“The… Aedolon?” I asked, brow furrowed.

“If it isn’t too much to ask. Could you open your helm?” The mage asked. “I dislike conversing with the faceless.” I shrugged, detaching the faceplate. He watched with interest. “Curious.”

“So, the Aedolon.” I prodded.

“The Aedolon is one of a set of magical weapons, created to wield the primal elements.” He explained, voice lowered just enough to be drowned out beyond our table. “The others have different names.” He listed them off. “Oquilon, Lesyron, Baelon and Naebon.” So water, wind, fire and earth? I thought to myself uncertainly, the words would be right for the language, but were just a little off.

“So what exactly did you want to ask about the Aedolon?” I prodded again.

“The Aedolon is the most dangerous of the set, it uses aether as its source, in theory it can destroy souls and disrupt magic in spectacular ways.” He elaborated. “That was the intent at least, it doesn’t discriminate as it draws from its surroundings. It kills its wielder by stripping their souls of aether, and everything within a five-foot radius suffers varying effects of weakness and nausea.”

[Oh boy.] Page said. We’d both come to the same conclusion. Did Frejr tell them? I wondered.

“As one of the most dangerous of the various artefacts, I need to know. Was it recovered?” He said. “If it wasn’t then more proactive measures will need to be taken.”

It took a while for my brain to catch up. “Uh, what did it look like?” I asked. “I don’t think we found any swords among the artefacts.”

“Really? The Aedolon is more of a sword hilt.” He explained, pulling his hands apart to illustrate its size. “When activated the swords siphon their element from the surroundings. The other swords can only sustain for a short time, so they have physical blades to make up for it, but the aether blade can sustain theoretically indefinitely, though there remains the problem that it kills whomever is using it and most people close to it.” He said, smiling ruefully.

“I… see.” I answered. “I’m fairly certain I saw such a thing, but it would be best to wait for Frejr and the others.”

He nodded. “Yes, that would be for the best. I will go to rest now. Good night.” He left the table, moving to rent a room from the innkeeper.

I gave a sigh, but was careful not to sag into the chair, instead leaning back to take another lazy sip from my drink. So they don’t know. I thought. A good thing I figure, they’d probably want to observe me or question why I was able to use the thing.

[The most probable interpretation of why is simply that you have no soul to siphon aether from, seems that it siphons even ‘activated’ aether then.] Page remarked, giving the mercurial substance an impromptu name.

Seems like it. I replied. It might also explain why it can work indefinitely. All the others would create other forms of magic that would prevent it from finding any more of the magic it uses, while the Aedolon simply produces a vacuum. I considered, watching as he made his way up.

I Delved, he was probably a mage like Qent, confirmed when suddenly the aether shifted, and split off into Earth. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, all I could do was lay back and wonder what he might bring tomorrow.

Two thumps on my door woke me up, and I Delved to see what I thought was Frejr’s soul alongside Qent’s. Can’t really be sure about just one of them, but two of them together lessens the chance of me screwing up, a lot. “What?” I called out, my head hurt a little, probably an aftereffect of my injuries. My feet settled heavily onto the floor, and I reached out to pull the door open.

Frejr stood at the door, and when I opened it Qent leaned in to take a look. Considering that I was still in my armour there wasn’t much they could see of my wounds. “Are you well enough to travel?” Frejr asked, looking me up and down and seeming to find something satisfactory.

“I can travel.” I said. “If pressed I can fight too.” I continued, to the slight dismay of Page. “What’s next?”

“We’ve gained another building over in Lrash.” She noted. “Some kind of thanks, again. We need to travel to the north, dragon sightings are increasing, they’re becoming more agitated, more likely to enter populated areas instead of staying in their own lands. We need to find out why.”

“Another building?” I asked, cocking my head. “Someone is here, ostensibly from the Tower, as I understand it the Tower is looking to repossess their artefacts. Can anyone confirm that?” I queried, looking to the pair.

“Yes.” Frejr nodded. “They notified me of his arrival, and I’ve met this particular agent before. We’ll also be bringing the mage we captured in the caves with us.”

“Right, I see.” I nodded. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

Qent seemed to shuffle a little, a certain light in his eyes, but he restrained himself, simply nodding. “Sure, you know which room the Tower agent is?” I pointed, and they both went to knock on the door. Well the only reason I know is because of Delving, but I can always attribute it to going up and seeing him enter his room.

I shut the door, replacing the weapons onto my person, and thinking. The Aedolon uses aether to form a blade. It draws it into the physical realm right? Then what kind of effect does that make? I thought to myself, knitting my eyebrows together. What does soulstuff even do in the material realm?

[Well when we used it I think it either killed the target or rendered them unconscious.]

