“Absolutely not.” Mar said with finality. He turned back to the door prying it open just enough to slip inside alone. He intended to slam the door shut in the woman’s face but she stuck her arm in the crack and pushed against him. Mar was surprised to find that she was easily prying the door open, despite him trying to push it closed. Either that beating had left him more weakened then he thought or this druid was far stronger then she appeared.

“Wait no… please!” the druid pleaded with Mar. He ignored her. “I have been searching for so long for the right soul. After so many years of carrying for this burden, my goddess has sent me a vision of someone I can pass it on to.”

“I told you, I’m not interested. Please go and scam someone else.”

“No! You need to listen to me!” The druid insisted.

“I’ll call the city guard.” Mar threatened. It was and idle threat though. The last time a guardsman had passed through this portion of the city he’d had to call in backup just to leave the neighborhood with his own skin intact. The nearest patrol was likely three blocks over. They’d never hear him yelling.

“I’m not completely ignorant of the ways of you city-folk.” The druid responded. “I know it is law here to provide whatever assistance you are able when a user of magic asks. I call upon that law now.”

“That law is an ancient tradition the mage families instituted to ensure their superior status and to let all outsiders know that Orlem is a city built by mages, for mages. It holds little meaning to me.”

“Nonetheless, I must demand that you provide food, shelter, and listen to what I have to say.”

Mar glared at her for a long moment. “If you even are a mage, you could pull this same stunt at the gates of an estate belonging to any one of the established mage families. They’d happily leave you with a room and servants and give you all the food you can eat. All I can offer is cold porridge and a colder spot on the floor.”

“Nonetheless, I would ask you.”

“First I need proof that you’re really a mage, and not just someone dressed like a druid.”

The beastkin reached into a pouch at her hip and withdrew a single seed. She grasped it in her hand and hummed a wordless tune. Light peeked out from the corners of her fingertips and when she opened her hand the seed had sprouted. It continued to grow as Mar watched, and soon it had formed a tiny flower which wound around the druids finger like a ring. She plucked it off her hand and handed it to Mar.

“A satisfactory demonstration?” the druid questioned.

Mar nodded curtly in reply. He let out a slow sigh and released his grip on the door, which flew open under the force the beastkin exerted on it. He’d already spent the evening being stepped on by mages. Why not a his nights as well? He made no comment as he ascended the stairs off to his left up the many flights of stairs that lead to his room. The light echo of footsteps behind him confirmed that the druid had followed.

As soon as Mar opened the door to his tiny apartment, the druid began babbling out a torrent of words that Mar had little patients for.

“--And so you see, the message the goddess sent me is clear. The one I seek is close to a powerful mage by the name of Verona and she can…"

Mar tried to continue to ignore and whatever gibberish she was spouting, but she kept following him pleading her case. When Mar sat down with a bowl of cold stew to eat his dinner he heard her stomach rumble and he sighed.

He emptied half of his bowl into an empty one and passed it to her. She pointed to it in surprise, as if asking if it was really for her. Mar nodded.

“I’m Mar.”

“That’s a nice name. Short and to the point. So many people around here carry around long boring names that have no meaning and that I can never remember.”

“Well, it’s not my full name, it’s just a nickname. But I’ve been going by it for so long now that I don’t think I’ll even respond to anything else.”

They ate the soup in silence for a while.

“And your name?” Mar prodded gently.

She shrugged. “None of the animals in my grove can speak like we can, so they just call me whatever they want.”

“But what can I call you?”

“Yavin is a pretty name. I heard somebody call a girl that this morning.”

“Yavin it is then. I’ll take you to seen Verona tomorrow. But that’s all I’m promising. She can decide if she wants to introduce you to Darrik or not, because I’m certainly not going to.”

“Whose Darrik?” the Yavin mumbled around a mouthful of soup.

“Darrik Pyrastern. He’s Verona’s fiancé, and the future head of the Pyrastern family.”

“The Pyrastern family… I’ve heard of them before.”

“I’d bet you have. They’re a family of blood mages, and the largest supplier of mana capacitors in Orlem.” Mar replied, annoyed that he was being forced to talk about Darrik.

“Oh! He works with mana crystals then!? This is wonderful! He must truly be the one I’m seeking.” The druid clutched at a pouch dangling around her neck. It appeared to have been woven from strands of grass.

“Yes. Darrik’s amazing.” Mar said sarcastically. “Where are you staying? I’ll come get you in the morning.”

Yavin shrugged. “Where ever I can find a place to sleep.”

“You didn’t rent a room in an inn? I know of plenty of cheap ones that will only cost a few copper denarii.”

