MHO Chapter 28! Time for some ‘star magic’!

-Llox

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For a fair chunk of the day, Kuna was practicing the magic he already knew, but at range. He took multiple breaks to eat and drink some water. Even with those breaks, he was beginning to feel the strain. Eventually, between him and Lykou, the waterskin was once again completely drained.

“We really need to see about working on that gourd so we have an extra thing for water,” Kuna said, slumping down against the side of the shelter to catch his breath.

“Yeah, but in the meantime, I’ll go get you some more,” Lykou said, reaching for the empty waterskin.

Kuna pulled it away and narrowed his eyes. “Not by yourself, you’re not,” he said, starting to stand back up.

“Ku, I’ll be fi-”

“Not risking it,” the sereva said firmly, walking over next to him.

The konuul sighed and embraced him. “You know you can’t watch out for me every minute of every day. There will be times when we’re separate for a bit. Doesn’t mean I won’t come back. I know yesterday was scary but-”

“That’s a fucking understatement,” Kuna replied, sniffing a bit as he tightly returned the hug.

“He has a point though, Kuna,” Inkari pointed out. “As frightening as that encounter was, you should be careful not to let fear overwhelm you again like it did in the past.”

The sereva sighed and remained silent for a minute, refusing to release the canid. Lykou stroked his back softly.

“If it helps, I can guarantee he’ll be safe for this trip, at least,” the witch assured them. “You won’t see so much as an angry chipmunk for a mile or two around here right now.”

“Oh?” Kuna asked, finally looking over to her.

“Why’s that?” Lykou added.

“Well, a rampaging ravager will tend to scare a lot of things off,” the jarzin replied. “And then there’s me. Nothing will enter the area without my permission.”

Lykou and Kuna exchanged a look. “Magic?” Lykou asked.

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” the jarzin said, taking another puff from her pipe with a glint in her eye.

The two eyed her for a moment, then Lykou gently squeezed Kuna, turning back to him. “See, I’ll be safe. You just sit down and rest up a bit. I’ll be back fast.”

The sereva still seemed very reluctant to let him go, but eventually sighed and loosened his grip. “Make sure to use your bracers, just to be extra safe.”

“Will do,” Lykou said as he pulled away, then ran his finger across the green bar on the side of one of the bracers. He then turned and walked through the treeline as his fur turned brown and woody. Kuna watched him go with an anxious expression, trying to resist the urge to follow after him.

Inkari walked over and placed a hand on the sereva’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Kuna,” she assured him.

He glanced back and forth between the witch and the woods, then sighed and turned to sit back down by the shelter. After sitting, he hugged his legs, trying to keep the paranoia at bay.

After a few minutes, the jarzin walked over and sat next to him. “Don’t let the demons back into your head, now,” she cautioned him, playfully rubbing his head.

Kuna looked up at her for a moment, then shook his head and sighed again. “We’d be dead if you hadn’t shown up. What if we’re not so lucky next time? Who knows what else we might run into on this trip...”

“It is a dangerous world, that much is certainly true,” the witch acknowledged. “But of all the things you might have encountered, it was just remarkably bad luck it was a ravager. And with those bracers and your combined skills, you both are more than capable of handling most challenges you’re likely to meet out there. And you’ll only get more capable as you learn and grow.”

“I guess…”

Inkari rubbed her chin thoughtfully for a minute. “It wouldn’t hurt for you two to get some extra tools for the trip, though,” she said. Suddenly, her hand shimmered with silvery-blue light and began turning transparent. She reached back, her hand slipping straight through the solid rock behind her. After a moment, she pulled her hand back out, holding the empty gourd from Kuna’s bag. It was similarly transparent and shimmering with light, although she quickly dismissed the magic, turning the gourd and her hand back to normal.

Kuna gawked at her. “W-what… kind of magic was that?”

“Advanced soul magic, primarily,” she answered, looking the gourd over.

“SOUL magic??” he asked incredulously.

“Mhmm. Or, as your people call it,” the witch said, grinning over at him. “’Star’ magic.”