I don’t know. That could just have been a result of bringing the sword hilt close enough to siphon aether from him. I replied. The only real way to test it would be to use it on ourselves… And that’s not really something I’m willing to entertain.

[We could also use it against inanimate objects like rocks, or logs of wood.]

I smiled a little. Yeah, I guess we could. Doesn’t matter too much though, since it’s going back anyway. I thought, adjusting the straps for the sword and pick at my belt, while I put the backup on my back. I stretched a little, wincing at the wounds yet to heal.

[You keep tearing yourself apart. Just because you can heal well doesn’t mean you should use it as an excuse not to rest or strain yourself at suboptimal capability.]

I shrugged internally, and it seemed to roll its eyes at me.

A few knocks sounded again on my door, and Qent stood there. “We need to escort him back, he’s got a cart and a few other agents, but he’d still prefer us going with him.” I nodded, stepping out of the room to follow him. We left a message telling Azarint’s group to wait for our return, asking the innkeeper to pass it to them if they came by.

I settled in on the cart, the magical artefacts covered by a tarp and placed between us, while the mage squirmed indignantly, some strange cuff preventing her from casting. Qent huddled down, wary about leaving his body exposed to enemy archers, while Frejr sat in the middle, a prominent target with her armour. Several others sat close by, spears and slings at the ready.

The beginning of the journey was quiet, focus reserved for watching the forest and trees for movement. I engaged Sense, closing my eyes to focus my search. Occasionally I would notice some of the guards turning to look at me, only to look away as I faced them.

[Your posture doesn’t exactly say alert, more like half-asleep.]

I rolled my eyes. The trees tended to filter my vision, and while I could apparently look a little around trees, I couldn’t see directly behind them, and it was a little distorted. It reminded me of waves, how they would refract around corners or through holes.

Something crossed into my bubble, streaking towards one of the guards. I darted forwards, pushing my hand out slanted to deflect the arrow away. It veered out, passing into the trees. I turned, drawing my sword as a few other arrows came down, putting myself between them and the guard.

The arrows not aimed at him found their mark in the other guards, pinning their arms or just sliding off the leather armour. The driver tried to exhort the mules dragging the cart, but quickly dodged as several arrows thudded into his seat. I leapt out, they were goblins, but something was off. I opened my eyes, and blinked in surprise.

[Metal armour?] Page said, bewildered.

I cursed, kicking the creature as I tossed the sword into the cart and drew my pick. The sword would be a liability against them, prone to breaking and simply deflecting off. The goblin snarled, my kick hadn’t shifted it much. The damn thing’s been trained for armour use. I frustratedly noted as a few others leapt out of hiding.

It swung its blade at me, and I denied it, stepping back out of its reach, close range would only favour it. I stomped on the blade of the next of to try a horizontal cut, and as its body was jerked downwards brought the pick down hard on the back of its skull. A crunch followed, and it crumpled.

A few arrows struck me, sliding off the plate on my back and my forearm. I resisted the urge to turn around, knowing that it was better for me to dispatch the ones in front of me. The goblin ahead of me struck a blow against my knee. Flat-footed as I was, it bit into the armour, stopping against the bone. I snarled, kicking it in the throat with the other foot.

As it clutched at its neck I swung the hammer bit at the last goblin to face me, pushing it back with the force I’d gained from the twist of the kick. The rest of the fight was short and swift, I grabbed the closer goblin and spiked it to death, while the other pounced onto me, grappling at me until I sunk my dagger into its skull from underneath.

I rolled to my feet, dispatching a few other goblins attacking the others with well-placed strikes to the back of their skulls. One of the guards was dead, his throat opened by a slash after they’d knocked him down. Frejr had had little problem with them, since they’d neglected to close enough to deny her reach advantage, several of them had been slammed into trees by the force of her swings.

Qent had taken out the archers, protecting himself with air magic. He stood at the ready, scanning the treeline for more goblins. I examined the corpses, sealing my armour as I went. The metal was well fitted, these were made and tailored for each and every one of them… I lifted one of their weapons, giving a few swings to test their balance.

The balance was almost flawless, and even the slight imbalance could be caused by differences in physiology. I frowned, flipping the blade to catch it by the handle. “Think these goblins are the source of the lost caravans we’ve been hearing about that we can’t attribute to bandits?” I asked, taking the scabbard from the goblin and sheathing the sword.

Frejr considered the question, kneeling by the corpse of the archers, and looking through their gear. Their arrows carried the same professionalism, though their bows were already well crafted even in previous encounters. She sighed, nodding. “We never seem to run out of work to do.”

I nodded, nudging the corpses once more with my boot before I limped away.