Yavin frowned. “I don’t have any copper. And none of those denarii either.”

“You’re broke then?” The woman showed no reaction. “Fine. You can sleep on the floor. I have some spare sheets that I have stowed away for winter. You can sleep on those.”

Mar stood up and walked to the corner, fetching his spare sheets. He turned to go towards his bed, which was just across the room in his tiny apartment, but she beat him to it.

“Or I can sleep on the floor…” Mar muttered grumpily

Mar rolled around on the uncomfortable surface for minutes, unable to find a comfortable position. He glared enviously at the girl he had let into his home, thinking not for the last time that he really should have just slammed that door on her.

Just when Mar was finally drifting off to sleep there was a loud thump from across the room from where Yavin slept, jarring Mar fully awake again. He sat up quietly, thinking the girl had gotten out of bed but frowned when he saw she was still sound asleep. Then there was a dull sound like a coin rolling across the floor on its edge. It the dim light from Mar’s one window he could saw the glimmer of something rolling towards him. It had fallen out of the druid’s pouch while she slept and had rolled across the floor towards Mar. That’s what the wild forest girl gets for making clothes herself instead of buying a proper shirt with real pockets.

Mar threw the sheets off himself and stood up, plucking the round object from the floor. It was disk shaped, like a coin, but it appeared to be made from some type of smooth gray stone, almost crystalline in appearance. What type though, Mar could hardly guess. It was broken on all faces, and appeared to be smooth like shattered obsidian, except for the color. It was clearly shaped from what had once been a larger chunk, the edges napped into what approximated a small round disk. Mar was surprised the rough edges had allowed it to roll as well as it had. Looking very closely at it, Mar could see tiny scratches in the surface in irregular patters. The remnants of what only could have been runes were visible from inside the stone itself, and when held up to the light it sparkled with tiny tunnels and channels visible throughout the surface of the stone. Was it enchanted then? It was clearly made to be magical in some capacity. Such things could be quite valuable if they did something useful.

Mar glanced over to the druid. She was clearly fast asleep. Mar briefly debated the ethics of messing with her belongings but decided she owed him for giving her food and a bed. The least she could do was satisfy his curiosity. Besides, if it was something valuable, why didn’t she keep it somewhere safer than a loose, poorly sewn pouch?

He steadied his breathing. This was the one piece of magic that he could do. The kind that everyone could learn to do with a bit of practice. After all, everyone has mana, it’s just actually using that mana that falls under the purview of mages. Most people would have to buy a mana capacitor for this, but Mar loathed to support Darrik Pyrastern or his family with his patronage. Focusing for just a second allowed Mar to access his mana well, surrounded by his aura. For anyone besides a mage this usually took at least an hour of meditation, but Mar had practiced as a child back when he still thought he had a chance at using magic. With pride, he noted that it only took him a minute to access his well, connecting it to the magic circuit in the little stone disk.

It was slippery for a moment, but then like a suckling baby pig the little disk latched on to his aura and began drawing mana eagerly. Mar panicked at first, and was about to rip the connection apart, but then the amount of mana being absorbed by the device slowed drastically until it was approximately on par with Mar’s own passive mana regeneration. It was barely a trickle of power, though still much more than a perpetually bound mana circuit would usually require. Mar knew that the only thing he had in the magical department that was above average was his passive mana regeneration rate, but this device was taking up mana at exactly the rate he was accumulating it. That meant most people using this device would be steadily losing mana. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to drop dead from the mana drain, Mar began examining the stone disk.

Mar picked up the disk and looked it over to see if it was doing anything. He didn’t see anything. Mar wasn’t deterred though. He was a scholar of magic! He wouldn’t let a little puzzle like this stop him! Well, a scholar of the history of magic, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t figure out what had to be a relatively simple magic circuit. It couldn’t be too complicated if a backwoods druid from outside of Orlem was carrying it around.

Mar peered into the stone for any sign of light or color. Nothing. He hefted it in his hand and sure enough it was the same weight. He sniffed it and felt its surface to see if it was warm to the touch, but it seemed identical to before he supplied power to hit. Maybe it was some sort of shielding enchantment? Mar waved his hand in front of him but felt no disturbance.

Now that certainly was strange. Mar had certainly been dumping an awful lot of power into this little rock for such a small device, but he’d seen no reaction whatsoever. This little grey rock seemed to have a complete lack of any magical properties, but if that were the case where was the mana going?