The sereva’s stunned expression intensified. “Star magic is… is SOUL magic??”

“Indeed. And I’ll be teaching you the basics of that next. Although like I said, that little trick was advanced, so you won’t be learning anything near that level.”

Kuna’s eye twitched. “Still… soul magic?? Do I want to know why it’s called that?”

“Think about it for a minute. Life magic is performed using energy flowing into and through your body. But your body is just the mortal part of you. It would be awfully dull and empty without another very important something attached to it,” she explained. “And that needs energy, too.”

“I… never even thought about that,” the sereva said after a minute.

“Soul magic is unique. Unlike most other forms of mystical energy, it never enters the mortal world under normal circumstances. But its uses are not to be underestimated.”

“Like… navigation, right?” Kuna said, then suddenly smiled hopefully. “Is… is that how I’m going to guide us?”

“Yes. Although by itself, a lot of soul magic can be a bit tricky. Which is why many people use little trinkets like that,” she said, pointing to the medallion hanging around Kuna’s neck. The glow was notably fading. “To help focus it.”

“Wow. So, er… can you teach me to make these kinds of things?”

“In general, it’s a bit more involved. Besides being good at the right kind of magic, and depending on what sign you’re trying to use, you need the right kind of materials and tools. You can’t just doodle one in the ground and try to push energy into it, then expect it to work as intended.”

“Damn…”

“Having said that, there are… exceptions,” she explained. “There is a relatively simple trick to find existing signs out in the world, which you will learn after you first begin using soul magic. For now though, have yourself a snack and continue resting until Lykou comes back.”

Kuna sighed a bit, then picked up a carrot he’d brought out to munch on, and started snacking on it. As he ate, he watched Inkari examined the empty gourd for a minute. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to keep that thing from going bad, would you? We were hoping to turn it into another water container. But neither of us really knows how.”

The witch smirked. “I think I have an idea. I’ll show you when Lykou returns with some water.”

*****

A short time later, Lykou came walking back with a freshly-filled waterskin. As soon as he was near the campsite, he deactivated the bracers. Kuna hopped up and sprinted over to meet him, immediately wrapping his arms around him as soon as was within reach.

“Woah, hey!” the konuul said as he returned the hug, smiling in amusement. “I wasn’t gone that long, you know. I told you I’d be safe and fast.”

“I know, I just… well, you know,” Kuna replied, smiling sheepishly after pulling back again. “Can’t blame me for worrying.”

Lykou smirked and rubbed his head lightly, then offered him the waterskin in the other hand. “Thirsty?”

The sereva gratefully took the container and took a few sips, then turned to bring it over to Inkari, with Lykou following close behind. “So, you needed some water?”

“Yes, let me just,” the witch replied, then lifted her hand up as a deep blue aura surrounded it. Suddenly, a stream of water flowed out of the waterskin and up into the air, where it began forming into a wobbly, amorphous ball. Once it was big enough, the stream stopped and she brought the water closer and wiggled her fingers a bit. The water thickened into a yellow-brownish substance. The boys watched on in fascination.

“Just a bit of resin…” she murmured to herself as she began coating the inside and outside of the gourd with the substance. Once it was all used up, the aura on her hand changed to red, and suddenly a small ball of fire appeared, hovering over it. After a moment, it split into several smaller fireballs, which then began circling around the gourd as she held it up. A faint, mildly unpleasant smell filled the air as the resin dried in the heat. Eventually she rotated the gourd and allowed one of the balls of flame to slip inside for a few minutes.

Finally, she dismissed the fire magic, causing the fireballs to all vanish in a quick puff of smoke. The top had been sealed back on by the resin. She manifested some kind of unknown orange aura around her hand, which she then shaped into a sharp point of glimmering light. When she stabbed into the tip, it sizzled faintly and made a hole in the top. She looked around for a moment, then her hand turned green and a piece of bark from a nearby tree popped off and flew over to her hand. With some cutting and magical manipulation, she forged it into a cork, which she stuffed into the opening.

Finally, she dismissed the magic and held the finished container to the sereva. “There you go.”

