The Aether in the storage room of Faros’ workshop, the new offices of Bordeaux Logistics, held a sense of loneliness. It was a vague feeling amidst others: love, a tall tree on a hill, family, the robustness of a wooden pillar, weariness. But the loneliness kept coming back. It was hard to maintain my concentration. The feeling of the place resonated with my own. I had to struggle not to lose myself in it, not to wallow in this familiar sensation. At times, the distinction between the workshop and myself became blurred. I felt like an old man, leaning his elbows on the counter of a bar, alone with his glass and watching the liquid swirl as he moves his hand. There was noise before but the bar is empty now. There is just me and my drink and the smell of sweat that has infiltrated the walls and the counter.

It happened twice and each time I had to escape the Aether. I could not stand it.

It was this aspect of the Aether that was the least understood by the Mages I had read. The way it seemed to take on the characteristics of the life occupying that space, the thoughts and feelings of the people in the cities but it also captured the sensations, for lack of a better word, of the animals and the plants living there if they were more prevalent. The first book I had read, the only one that Inrak had possessed about the Aether at first, Understanding the Aether, was an attempt by a Winory Archmage at enumerating and classifying the rules of this phenomenon: for example, how much time was needed before the Aether inside a house took on the characteristics of a family that had moved in?

The study was made more complex by the fact that everybody did not perceive the Aether in the same way. It was tinted by each person’s outlook and experience.

Experiments had been made. Mages had catalogued the feel of the Aether in multiple spots of the same forest and then they had burned or destroyed a few of them in various ways to study how the Aether would evolve. The main conclusion had been that further testing was needed.

It seemed clear to me that the sense I had of the Aether in Faros’ workshop came from the Carpenter’s life and feelings and was exacerbated by my own. I was however uncertain of what I should do about it, or whether I should even do anything. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to practise Aether Sensing but that difficulty would perhaps help me improve my Class faster. As for Faros, perhaps I didn’t need to do anything. Actively trying to involve myself in his personal life didn’t seem wise. If he wanted to talk, I would gladly hear him out and offer what advice or company I could.

I opened my eyes and let the Aether go after a while. Lying on the desk in front of me were my experiments of the day before. There was sawdust everywhere. I had enchanted my scraps until I was mentally drained before measuring everything I could think of. The results weren’t particularly convincing. I hadn’t found any major differences between the various materials that could not potentially be explained by small size or shape differences. I had made a quick detour this morning to see Gygg the Tailor and ask him about it, which I probably should have done sooner. His answer had been disappointing to hear. At my level, with the basic enchanting technique I used, I could not expect the specificities of each material’s relation to the Magic Imprinting rune to have a significant impact on my end product. My best bet was to find a type of cloth sturdy, reliable and cheap enough that it could be used for a few weeks before needing to be replaced. Flyssa was supposed to come back some time today to share the results of her search.

Before she did though, my very first customers showed up.

“Luc!” yelled Faros from behind the walls. “People for you!”

I got up and joined him in the workshop. Waiting there were Xyl and Tork, my two Messengers friends. The Bourok had dragged his cart inside and was holding a cloth-covered package.

“Hey guys,” I greeted them. “You got my message?”

“We did! Nice place!” exclaimed Xyl while flying to me to give me a high five.

“Hello Luc,” said Tork. “This is indeed a good location for a business. You are surrounded by renowned crafters.”

He approached and held out the package to me. “We thought this occasion deserved a gift.”

“Thank you! That’s very nice of you.”

Under the cloth was a closed jug. I looked up at them with a silent question.

“It’s ipio!” said Xyl. “We know you love it and we didn’t know what else to offer you.”

“I do like it,” I said, laughing. “Thank you very much. We should open it! Hey Faros, I’m borrowing your glasses.”

“’Course you are. Pour me one too while you’re at it.”

The Carpenter stopped what he was doing and joined us. They all introduced themselves while I struggled with the cork and served the drinks.

We shared a nice moment together. I had found these people mostly by chance and a combination of circumstances, and each one of them was of a different species with peculiarities that I was barely aware of. Yet they were all profoundly human. I felt lucky to have met them.

While Xyl and I caught up and talked about Bordeaux Logistics and our plans for the future, Faros assailed Tork with questions, mainly about his cart and how it had been made. I mentioned to the Bourok that Flyssa and I were interested in speaking with his kin to see if we might find an arrangement. He promised he would convey our message.

