With the meeting over, the other rangers rose from their seats. Many strode out, heading to their duties with grim determination. A few huddled around their superiors. Almost all of them shot uneasy glances in Jake’s direction.

Cara put on a brave face, but it couldn’t hide the lines of worry or the way her foot wouldn’t stop tapping.

“You don’t have to come with me,” Jake said. He didn’t need a death on his conscience.

“I’m a Ranger.” She rose to her feet and forced a smile. “We keep the Forest safe. I couldn’t stop that dungeon spawn. You’re my best hope of making a difference.”

Was that the only reason? “Have you ever left the Forest?”

Her eyes lit up, and she shook her head. “No. It’ll all be new to me.”

Glad someone’s happy we have no idea what we’re walking into.

Most of the rangers had left, leaving the large hall feeling empty. Toward the center, Jeremy was talking to Elivala. It wasn’t surprising that he was upset, but the anger in his gestures was new.

“Shame Jeremy can’t come with us.”

Cara stiffened up and muttered under her breath in Wood Elvish before switching to Common. “He’ll bring us as far as he can. That’ll be several days for him to teach you more magic, at least.” The words were there, but she clearly didn’t think it was enough. “You pick things up quickly. You’ll manage.”

Jake nodded. He’d have to. “Can you sort out supplies, Cara?”

“Don’t worry about that. You should visit the library. I know you love your book learning; a few to study on the way would be good for you.”

“Good idea. Oh, and don’t forget to find someone to look after Nibbles.”

“I won’t. Go! Get what you need. I’ll sort out the supplies.”

Jake headed for the door. Just shy of escape, Elivala approached. Hadn’t she done enough already?

With a serene, almost insulting calmness, she gestured for him to follow. “Walk with me now.”

No matter how angry at her Jake was, she was the Keeper of the Tolabar Rangers. Though most had left, a few Lookouts remained in the meeting hall. Did Elivala not want to berate him in public, or was she waiting to gloat about finally getting rid of him? Either way, not following wasn’t an option.

She led him across the tree paths, saying nothing. The din of the rangers faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and occasional birdsong. Jake kept silent. Better to let her make the first move than give her more ammunition.

Elivala came to a stop beside a bench, grown from the tree itself. She sat and gestured for Jake to do the same. Even after he did, she remained quiet. Her controlled expression gave away nothing.

Was she angry that he’d hidden being a Hero? That, at least, would make sense, even if it might have saved his life. Or was it about Cara? She probably saw Jake as a bad influence, leading a young wood elf astray. Never mind that the wood elf in question was five times his age and impossible to lead anywhere she didn’t want to go.

Why didn’t Elivala say anything? If she wasn’t going to speak, why were they here?

When she finally spoke again, it was in Common. “I owe you an apology.”

Jake blinked and stared. Had she just apologized? No, technically not, but closer than had seemed possible. Did she feel remorse about screwing him over? It was a bit late for that.

“Several apologies, in fact. For a wood elf to wash themselves of someone in need is no small thing. I thought that would keep our people safe. I was wrong.”

“It’s fine.” It paid to be careful around those in power. “I would have done the same in your shoes.” Or worse.

Her eyebrow raised and her head tilted slightly. After a pause, she nodded and smiled. “Ah, in my position? I am glad you understand. I’m sorry that I could not secure more aid for your quest.”

Was that true, or was she playing him? Prowlers were promoted on ability, while Keeper was more of a political position. Everything she said had to be examined with that in mind. “We’ll manage.”

“No doubt.” She bowed her head briefly. “Still, I would like you to take this.”

She closed her thumb and forefinger around the middle finger of her other hand. Despite stopping just short of making contact, her fingertip bent back as if she had. She pulled a wooden ring off where none had been before, and presented it.

“It is a Ring of Return bound to the Great Forest,” she said. “Activate it, and it will teleport you and one other willing person, and all you are carrying, back to us.”

It slid on easily and fit perfectly, despite his fingers being larger than the Keepers’. “Thank you.” He held up his hand and examined the smooth bark surface of the ring. It radiated power, offering its magic up, almost asking to be activated. “Is it reusable?”

“Yes, though it would take a long time from your perspective to recharge. Do not hesitate to use it when required.”

“Can you see the ring?”

“You can make it invisible at will.” Elivala’s jaw almost imperceptibly tightened. “Keep it safe. We do not need more evil in our Forest.”

Jake connected with the ring in the same way he did with mana and willed it to turn invisible. It eagerly obliged and vanished. The pressure of the bark against his finger conflicted with seeing nothing around it. “That feels weird.” Weird, but full of potential. “Thank you, Elivala. This might well save both our lives.”