“Wow,” Kuna said, taking the freshly-made jug and looking it over. “Thank you, Inkari!”

“How many kinds of magic do you know?” Lykou asked, staring at her in amazement.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, fluffy boy,” she responded with a smirk.

The konuul sighed and rolled his eyes slightly. “Yes, that’s why I asked. But I take it you’re not going to answer,” he said, then smirked. “Still though, thanks.”

“Have to keep some secrets, after all.”

“So… should we start the soul magic lesson now?” Kuna asked.

Lykou looked at the sereva with a startled expression. “Did you say soul magic??”

“Apparently that’s what ‘star’ magic really is,” Kuna explained, grinning a bit.

“Hmm. Not just yet. Practice what you already know a bit more,” the jarzin said, glancing up at the sky, which was just starting to clear a bit. “The reason your people called it star magic isn’t without merit. There’s a trick or two involving them that you’ll appreciate. And other things associated with night, as well.”

“Oh?” Kuna asked curiously. “Like what?”

“Dreams, for example. Sometimes, there’s more to them than you realize. And you can do things with them, too, though it takes practice.”

“What, doing magic in your sleep? That seems like it’d be… challenging.”

“It can be, at first. But it can help you in ways you won’t understand for a while. In any case, that’s a bit more advanced and best discovered on your own.”

“Oh, is it… related to that thing you did when we first met?”

“Oh yeah, he was telling me about that,” Lykou chimed in. “Some… astral-thing?”

Inkari smiled. “Yes. The astral realm is like a world within your own soul, and the birthplace of dreams,” she explained, then poked Kuna’s nose playfully with her pipe. “So if you were wondering if it was real, or a dream, the answer is yes.”

Kuna stared at her for a moment, then shivered a bit. “But… how? Was I physically there, or just mentally?”

“Mentally, and spiritually. Don’t try and fully understand it right now, though.”

Kuna took another sip of water, then got up. “Well, if we have to wait until sunset to start the next lesson, I guess I’ll get back to practicing.”

“Good idea. And feel free to get creative with it,” the witch encouraged him.

The group sat in relative silence for a bit, as the sereva practiced manipulating plants several yards away. Lykou watched him for a while before realizing he was yet again without a spear. He sighed and got up, walking to the treeline.

“Hey, where are you going now?” Kuna asked, pausing to approach him.

“Relax, I’m just looking for a suitable branch to start working on a new spear. I’ll be right where you can see me. Assuming I can find something suitable anyway…”

“Allow me,” Inkari said, walking over to join him. She looked between the nearby trees, then selected one and pointed to one of its branches with two fingers, glowing with an orange aura. With a quick motion, the branch was cleanly sliced off. She picked it up and, with a few more cutting motions, the smaller extra branches were removed. She then dismissed the aura and handed the wood over to the konuul with a smirk. “You can handle the final details, of course.”

“Wow, thanks,” the canid said, turning it over in his hand as he examined it and got a feel for its weight.

“What kind of magic is that anyway?” Kuna asked. “Usually I can vaguely feel when you’re using some kind of energy, even if only barely. But that one seems… different, somehow.”

“It doesn’t have a proper name. Some call it destruction magic, or chaos magic. It’s advanced and doesn’t use any kind of energy you’d be able to pick up on. Very few can effectively and safely wield it,” the witch answered with an unusually serious expression, walking back over to her sitting spot alongside Lykou. “Don’t try to figure it out on your own. If you think you’ve worked out how to do it, don’t. Mistakes can be… very bad.”

Kuna shivered a bit. “From the sound of it, I don’t think I’d even want to try.”

“Smart decision,” the witch said, smiling again. “Now back to practicing, Kuna.”

“Right,” the sereva said, then took a breath and resumed manipulating flowers.

Lykou sat back down and took out his knife, beginning work on the new spear. He occasionally shot glances over at Inkari, various thoughts running through his mind. Eventually, the jarzin picked up on it.

“Something on your mind?” she asked him with an arched brow.

The konuul eyed her silently for a moment. “Just… you. Trying to figure you out. I appreciate all the things you’ve done for us, but-”

“But the old ‘hounaka’ stories still have you worried, hmm?” she finished for him.