Afterwards, I renewed the Aether charge on Xyl’s backpack and Tork’s cart.

“We should celebrate properly your new company, Luc!” said Xyl before they left. “You’ve never been to a tavern with us. There are drinks and Bards and plenty of people. It’ll be great! This evening?”

“Well, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had a night out.”

“Yes! We’ll come by the bookshop to get you around dusk!”

Flyssa arrived maybe half an hour after they had left and cursed herself for missing an opportunity to meet and talk to a Bourok. I reassured her that I had asked Tork. I felt confident that we would have an answer soon. Collaboration was in both our interest and the Bouroks’.

Then we each reported the results of our research. My part went quickly: my experiments had mainly ended up teaching me that I was too low level for the materials to matter. Flyssa had been more successful. She had found two suppliers for half a dozen types of cloth that we could try out and she was in talks with a Blacksmith to produce a hand truck prototype, though it would be some time before that one was ready. She had also figured out a schedule with Louprak. Our first testing was to be done early in the morning three days from now.

The first sheets arrived in the afternoon. They were shaped like a simple square of about 3 meters a side. No handles or ways to close the sheet and make a sort of bag had been added but we could think about that once we chose a material.

Enchanting with the Magic Imprinting rune took more out of me than I had expected. Clearly, the size of the sheets was a factor. I had laid them on the ground in the workshop to make sure that they were flat while I enchanted them. I did not know if it made any difference, but at least they would all be done under the same conditions. I even levelled up while doing the fourth one.

*You have reached the level 9 of the Class Enchanter.*

As always, hearing Margaux’s voice made me pause for a moment. It was a reminder of the journey I still had to take. I never forgot of course. But when I was occupied like I had been today, sharing a drink with friends and then working on an important project, it was easy to lose myself in the present. It was easier at least, to look down at the ground instead of the mountain still so far away.

“You okay there?” asked Faros, tearing me out of my reverie.

“I am yeah. Thanks.”

I could feel his gaze on me as I got back to work, but he did not speak further and I was glad for the silence.

I finished the last sheet late in the afternoon. I refrained from charging any of them with Aether. It would not last long enough until the trial and it would just tire me out. I called it charging, or fuelling, because it was easier to visualize but the process was closer to forming a link between the object and the Aether. The rune allowed the linking to take place but those two magical actions were too divided, both in time and intent, to last together. What I needed to figure out was how to join the Aether to the rune while I was enchanting the object. This was the key to create a permanent link. I also needed to find out if too many Aether-linked objects in the same place would disrupt each other and if so, exactly how. The books I had read talked about some obvious conflicts, like putting a holding bag into another would just remove the enchantment from both, but I needed to know more before I started charging all the sheets. I would have to find the best way of storing them without undoing all my work.

But all of that would wait. I was tired and I had plans to visit a tavern, have a few drinks and maybe dance a little.

“I’m leaving, Faros. See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Luc. If you get too drunk tonight, I have some recipes that should help.”

“Oh thanks! Wait… Are they disgusting?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.”

“Figures. I’ll keep it in mind. Good night Faros.”

Xyl and Tork were talking with Inrak when I got back. Ana was with them. The Human Messenger stood on the side, looking embarrassed.

Inrak told us not to have too much fun with a grin that said that she would find it very amusing tomorrow if we did. Then we left for this tavern they wanted to show me. On the way, Ana’s body language made me stay back with her, a few steps behind the other two.

“Hey, Luc,” she said. “So… Sorry about the bath thing. I wanted to get my big break, you know? I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“I understand trying to make opportunities happen for yourself. But why did it have to involve me?”

“I don’t know… I saw Xyl and the Guard deliveries she got thanks to your magic and I thought maybe it could be me too, you know?”

I shook my head. I had seen this so many times back on Earth, it almost annoyed me more than the fact that she had revealed my Class to an unknown Schalass.

“The reason Xyl got those deliveries was because she worked hard for it. Sure, my magic helped some. But come on. Half again the size of her backpack is basically nothing. She ran herself ragged going to the outposts every day for weeks. She proved that she was dependable, that she could be trusted with more than the basic runs. That’s why she’s found good success. My magic was just the foot in the door. And even then, I think most of it was the confidence it gave her.”

Ana glanced at the back of her Pix friend in front of us. Then she looked down at the ground, seeming even more ashamed than before. We walked in silence for a while. I didn’t berate her. I saw no point in it. She was young, she had made a mistake. I sure had made my share of them when I was younger. That she had come to apologize at least showed decency and some courage.