“Cara is a daughter of Tolabar, and dear to Jeremy. Keep her safe.”

“I will.” The question that came to mind seemed ungrateful. It didn’t need to be asked, but curiosity couldn’t be denied. “Why not give it to her?”

Elivala chuckled and relaxed into a smile. “I want it back when you’re done with it. Don’t lose it.”

“Thank you for your trust.” No matter how late. “The others, they believe I’ll fail, don’t they?”

The Keeper’s smile faded and her usual controlled expression returned. “If they did, you’ll prove them wrong.”

***

“Come on.” It was more pleading than reasoning by this point. “Anything you can get will help me.”

Reltan sighed. “What it is you ask is no small thing. Many of the books you are after are older than any in the village. They contain knowledge that is not held anywhere else in the Forest and, if lost, would be a blow felt by every generation from now until the end of time.”

That was pretty much what the librarian had said, too. Couldn’t they see the bigger picture? “They’d lend them to you, wouldn’t they?”

The indignant, fiery glare in response was unexpected, and a little alarming. From Cara, it would have been business as usual, a storm that would pass swiftly. Reltan, on the other hand, had always been steady and level-headed. If he was pushed too far, he might not come back around for a very long time.

“Jeremy is escorting us to the edge of the Forest,” Jake said. Keeping them indefinitely was clearly out of the question. It was time to lower expectations. “I can have him bring the books back with him. They won’t be gone for more than a couple of weeks, tops.”

Reltan glowered but didn’t say no. He teetered on the brink, caught between his irrepressible desire to help and the implicit deception of the plan. Heavy pounding filled Jake’s chest. Was he taking advantage of the old elf’s good nature? Maybe, but it was all for a good cause, and the books would be fine.

The books he’d asked for were full of information on archeology, languages, spells, history, and other knowledge that might be useful. The library only had a single book on spellcrafting, aimed at beginners, but even that would be a start.

“Besides, what good’s knowledge if the world ends first?” He had to see the logic in that.

The elf’s lips pressed together, and his shoulders sagged. “Fine, fine, I’ll get what I can. But they come back in the same condition they left.”

“Absolutely.” Hopefully.

***

Jake placed the last of the books into his pack. It didn’t get any less weird the way objects vanished when placed in there. They were still accessible, and still added to the pack’s mass, but it definitely wasn’t obeying Euclidean geometry. “You’re sure you want to come with me?”

Cara nodded. “I’m sure. It’s my world you’ve got a quest to save.”

“Right.” And I’m the one who can’t really die. “Supplies sorted?”

“Mostly. Jeremy’s procuring us some potions. He said to meet him down where you were last night.”

“Alright, I’ll go. And… thank you.”

Cara smiled and bowed her head. “I should be thanking you. Besides, you’d do the same for me.”

Would he? He hoped so.

***

Magical training was next on the list, with precious little time left. With a deadline looming, and the risk of dungeon spawn attacks greater than ever, this was the moment to decide where to spend his unallocated stat points, and then learn as much magic as possible.

Intelligence increased spell damage and made casting easier, so Jake spent three of his five points there. That increased his MP by 30, but nothing else on his sheet. Willpower, on the other hand, did nothing for most spells but increased almost everything else from HP to mana regeneration, including both Mental and Physical Resistance. He put both of the other two points there.

That equalized the two stats. Meaningless, but it came with a nice warm feeling, anyway. He’d considered putting points elsewhere, particularly Dexterity for faster movement, but he only had a limited time with Jeremy. Everything but magic could wait.

Discern Magic proved its worth time and again, and pushed his Perception up from level 2 to 3. The extra perk point went into Discern Magic. The significant improvement in seeing out how new spells worked, and thus replicating them, made it more than worth it.

The haphazard and seemingly random naming of the spells was frustrating. Presumably, they were the work of numerous Spellcrafters, without any sort of standard. Working out how to rename them was a small mercy. Besides renaming them into English, it allowed listing their magic type, form, and effect as well, making it easy to see at a glance what he had.

Casting spells leveled him once in each of the magic types he’d used. Level 1, at least, seemed to be simple to achieve. As soon as he’d managed to cast each spell once, Jeremy would move him along to the next one.

Jake slumped against a tree, drained to the core of his being. The orange-tinted sky informed him it was well past noon. Progress was fast, but time was running out. With his stat points spent, he had 270 maximum MP, but that didn’t last long at the pace driven by Jeremy. “Give me a moment.”

“Time is short,” Jeremy said, gesturing to the sun low in the sky.

“So when do you teach me to teleport?”

The question earned a growl, as expected. “Promise not to cast it and I can teach you it.”