He sighed and nodded slightly. “I want to trust you, but I’m worried about where this is all going. And can’t help wondering, just… why?”

“My motives are complicated. As far as where it’s all going, well, as far as I’m concerned, Kuna’s got the rest of his last lesson tonight, then I’ll bid you two farewell tomorrow morning,” she said, shrugging. “I appreciate you bringing the Arbassla back and dealing with some pests on the mountain, even if you didn’t know you were doing me any favors there.”

“Wait, pests?” Lykou asked, raising a brow.

“The giant, and the golzogs. A few less problems for any would-be visitors seeking enlightenment, whatever form it may take.”

“Oh, right… wait, you didn’t-… did you somehow point the golzogs towards us?”

“I might have subtly nudged them your way, yes,” the witch replied with a smirk. “Yet again, I knew they were nothing you couldn’t handle. And it forced Kuna to confront some things, which is important.”

“...right,” the konuul responded, giving her a look. “I… guess that’s true.”

“You know I can hear you two,” Kuna reminded them, blushing slightly.

“And do you deny it?” Inkari asked.

“...no,” the sereva replied, folding his ears back and rubbing his arm.

The witch chuckled. “There’s really no shame in it. A bit of overconfidence is to be expected after your little… initiation. Better to confront it earlier rather than later.”

“Yeah, and besides, look what you’re capable of now,” Lykou pointed out, grinning at the sereva and pointing to the flowers. “Like I said, you don’t have to be a tough fighter to be impressive.”

Kuna smiled back at him bashfully, then went back to training.

*****

When the stars finally started coming out, Kuna flopped by the shelter and took another big sip of water. “After all that, I don’t know that I’ll have the strength for any more magic,” he complained.

“You will, trust me,” Inkari assured him. “Nothing I’m going to teach you will require much energy. One of the nice things about soul magic is that, outside of a few very advanced tricks, it’s usually pretty low-energy stuff.”

“That’s a relief,” Kuna said, then took a bite out of a peach.

Lykou brought over some wood that the witch had sent him to gather, putting together a second small firepit outside the shelter for them to use. “Excellent, thank you Lykou,” she said, igniting the wood with her magic after the konuul sat next to Kuna.

“No problem. Hey,” he said, pulling out his knife to look it over. “Something I meant to ask earlier. Is sunstone, er… magical? Kuna seems to think some people in my village might have some kind of magic involved with working with this stuff.”

“Metalworking in itself isn’t inherently magical, though it can certainly help to have some magical abilities. But the material itself does possess mystical qualities. Some latent fire and light essence, and if you can convince some kind of stone elemental to help out, it can be further purified and hardened once it’s forged.”

“Metal?” Lykou asked curiously.

Inkari chuckled. “A kind of thing found in the dirt alongside stone. Despite what you’ve named it, sunstone is not, in fact, stone. There are other kinds of metal out there as well, not all of them inherently magical, but only a few mortal tribes have learned how to work with it.”

“Huh,” the konuul said, looking over his knife some more. “That’s interesting… I wonder if we’ll ever find those others.”

“Just keep an eye out, opportunity likes to sneak up on you. There are also plenty of magical non-metal materials out there, too. And even if you’re not sure what to do with it, Kuna should be able to help detect it, especially after tonight’s lesson. Speaking of which,” she said, turning back to her student. “Are you ready to begin?”

The sereva took another sip of water, than handed the waterskin to Lykou. He took a deep breath and straightened up, then nodded. “How do I start?”

“Same as before. You need to get a feel for it. Soul energy is a bit more subtle and harder to grasp until you get used to dealing with it. Think back to your astral journey. Do you remember the sensation you felt at the end of that?”

“Y-yeah…?”

“Use that as a starting point. See if you can feel around inside yourself for something that reminds you of that.”

The sereva nodded again, then closed his eyes. Half an hour passed in tense silence before he finally perked up a bit. “Oh, I think I finally felt it…”

“Good. Grabbing hold will be a bit tricky, though. You’ll have better luck if you use a gentler touch.”

