They find Ogostinia once again waiting by the mound of dirt, gazing up at the sunless sky. She nods to them briefly, not commenting on their punctuality though her nostrils flare as they arrive. That displeasure may have more to do with the results, Ariel soon discovers. “I think it went tremendously!” exclaims Salaya, running her hands over the knee-high clumps of grass sprouting from the desiccated earth like green hope. “It's thick, too. I've never seen grass grow like this.”

“Only a partial success.” Ogostinia gestures to the blue of the desolation, hope's end. “The grass stops growing right at the border.”

“So the villagers hadn't found a way to terraform the desolation.” Eje pulls a tuft of grass out of its sheath and chews thoughtfully on the soft end.

“We can't say that yet.” says Ogostinia, taking a notebook from her pocket. “This is only an initial experiment. What I can conclude is that the areas I enchanted,” she gestures to the grass so thick Ariel can't see the ground beneath it, “grew grass and the areas I didn't,” she gestures to barren brown earth, “remain unchanged. Furthermore, all grass planted in the desolation failed with or without our magical affectation. The next step is to try stronger reagents.”

“What exactly do the reagents do?” asks Eje, waving her chewed stalk of grass like a sword. “I thought it was just a way to help the caster find focus.”

“Partially true, yes. Without them I wouldn't know where the focus is required. But channelling through a reagent also imparts some of that reagents form and power to the magic. With strong enough reagents, anything is possible. I'm going to ask you to borrow that book. I need to study it. In exchange, I'll give you this.” She holds out the notebook. Ariel takes it; only a single page has been written in.

“Do these reagents even exist?”

“I hope so. We'll need better seeds too. This bunch-grass is a newer strain, full of potential but unrefined. My job will be to breed it and select for some hardier traits. Yours will be to find the reagents. Celestial tears are probably more mythological than factual, but there are so many old records that swear by them...well, if you find any celestials, make them cry.” She smiles. Did she just make a joke? “Firegems are next.” Ogostinia's face snaps back to sternness. “The one you gave me was a lovely yellow. I need other colours though. Red, white. Green if you can find any. Your colour mage will be able to tell you the significance of having different colours.” Salaya nods. “Preserved life. I have something specific in mind. Something ancient. Stone life they call it. Living beings but in the form of stone, unearthed from ancient quarries.”

“But that can only be found in the royal palace.” protests Salaya.

“There are reports of stone life being dug up in other places, held in other nations. Wealthy collectors are always looking to buy any. What matters is that we get some. Reports of it used as a reagent are promising, to say the least.”

“How can we acquire something so rare and guarded?”

Ogostinia shrugs. “The Royal Museum should have some extras they use for experimentation or holding. See if they'll sell you some; I can cover expenses but I ultimately don't need to know how you came by it. If you can't acquire it, we'll have to find some more amber. But there is a power in stone that most ignore. I would dearly like to test it, just this once.”

“We can get some.” says Eje. “We can go to private collectors if necessary. My parents know a few.”

“Good. Last thing.” Ariel winces. She's not looking forward to this. “You say orcs live in the desolation? Let's find out. I want the heart of an orc, as intact as possible.”

“That should be the easiest one.” Salaya checks her pack. “Let me find that tome now.”

“No.” Octave puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her arm. “The book stays with us.”

Ogostinia raises an eyebrow. “I'm not going to steal it.”

“I'm sure you won't. But can you prevent it from being stolen?”

“Is that something you're worried about?” Ariel is sceptical too, but there's a decisiveness in Octave's voice that so rarely comes up. She can't argue with it. Neither can Salaya. Even Eje hangs her head and avoid's Octave's eyes. “Fine.” Ogostinia raises her hands in defeat. “I won't argue with my mercenaries. Let me read it here and take notes.”

They reenter Elikid with a new sense of direction. Ogostinia leaves with a curt nod, telling them she'll be in contact presently. “Do you think we pissed her off?” wonders Eje.

“I guess keeping the book guarantees she'll have to keep working with us.” says Ariel.