Mar was no mage but everything he had read indicated that mana couldn’t simply vanish. It couldn’t be created or destroyed, if you put mana into an enchantment it had to go somewhere. The trouble was, Mar couldn’t figure out what that somewhere was. Maybe it was some sort of mana storage device? Mar didn’t think that was very likely, especially considering the amount of money the Pyrastern family made from the production of mana capacitors, and create one of those was far more complicated than just inserting mana. You had to create opposing elements held adjacent to each other by a thin barrier. Also, the blood sacrifices needed to make them were quite nasty. Hence the reason the Pyrastern’s were also heavily involved in slave trading. Nobody complains if you use a slave for blood magic.

Just when Mar was about to give up, he heard a distant noise, like whispering but just out of reach.

Mar glanced around. There was no one.

Then he heard the whispering again. This time it sounded almost as if it was coming from nearby, just in front of him. In his hands in fact. Mar brought the stone up to his ear to try and listen closer. Now that he was looking, Mar could almost see a dim red light emanating from between his fingers. The whispering grew louder.

“Closer! Closer! Faster you stupid human! Just a little closer! Yes, that’s it! Now just hold still—”

Mar threw the stone across the room. What the infernal abyss was that?

The stone rolled and tumbled on its edge landing with a gentle thud just beside Mar’s bed.

Mar gazed at the stone thoughtfully. There was no red light visible now, and certainly no whispering voices. Maybe he wasn’t as wide awake as he thought. He should just lie down and go back to sleep. But for some reason that little round stone called to him. He wanted to pick it up again. He had definitely heard something.

Just when Mar was about to walk over and pick it up Yavin jerked awake. “Oh no!” She gasped with alarm, clutching at the handmade pouch she had around her neck. She opened it in panic, reaching her hand into it. “It’s gone!”

Mar pretend to have just been startled awake. He sat up and asked, “What’s wrong?”.

“It’s gone! The stone my mistress entrusted to me!” the druid looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

“Was it a little round gray crystal? Flat and circular like a stone? About the size of my thumbnail?”

The druid’s eyes snapped to Mar’s suspiciously.

Mar sighed exasperatedly, pretending he was still annoyed from being woken up.

“It’s on the ground on your right. I heard it fall out and it woke me up.” Mar said truthfully.

The druid looked down to her side from Mar’s bed. Sure enough the gray disk sat on the floor by her bed. The girl leapt out of bed and pounced on it.

“You naughty little thing! You’re getting bold with your seal weakening. Don’t worry though, we’ll have you sealed up again soon.” Yavin opened her pouch and dropped the stone inside, pulling a drawstring at the top of the bag tight and tying it off. Then she settled down to go back to sleep, her hands curled protectively over the bag.

Before she could fall asleep, Mar’s curiosity demanded he ask her about the stone. “What is that thing?” Mar ask nonchalantly.

“Oh this?” The druid asked nervously. “It’s just a trinket. More of a good luck charm really. Nothing special about it.”

Mar scoffed. “Even I won’t buy that lie. It’s some sort of artifact, isn’t it? Is it a communication stone? You know, those are incredibly valuable if you have a matching pair. I bet any one of Orlem’s Senators would pay you ten times it’s weight in gold even for just that one.”

The druid looked slightly horrified at the thought of selling the stone. “It’s not a communication’s stone. It’s not valuable at all really, quite the opposite. This little thing can get you into a lot more trouble than you would think. It’s my duty to guard it. Bring it to a safe place. I was told I could pass it off to someone in this city, but the goddess only gave me a vague impression of a person, not a name. But I really shouldn’t be talking about that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to steal it or anything.” Mar assured her. “True I’m not living in the Overhill district, but I’m not that desperate.”

The girl still looked uncertain, but Mar’s curiosity was peaked. It reminded him of something he read in a book he had translated for the private library of one of the members of the Low Senate.

“Is it some sort of spellstone?” Mar asked.

Yavin looked up. “Yes, it is. I’m surprised you know that word, since you’re not a mage.”

Mar nodded. “Not a mage, but I’ve been known to have an unhealthy interest in all things magical.”

“To answer your question, no it’s not a spellstone, but it’s based off one. I suppose if you’re really so curious I can tell you. You did feed me and open your home to me tonight, so I suppose I owe you. This is, as you guessed, an artifact, made by an ancient someone or something through means no living mage can either understand or replicate. It’s not a communication stone though, and it doesn’t do anything good. It’s a warlock’s totem.”

Mar’s eyes widened. “That means it’s…”

The girl nodded. “Yes. It holds a connection to an ancient, powerful, and malevolent spirit. And a pact can be made with it through this stone.” She held up the little gray disk.

“At the low price of your immortal soul.” Mar muttered.