“What good’s that to me?”

“Spellcrafters must know an effect before they can weave it.”

“They can’t discover them themselves?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Perhaps. I suspect it would be incredibly dangerous and difficult.”

“Alright,” Jake said. “I promise to start with easier teleport spells.”

“Good. Now watch carefully.”

***

“Enough,” Jeremy said. “I have duties to tie up before we leave. Practice as you wish, besides those last three. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“Thank you,” Jake said, to Jeremy’s rapidly departing back. Looking over his spell list, it was a wide selection with little overlap. Jake smiled. Gruff or not, the old elf had given Jake a wide array of types, forms, and effects for Spellcrafting, and he doubted that was accidental.

Firestarter (Fire, Projectile, Ignite)

Light Orb (Energy, Orb, Light)

Alarm (Telepathy, Area, Alert)

Calm Creature (Telepathy, Target, Affect)

Armor Self (Protection, Aegis, Armor)

Concussive Arrow (Force, Imbue, Stun)

Healing Hands (Life, Touch, Heal)

CAUTION Teleport (Portals, Self, Teleport)

CAUTION Blast Arrow (Force, Imbue-Sphere, Blast)

CAUTION Stunning Wave (Force, Wave, Stun)

CAUTION Storm (Energy, Orb, Lightning)

Jake cast Healing Hands on himself, removing the various burns and bruises from spells gone wrong. Having healing magic lessened the weight hanging over him. With the relatively high speed of mana recovery, it made natural health regeneration’s sloth-like speed irrelevant. One less thing to worry about.

All patched up, and Jeremy gone, Jake pulled the book on Spellcrafting out from his pack and settled down against a tree. It was time to see what his chosen profession—and everyone else’s concern—was about.

The book started with grave warnings about the dangers of Spellcrafting, stressing how even the slightest mistake could result in injury or death. One such risk was a mana vortex, the result of an uncontrolled spell causing a feedback loop. Such a vortex would disintegrate the caster and everyone in the vicinity.

More helpfully, the book went into detail about components, and their role in stabilizing spells. Skimming through it, more components resulted in a more stable spell less likely to go wrong. Only an incredibly talented caster, for instance, could use merely thought to cast a spell, and, even then, it would have to be far weaker than if they used more stabilizing components.

Spellcrafting skill increased 0 → 1!

It took a few more chapters to reach the actual mechanics of crafting a spell. It covered the basics of combining already known forms and effects. Some forms were simpler, such as imbuing a weapon with an effect, while others, particularly area of effect magic, were less stable.

The book explained that aspects (magical types, forms, and effects) would have to be learned from other casters. A sidebar suggested not letting them know you are a Spellcrafter before buying new spells, as that would attract a steeper price.

All the information was basic, very much aimed at a beginner. If Jake was going to make progress, he’d have to practice and discover on his own. If he started small, the risks would be minimal.

Where to start? Not fire—Jeremy would bury him alive for that. Something simple, like a light projectile. Casting the light orb spell had been trickier than many others, but the difficulty had been in the orb rather than the light itself. Jake focused on the Spellcrafter perks.

Stability (0/5): Increase the stability of crafted spells by 10% per level.

Efficiency (0/5): Decreases the mana cost of crafted spells by 10% per level.

Power (0/5): Increases the potency of crafted spells by 5% per level.

Speed (0/5): Decreases the cast time of crafted spells by 10% per level.

Durable (0/5): Increases the duration of crafted spells by 15% per level.

Cohesion (0/5): Cohesion penalty while crafting spells ignores one aspect per level.

They weren’t as powerful as the magic casting perks, but they would stack multiplicatively with them. The cohesion penalty was interesting; he’d have to investigate that at some point. More aspects than necessary would increase complexity, so regardless of how it worked, it seemed like a poor choice for a first perk. If the spells weren’t stable enough to cast, Spellcrafting would be useless. Jake put a point into Stability and started crafting a spell.

For a first spell, the choice of components was easy: both hands, mirrored casting, and a word to trigger the spell. An English word would be too mundane for casting, and his Latin was almost non-existent. That left Wood Elvish as the natural choice. Keeping it simple, he chose the word for light, “enmir.”

The basic knowledge of Spellcrafting flowed into Jake’s mind as if it had always been there. Unnerving as that was, it made the process simpler than expected. The projectile form was easy enough to take from the Firestarter spell, creating a very short list of forms known. He repeated the process for both the energy and light aspects of the Light Orb spell.

That left the harder task of assembling the spell in his mind. He closed his eyes and focused on tracing out the lines of magical energy, connecting the aspects as efficiently as possible. No matter what he tried, the aspects simply refused to be joined together.