“I'm just looking forward to taking part in this.” says Salaya, her smile wide as ever. “This is the leading edge of magic. And we're helping! I wonder if Ogostinia will give us a reference for the Mage Guild if it goes well.”

“The leading edge of magic.” Eje rolls her eyes. “And it's just growing some grass in the ground. Hey, where are you going, Octave? Leaving us for another little trip of yours?”

“No, I just need to clear my head. I'll meet you back at the relay station when you're ready to leave.”

Octave wanders down the dirt streets of Elikid. It would be easier to appear casual if there were things of interest to look at in this town that travellers skip in hopes of finding something better down the road. She examines a crooked signpost informing her the mayor's office is a block away as she sidles up to The Grand Elikid Bar, her back to the window. No birds swoop beneath the grey clouds. A quick turn and she's inside. Past a full table where cards and coins hit the table simultaneously, over a man lying on his face, between a pair of swaying ogre bouncers. She stops at a table with a single occupant, head down.

Octave sits opposite. “You've sunk to new lows, hiding in here.”

Tal raises her head. “Thank goodness you've arrived. Do you have any idea how long I've been sitting here pretending to drink this poison they call wine?”

“Two days, I hope. Your obsession with me is revolting.”

“You say that.” Tal takes a sip and shudders. “But you can't hide a smile when you do. And –”

“I smile when I think pleasurable thoughts. Right now I'm thinking of leaving and never seeing you again.”

“– the more you talk to me, the more you smile. There's honey in your eyes.”

“And ice in my heart, you overshod wastrel. The more I talk to you, the more I remember we must know suffering to comprehend joy.” A waiter stops by and Tal orders another glass of wine. Once he leaves, Octave continues. “This is your project, isn't it? The scar? You've caused the desolation to spring up here, you lunatic. Is this town part of your experiment?”

“It's expendable. Do bumpkins here appeal to you so much?” They pause again as the waiter brings Octave her wine. Tal hands him a few coins without looking up. “But stop being petulant. You know full well that wasn't intentional. We were only studying.”

“So now intentions matter to you? Not just actions and their results?”

Tal raises her glass then sets it down with a clink. “Fine, I'll apologise. It was a bad mistake. We were fools. We don't know how to fix it. Is that why you're here with that plant woman?”

Octave takes a sip of her wine and shudders. “She's trying to fix your mistake, yes.”

“I suppose I'll let her live then. Now. Speaking of mistakes, your little mishap with the wings and the flying. How about that?”

“Are you here to cover up your miscalculations, or to reprimand me?”

“You're infamous.” hisses Tal, leaning over the table. “Everyone in Lakeview is gossiping about the mercenary woman with wings.”

“I haven't noticed.”

“And it's spreading.” Tal's knuckles clench. “A travelling merchant arrived in Salkrit last night. From Stonewatch. Ever hear of that miserable pisshole? Now there's a city that could use some desolating. He went straight to the bar and started telling everyone about a demon woman from Lakeview who killed one of their best mages.” Octave leans back, arms crossed, her smile now deliberate. “Nothing to say now? No justification? No, don't try to talk your way out. As you were so quick to say, intentions don't matter. Your own teammates are a dagger's point from turning on you.”

“I doubt that.”

“Naive fool.” Tal draws back, her voice losing its acid with a weary sigh. “Well, who knows. Maybe you have found true friendship at last. It doesn't matter. The rest will turn on you, and then even your friends won't save you. People're already spreading the rumours, growing them, feeding them ever further. Demon woman, winged woman, winged murderess. That's how ordinary people think. Their minds are fragile and easily persuaded through repetition. And the people at Lakeview are ever-so ordinary.” Tal sneers, contemplating ordinary people and their fragile minds. “They'll come for you at some point. They'll hunt you. Hack you with swords and loose the dogs on your corpse. You're putting yourself at risk, and more importantly, me at risk by extension.”

Octave drains her glass. “That's a bad lie, even for you. Regardless of what happens, there's no reason to connect me to a faraway member of the council. You're safe behind your walls and you know it.” She stands up. “Your concern for me is touching, but I'll take care of myself as I always have. Go back to your fancy wine and sycophants.” She turns on her heel and walks out.