Another hour passed as he tried to mentally get a grip on the energy flowing through his soul. Finally he opened his eyes and sighed with exasperation. “You weren’t kidding, this is a lot trickier.”

“Hmm,” the witch replied, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I wonder if you’re not comfortable enough.”

“Huh? I feel fine,” Kuna said.

“Now, yes, but your body has all sorts of ways of subtly distracting you from interacting with soul energy. Until you first get a grip on it, you’d be surprised at how much of a difference small distractions make.”

Lykou suddenly grinned. “I have an idea,” he said, then pulled the startled sereva over into his lap as he leaned back against the shelter, at a comfortable distance from the fire.

“W-hey!” Kuna responded, giggling and blushing slightly. “You know, you can just use words sometimes, you don’t have to go tugging me around.”

“What’d be the fun in that?” the konuul asked playfully as he rested his head on top of the sereva’s.

“Excellent thinking, Lykou,” Inkari said with a knowing grin. “I have a feeling that will help significantly.”

Kuna’s ears folded down a bit as he settled into his friend’s arms. “I guess you are pretty comfortable, fluffy boy.”

The konuul chuckled and gave him a small squeeze. “Shush and try your magic now, cuddlebutt.”

After snickering and blushing a little at the name, Kuna took a breath and closed his eyes, searching for the feeling of the evasive soul energy. It took a short while, but eventually he started to get a grip on it. A pale blue light faded in and out around his hand. “H-hard to… keep a grip on,” he said, poking one eye open.

“You’ve got this, Ku,” the canid reassured him.

Finally, after a few moments, the glow grew brighter and more steady. He opened his other eye and grinned. “Wow… it feels… really nice, actually,” he said. “And suddenly… easier?”

“Soul energy is special. Like I said, getting that first grip is tricky, but it gets easy a lot quicker than others. Much like life energy, it has a bit of a mind of its own, and its wary of being gripped by the wrong individual. Once it realizes you’re not a demon or something, though, it relaxes.”

“Woah, this… energy stuff is alive?” Lykou asked in surprise.

“In a way, yes. Each kind has its own quirks and something that might loosely pass for personality, depending on how you look at it. But don’t get too hung up on the metaphor, it’s mostly just a way of explaining how they behave.”

“So, er… what do I do with it?”

“Well, you were interested in spirit signs. You can’t make one right now, but with this, you can find ones that already exist. Try drawing one you know in the dirt while you’ve still got a grip on it.”

Kuna looked down on the ground next to him, then reached down and sketched the symbol on their medallions.

“Good. Now try pushing some energy into it. Only takes a tiny bit.”

He did as instructed, and suddenly a pale blue light bolted up from the image, sending an ethereal line flowing through the air towards the medallion.

“Woah!” the sereva responded, slightly startled.

“Oh that’s cool!” Lykou said. “Hey, try that one we saw behind the waterfall!”

“Oh yeah, that, er… ‘door’ one,” Kuna replied, then cleared the previous drawing away. The light faded along with it, and he began drawing the other symbol. When he fed some energy into it, a new light lept up and pointed off towards the north, although it faded only a few feet away.

“I’m glad you brought that one up, because that’s how you’re going to find your way home,” Inkari revealed.

Both looked up at her with wide eyes. “It is??” Kuna asked quickly.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. The world has a lot of those things. Most of them are used by spirits and won’t necessarily take you anywhere you want to go. But there is an exception. Hidden all over the world are a series of ancient stone arches inscribed with those runes. They weren’t put there by spirits.”

“Who made them, then?” Lykou asked, fascinated.

“The Syltheans, long ago,” she replied, then waved a hand over the fire. The smoke and the light from the fire began to shift and form moving images as she spoke. “Back when they still roamed this world, they were more advanced than any mortal tribe. They frequently traveled far and wide, for various reasons. And they found that doing so was tedious by mundane means, so they built the arches to help speed things up. They left a lot of other things behind, too. Their ruins are littered with artifacts, like the Heart Wood bracers you found.”