“...Sorry,” she finally said.

“Who was that guy anyway? What was his name? Pias or something.”

“Piras. He’s an aide to one of the Duchess’ daughters. She’s an Adventurer.”

“Do you know what he wanted with me?”

“No… I mean, I’m not sure. Something to do with the palace I think, because he said something about the wards there, but I don’t know exactly.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I don’t know… I’m sorry. I don’t think so? He didn’t say much after we left. Thanked me and said he might be in touch, but I haven’t heard a word since.”

“Well, let’s hope he stays away. I want nothing to do with the Duchess’ succession. I appreciate your apology, Ana, but I hope you realize I can’t just forgive you like that. This could have ended very differently.”

“Yeah, I know… I’m really sorry, Luc. I just thought it was my big opportunity, you know… I shouldn’t have brought you into it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” I paused for a moment, thinking. Did I want anything to do with her any more? She was Xyl’s friend. And she did apologize. Perhaps I could put her willingness to reconcile to good use.

“Though I might have something for you if you’re looking to make amends.”

She raised her head suddenly.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“There are a few magical experiments I want to do and I need a volunteer. And what do you know, maybe it’ll work and I’ll find something you can use in your job.”

“Wait, are you serious? You’d really work with me again?”

I shugged.

“Everybody makes mistakes. What matters is what you do after. Apologizing is a good first step. Come by Faros’ workshop in a few days if you want to take another one. It’s near the harbour. Xyl and Tork can show you. Think about it, yes?”

“I will, yes. Thank you, Luc.”

“Sure. Just don’t push me into the lion’s den again, please.”

We joined up with the others after. They pointedly did not say anything about our talk. Instead, Xyl took it upon herself to put everybody into a partying mood. She started singing alone in the middle of the street. It was awful, almost like a cat hissing and crying, but you couldn’t deny her energy. It certainly made us laugh and eased the tension a little. Still, I was glad that she stopped when we arrived at the tavern. Xyl may have many qualities, but the ability to carry a tune was not one of them.

The tavern was called The Wriggling Worm. A sign above the door depicted about what you would expect with a name like that, though with the setting sun, I could only distinguish the shape of the worm in question. You could hear the noise from the street. The door opened onto a scene that would not have looked out of place into any bar of Earth in a student city on a Thursday night. Weird species excluded, of course. But above the hubbub, the people talking and yelling over each other, I heard a sound that made me stop. There, standing in an alcove against the far wall, was a Bard playing a sort of big lute. He was a male Schalass wearing a big smile and a patchwork of colours and making music.

My companions noticed my turmoil.

“You okay, Luc?” asked Xyl, flittering in front of me and making me snap out of it.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said and looked back at the musician. “It’s just that I haven’t heard music for a long time. I had forgotten.”

“Is that it? Say no more! Tork! Do your thing!”

“On it!” rumbled the large Bourok. “Follow me.”

He carved a path through the crowd, making heavy use of his plated shoulders. We found a table right next to the Bard that suddenly emptied when Tork neared it. I felt a little bad about kicking out the people that were there, but it was hard to care. I was captivated by the music. Had I really missed it that much? I had not realized. Back home, I listened to it every day, hours on end. At the firm when I needed to focus on my work, at home when I cleaned or washed the dishes. When I ran or when I felt melancholic. Music had accompanied me everywhere and I had been brutally cut off. It was a small thing amidst all the others, but it did matter to me.

The musician played a simple folk tune, tapping with his foot and laughing with his voice while his fingers gently touched the strings. The song spoke of a farmer whose cattle kept escaping to go play with the monsters in the woods. Each morning he would lament his fate, thinking he had lost his livelihood and every evening the cattle would come back, all happy and alive and in great health. One day, drawn by the many questions that assailed him, he woke up early and followed his beasts in the forest. I did not hear what he found there because the entire tavern yelled the ending with the Bard and that made for very confusing lyrics but Tork explained to me later that the beasts were in fact the monsters and transformed with the sun. They ate the poor farmer, who had forgotten that curiosity was a normal flaw that one should make sure to temper.

I wasn’t sure I understood the moral of the story but at that point, I was too drunk to care. I had discovered a sort of vodka-like beverage and I was teaching my friends the many drinking games that college had instilled in me. We danced and partied for most of the night and I stumbled home in a gleeful daze. Inrak cackled like a happy witch when she saw me in the morning.