out, where he quickly found the missing boots exactly where their mother had guessed they would be. When he returned, the sitting room was even more messy, with clothes and gear strewn everywhere. Yet there was an energy to it that Nick couldn't help but enjoy—a kind of frenzied camaraderie that only their family could pull off.

Dinner that evening was loud and lively. Nick mercilessly teased Devon about having to abandon his “conquests” while his brother pretended to be above it all. Their parents basked in the chatter. For a little while, Nick forgot about tomorrow's task, lost in the warmth of home.

As the plates were cleared and the fire crackled softly, Eugene suddenly called for their attention. "Nick, Devon, hold on a moment. There's something I want to share with you."

Devon groaned dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "Is this about taking responsibility? Because I already had the talk with Mom."

"No," Eugene replied, and something in his tone stopped the boys. "This is about our family. And it's something I've been waiting to tell you both until you were old enough to understand."

Nick raised an eyebrow in curiosity. It wasn't often that their father spoke like this—serious, almost solemn. He exchanged a glance with Devon, who arched a brow back. Shrugging, the two followed Eugene into the living room, where he gestured for them to sit near the hearth.

Their mother went to sit on the couch, smiling in pride. She, too, evidently thought they were grown enough.

Once they were settled, Eugene leaned back in his chair and stared into the fire for a long moment. The flames cast flickering shadows across his face, making him seem older and more weathered.

"I've wanted to tell you this since the monster wave hit the town," Eugene began, his voice steady yet tinged with something heavy. "When Floria's safety was threatened, it reminded me of why our family is here and the duty we took up generations ago."

Nick frowned. Although his father had mentioned a long family history several times, he had rarely provided specifics.

Devon crossed his arms. "I'm guessing this is the part where you tell us we're actually secret royalty or something?"

Eugene chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Not royalty. Nothing so grand.” He glanced between them, his gaze piercing. "This is a story about our family's role in keeping the Green Ocean at bay."

Nick's heart skipped a beat. Devon opened his mouth to respond, but Eugene held up a hand. "You'll hear the full story tonight," he said. "Because if something ever happens to me, you'll need to know. Both of you."

The room seemed to still. With the crackling fire as the only sound, Eugene began his tale.

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