The boys both looked at their bracers with renewed awe. “These… these were made by syltheans?”

“Indeed. Probably elnyr, if I had to guess. Perhaps one day when they return, you’ll get to meet them and compliment their workmanship,” she suggested with a grin.

“Wow,” Lykou said, beaming as he looked over the bracers some more. “I’m wearing armor made by people from another world…”

“The arches you mentioned, how will we know which ones will take us the right way?” Kuna asked.

“That’s the next important bit you need to learn. This will point you to the closest sign like the one you drew. But to get to a specific place, you’ll need to do something else. Try drawing a star, like this,” the witch instructed, making an eight-pointed star in the dirt. “Then, while focusing on where you want to go, imbue it.”

Kuna followed her directions, but nothing happened. “Um…”

“Perhaps there’s something missing. Where were you thinking of going, exactly?”

“To… er, Lykou’s village.”

“Our village,” the konuul reminded him.

“Ah, but have you been there before?” the jarzin pointed out.

“Oh… n-no.”

“Lykou, take his other hand. You will need to help him with this. Close your eyes and focus on your home. Kuna, when you’re directing the energy, try and have it flow through him along the way to the destination.”

Kuna took another breath and did as she said. Lykou suddenly shivered as, for the first time, he could consciously feel the flow of energy, even if only faintly. “Woah...”

This time, the light bolted up into the sky and jumped between stars, leaving a trail behind as it raced off into the distance in a different direction, out of sight.

“Is… is that the way home?” the konuul asked with a hopeful expression.

“Technically yes, but before you go getting excited, there’s no telling how far away it is from here,” Inkari pointed out. “And it won’t take the arches into consideration if you want to get there faster. So now, Kuna… combine them.”

“Huh? Combine them? How, exactly?”

“Draw the first sign, then the second, and have the energy flow through them in that order as well, connecting them.”

“Oh, right, that makes sense,” the sereva replied, then cleared the signs and started anew, causing the light between the stars to vanish. Again, the canid shivered and squeezed his hand slightly. This time, it took slightly more energy to imbue both signs. At first, the glow remained in the confines of the symbols, but finally they fused together and leapt into the sky just as the previous one did. The new path veered off in a new, third direction.

“And that’s the way you’ll take to get home.”

The tip of Lykou’s tail began swishing beside him as he squeezed the sereva in his lap. “Alright! We finally know where we’re going!”

“Er. I have a couple questions, though,” Kuna said.

“I’m sure you do. Ask away,” the jarzin replied.

“Well, first, can anyone else see that?” the sereva asked, pointing up towards the light path between the stars. “I’ve never seen lines like that in the sky before, but sure others have used this magic, right?”

“Only you and those near you when you cast this spell can see it. Anyone more than a few yards away won’t see a thing.”

“Cast? Spell?”

“Technically, when you perform magic that is more complex than imbuing magic into something, particularly if involves signs, incantations, or rituals, it’s called casting a spell,” the witch explained, then held up a hand to wave off the followup question. “Incantations and rituals are beyond tonight’s lesson, but I’m sure you’ll encounter them on your own at some point. They get a bit… complicated.”

“Okay, but back to the star-thing- is there a way to do this during the day?”

“Yes, although you’ll have to use a third symbol,” she explained, then sketched something in the ground. It looked like a series of concentric rings, with the center-most one being composed of a series of dots rather than a solid line. “This sign represents the self. Try combining the three now.”

Kuna did as he was told, and after a moment, once the light again bolted into the sky and raced off into the distance, he jumped slightly as he felt a new sensation. Somehow, he innately felt the direction he would need to go. “Woah, I can feel it!”

“I can too!” Lykou chimed in. “That’s so weird…”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too surprising. The spell is linked to you as well, after all.”

Kuna grinned and looked up at the konuul. “Looks like we won’t be wandering aimlessly anymore.”

The canid’s tail, or the part of it not pinned behind him at least, became a blur next to him. “Fucking finally!” he said excitedly, his tears faintly tearing up as he squeezed the sereva again gently.