Jake’s jaw clenched. Efficiency was always an important goal, but maybe not the right one here. Ignoring the hardening of his stomach, Jake connected the light and projectile aspects with a tangled, wasteful mess of magic. It took a few more attempts, and his chest hurt just thinking about how inefficient it was, but the two aspects finally connected and stabilized.

That left energy. Using the same chaotic techniques, he set about attaching the energy aspect. It took longer, with many more discarded attempts but, finally, he hooked it up to the light effect. The moment of triumph was rather ruined by the projectile form detaching itself and refusing to reconnect.

Jake sighed. He might actually have to read the fucking manual. The section on assembling spells had to have something useful. It did, an entire section that he had skimmed over on the topic.

Each aspect had its own requirements to be stable, and they varied from caster to caster. Only careful experimentation could reveal the rules that had to be satisfied. The more efficiently they were satisfied, the lower the mana cost of the spell.

Part puzzle, part optimization problem. Jake smiled. Both things he was good at. The more he read about assembling spells, the more similarities he found to writing code. Maybe his nearly finished degree wouldn’t be completely useless here.

Reassured that there was a pattern to find, he carefully returned the book to his pack and set about Spellcrafting with a newfound zeal and a methodical approach. The light and projectile aspects gave up their secrets easily, their demands fortunately not overly restrictive. Energy’s finicky needs took longer. Who would have thought a magical aspect could be so fussy?

It took an hour’s hard, mentally taxing work, testing and retesting every variable. Hopefully, after all that toil, he had the requirements for all three aspects nailed down correctly. His heart raced. This was it, the cusp of creating his first spell. Pent-up impatience pulsed through his veins, urging him to hurry up and craft it already.

He breathed deeply. It was worth taking his time and getting it right, not least with all the warnings everyone thought he needed. Tingling excitement buzzed through him, irrepressible and distracting.

Jake focused inward on a new spell, discarding his tests. He drew together the energy and light aspects, drawing out the lines of mana required to fit the pieces together. It would not be an efficient spell, but it didn’t need to be.

Energy connected to light. Projectile connected to both. The rules worked, and the spell remained stable. That didn’t mean the spell would work correctly, only that it was castable. Jake smirked. This was the equivalent of code compiling. Now he had to beta test it.

A knot tightened in his chest. Beta testing didn’t usually come with the risk of death. If it did, he’d have been dead a hundred times over already. He double-checked his work.

The spell hummed impatiently, longing to be known and used. It still wasn’t on his spell list yet. Was it not a real spell until he’d cast it?

Jake pulled himself to his feet and started walking. The spell was small, any damage would be limited, but he didn’t want to risk damaging the village’s precious books. Mild-mannered as he was, Reltan might actually murder him if they were destroyed. Possibly once for each book.

How far was far enough? For all the useless warnings, they’d been light on specifics. Twenty yards? Holding to the side of safety, Jake put fifty yards between the danger zone and Reltan’s precious books.

Confident that was enough, Jake drew on his mana. It responded eagerly, dancing to his control even as it pushed against its boundaries. The motions came easily, like knowledge known but long forgotten. The spell formed and demanded to be cast.

“Emnir!” He pushed forward with his hand and a streak of silvery light shot out, illuminating the forest. The bolt hit a tree and vanished, letting darkness close in again.

Spellcrafting skill increased 1 → 2!

Progress! Boring or not, stronger spells would always be useful. Jake put the new perk point into Power. What next? Something useful in combat. Definitely not fire. He’d already cracked energy and projectile aspects, so why not something close to that?

Determining the needs of the lightning aspect was quicker than the other three, and it didn’t take long to assemble a low-powered lightning projectile spell. All that remained was casting it.

Nearby was a clearing with a dip and an area of packed earth, presumably for magical target practice. He headed there, almost bouncing as he went. This was going to be good. Soon, he wouldn’t have to rely on bows and daggers anymore. He could put his high Intelligence to work and be a real mage.

In position, quivering, he drew on his mana. It flowed easily, pouring into the spell and filling it to the brim. He smiled. All that power, right at his fingertips. He pulled the threads of magic together to complete the spell.

It didn’t seal. Mana kept flowing, filling the spell beyond its limits.

Jake’s smile fled. Guiding it didn’t work. Coaxing it didn’t work. Forcing it didn’t work.

Every thread of mana he used to rein it in only added to the power swirling around him. Every attempt made it more powerful, more unwieldy, more impossible to control.

Fuck.

Jake cut off the mana, and with it, any hope of control.

White energy enveloped him. Searing pain ignited every inch of his skin.

The world went black.