The girl smiled. “Exactly, which is why it is sealed. And why I’m watching over it. Have been ever since its previous guardian passed it on to me, and now it’s nearly time for me to pass it on to someone else. It’s still sealed for the time being though. If it wasn’t it would probably be casting spells to enslave us and bind us to its will. It’s a troublesome little thing, and I’ll be glad to be rid of it.”

“I’ve never seen a warlock’s totem before. I never realized they were so active. I thought it was just a tiny fragment of a much more powerful soul that can lend a bit of power to its wielder.” Mar asked.

The druid tapped her chin. “How much do you know of dungeon cores?”

“I know they’re valuable. Priceless heirlooms in fact. There isn’t anybody that doesn’t want to grow their own dungeon. Even a small one can produce more wealth in accumulated mana and natural enchantments then a goldmine of equivalent size. Bigger and better cores make bigger and better dungeons, which are obviously more valuable.”

She nodded. “So, you know of them but do you know what they’re really used for? About how they’re made?”

“No, I thought they just formed naturally wherever mana accumulates?” Mar replied curiously.

Yavin snorted. “That’s the story they tell the ignorant masses just so every two-bit mage doesn’t try to make their own dungeon core. Magic crystals can form naturally where ever there is both ki and mana of the same element brushing against each other. What makes a dungeon core special is that it has a spirit or soul fragment trapped inside of it. Usually the ones artificially made by mages for specific purposes.”

“What kind of spirit?” Mar asked suspiciously.

“Most only have a plant or insect spirit. That’s what your usual dungeon core has in it. Some though can have more potent spirits in them. Wolves, eagles, cats, snakes, goblins, sometimes even humans, dwarves, or elves.

Mar grunted as his suspicions were affirmed. “What’s the point of using a sentient spirit for a dungeon core?”

“A good question. It doesn’t make the dungeon itself more powerful, but it does make it a great deal more cunning. It’s able to store much more information and act according to long-term plans and goals. This isn’t ideal for things like your typical adventurer’s dungeon where you’re just looking to kill monsters and gather riches, but for something more useful, like a mage’s spellstone, it’s invaluable. A spellstone made with an insect spirit will have a memory for spells vastly inferior to one made using a fox spirit.”

“So how does this relate to that warlock’s totem you’ve got there?” Mar asked.

“Well, warlock’s totems are made from dungeon cores in a similar way that spellstones are. Except a spellstone can be bound entirely to its wielders will. With a warlock’s totem, the connection isn’t one sided. A warlock’s totem is the physical symbol of a pact between a person and something much more powerful. The warlock gains power, but at a cost. The other being —usually a demon or powerful elemental spirit— binds a tiny portion of its own soul into an empty dungeon core. It operates independently of the rest of the demon, and eventually merges with and devours the warlock’s soul. Many would-be warlocks think they can escape doom by discarding the totem before they’re devoured, but the relationship rarely works out in the warlock’s favor. Once in possession of a human body, and greater in power because of its newest meal, the demon soul fragment unleashes destruction all around it until it is either destroyed or finds a new soul to corrupt, eventually returning both the soul fragment and merged warlock’s soul to the demon itself, somewhere in the abyss.”

“Interesting, from a purely academic standpoint.” Mar replied. “I’ve never heard such detail about the nature of warlocks. They’re usually a very hushed up subject at the academy. I’m only a history student there though, so perhaps it’s something they only teach the mage students.”

Yavin gave a shallow smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t teach it at all. I’ve met mages from Orlem’s academy, and their very good, strictly from a spellcasting standpoint, but they know little of what they actually do. Still, I didn’t come here thinking they’ll be useless. You all basically live in a dungeon after all. It stands to reason that at least some people at the academy know a thing or two about dungeon cores.”

“What?” Mar asked with surprise. “Where’d you get that idea? That we live in a dungeon?”

She looked at Mar in surprise, then waved her arm around her. “This whole city is technically inside a dungeons domain. That’s how you have such powerful wards up, and what keeps all these mana-consuming devices running.”

“Oh, you must mean the Realmstone. That’s in the center of the city, but it’s not a dungeon core, it just runs the mana grid that powers most of the spells in the city and keeps the lights and transportation network running.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Sounds like a dungeon core to me.”

Mar paused to think about it. Sure enough, a giant floating stone in the middle of the city that controls the flow of mana throughout the city, creating and managing natural enchantments around the cities border. It certainly sounded like a dungeon core.

“You bring up an interesting point.” Mar noted. “The tournament is coming up soon. Maybe they’ll have the Realmstone out.”