“One last thing, Kuna,” Inkari said. “You may notice it fades once you wipe away the signs or release the energy. There’s a way you can avoid that. While it’s still active, hold your hand up to the sky, over any part of the light’s path.”

The sereva held his hand up, then gasped when a miniature version of the light path appeared on the back of his hand. “Wow…”

“Now wipe it away and release the energy.”

He did so, and the image faded along with the light. The feeling was still there, but he felt it fading. Before he could say anything, the witch suddenly raised a hand with a violet aura around it and waved in their direction. A gust of air brushed the image in the dirt away.

“The next time you need to be reminded of the path, simply grab hold of the energy again, and it will come back. Note that if you cast this spell for any other sign or destination, that will be replaced. And to dismiss it completely, simply will it so while holding onto that energy.”

Kuna immediately manifested the magic again to confirm the jarzin’s words, and grinned when the symbol flashed again on the back of his hand. His other hand squeezed Lykou’s gently. “We’re finally going to get y-… us, home, Lykou,” he said with a smile.

“Fuck yeah, we are,” the canid replied, squeezing him again.

“Congratulations, navigator,” Inkari said, smiling and tipping her hat to the sereva. “May your further explorations in the world of magic be wondrous and fulfilling.”

“So… does this mean you’re leaving? We won’t see you anymore?” Lykou asked curiously.

“I wouldn’t say that. For one thing, you two need to be well rested before you head off, and at the moment, I have no desire to go back to dealing with spirit drama over that tree. So I’ll keep watch over you two for one more night, and see you off in the morning.”

“Thank you, Inkari,” Kuna said, smiling. “For that, and for teaching me.”

“No problem, kid. You’ve been an excellent student, and one day I imagine you’ll be passing these lessons on to another lucky soul. Or ten, who knows,” she replied with a wink. “Either way, I know you’ll both do great things.”

“Heh, I’ll just be happy to get home. If we’re lucky, it’ll only be one or two of those arch-things to get us near home.”

“As homesick as you are, Lykou, I know you’ll be just as happy having a few more adventures on the way home, too,” the witch said.

“What makes you say that? I think I’m starting to get ‘adventure’d out,” the konuul replied with a smirk.

“Can’t lie to me, silly boy,” Inkari replied, suddenly manifesting the indigo glow and second pair of eyes again, startling both boys. “I can see right through it.”

“What th-”

“Oh yeah, I was going to ask about that,” Kuna chimed in, then briefly looked up to the konuul. “She looked like that when she first showed up to save us,” he explained, then turned back to the witch. “What, er… is that?”

“Omni-sight. A combination of eight different kinds of sight,” the witch replied. “And, among other things, it includes soul-sight.”

“R-right, I uh… forgot you could do that,” Kuna said, wide-eyed. “So it’s not just spirits, then?”

“Soul sight?” Lykou asked, somewhat anxiously. “That what I think it is?”

“Yeah, that things spirits can do, and… I guess jarzin, too?”

“Normal soul-sight gets you the surface. But only elder jarzin and moderately powerful spirits master omni-sight. This can go much, much deeper than surface level, if I want to,” the witch said, narrowing her eyes with a borderline predatory smirk, though she dismissed the magic effect after a moment.

Lykou shivered. “Every time I start to like you, you creep me right the fuck out again.”

Inkari snickered. “I do have a reputation to uphold,” she said, then stood up and adjusted her hat. “You two should get some rest. You’ve got traveling to do tomorrow.”

Kuna yawned and stretched. “Sounds good to me.”

“Yeah, you’ve kept pretty busy today, haven’t you?” Lykou remarked, rubbing the sereva’s arm lightly.

“Yup,” Kuna said, getting up to head inside. “Goodnight, Inkari. Thanks again, for everything.”

The canid was less sleepy than his companion, and knew he’d find it somewhat harder to sleep due to excitement, but he also knew the sereva would sleep better with him there, so he got up to follow him inside. “Yeah, thank you,” he repeated to the jarzin.

“You’re both quite welcome. Sweet dreams, you two,” the witch said, leaning back against the outside of the shelter as they went inside.