The night passed quickly, though my sleep was both uncomfortable and fitful. However, my defensive wards were not triggered. The defensive wards were a combination of alarm, illusion and compulsion warding that made me as secure as I could be in the wilderness, something which I had taken care to learn once the abundance of monsters in the world became clear.
In the morning, I quickly got to testing.
I wouldn't be caught off guard again. That I had not properly researched dimeritium, the one metal with anti-magic properties, had been an egregious oversight on my part. Not that sourcing dimeritium in Aretuza would have been simple, but that was no excuse not to have done so.
"Eveagh Aard," I pronounced carefully, performing the accompanying gestures.
A carefully constrained blast of force emanated from my pointing right hand, moving quickly towards a tree with my newly acquired dagger embedded in it.
A second later, the blast hit and the tree splintered.
I turned my eyes to a very similarly shattered tree a few meters to the right.
"No difference," I muttered, before retrieving the dimeritium dagger from the tree's remains, carefully picking it up in one gloved hand. The sensation of dimeritium touching my flesh was unpleasant, to say the least. Luckily, I had packed a pair of black gloves. It felt rather uncomfortable even through the glove, but the knowledge of dimeritium's anti-magic properties was vital.
If one group of assassins had such equipment, then others would likely possess dimeritium as well.
The weapon was a bit banged up, but I didn't care too much. I quickly stuck it into another tree.
This time, I forewent both the gestures and the incantation of the Eveagh Aard spell. I called it a force blast in private, though it meant something akin to Immortal Mountain. That wasn't very descriptive though.
A much weaker blast of force exited my hand as I concentrated, gouging a part of the tree. Repetition on a daggerless tree provided a similar result.
In other words, I had been overcautious when I had cast Aine.
That was… annoying. It had been the correct decision at the time, yet knowing that I could have easily avoided being stabbed grated.
I had spent a lot of time practising Eveagh Aard precisely for a situation like the attack. Normally, I practised combat spells only to the point I could cast them without gestures. The opposite approach had some merit, as an incantation would let a knowledgeable opponent glean information about your attack, but I'd much rather for my tongue to be occupied during a fight than my hands and the issue could be largely mitigated by whispering the incantations.
A spell normally required three components for a successful casting: an incantation, a gesture, and concentration. However, only the last of these was truly necessary. A skilled enough sorceress could go without either of the previous two, but to cast purely with one's mind needed a lot of practice and a good understanding of the spell, or cheating through catalysts and the like. The former was usually more trouble than it was worth while the latter was too expensive for now. The resulting spell would usually be much weaker in any case.
I had made an exception for Eveagh Aard. The only situations where I wouldn't have time to incant would be when someone or something was already close, in which case blasting it away would always be a good move. Better still, the spell was quite simple, despite its potency. I doubt I could replicate the feat with Dhu Muire or spells of similar complexity in my lifetime.
Well, I'd know for next time. Dimeritium could not do much when it was not directly touching me or touching some of my more solid spells. I doubt it'd do anything against geokinesis or the like either.
Satisfied with my testing, I retrieved my dagger, stored it, and resumed my march.
A few hours later, I spotted the beginning of a village.
As I approached, I was noticed by a young girl playing on the porch of a house.
She was around ten years old, with brown hair done in a braid and freckles covering her face. She was also rather stupid as upon noticing me, she immediately got up and ran closer.
"Lady, lady, are you a magic woman?" She spoke immediately.
I frowned at her and opened my mouth to respond, but she spoke over, "You have a magic ring! Did you slay a dragon too, like Visenna?"
"First of all," I began, "This ring isn't magical. Second of all, dragons are intelligent beings. Slaying one would be murder."
Not that the inhabitants of this world cared much for such distinction. A monster was a monster, but as long as a non-humanoid did not harm others, I wouldn't see their killing as anything but a murder.
The girl was opening and closing her mouth rapidly when a bedraggled-looking woman nearly sprinted from her cottage to us.
"Please forgive Enna for whatever she said, honoured lady!"
I blinked. The middle-aged woman seemed sincere, which was a welcome surprise. In a rather remote village such as this, I had expected her to think I was trying to lure the girl into a cauldron or something. As for her address, well, I wasn't exactly dressed as a peasant.
"It is no matter, madam. Curiosity should be nourished," I replied graciously.
The woman breathed a sigh of relief, before her eyes flitted up and down my figure, "Are you… from the Circle, my lady?"
I tilted my head, "The Circle?"
She flushed, "Well, you look like a wizard. I wouldn't guess you are over eighteen! So I had assumed…"
I looked down at myself. I wore well-made travelling clothes along with a somewhat worn midnight blue cloak. I didn't think it looked particularly wizardly, though they certainly marked me as decently well-off. The rest of my appearance wasn't anything special either. Though it had taken Tissaia a while to convince me to grow it out, I now had shoulder-length hair, currently done in a ponytail, still in the same golden shade as my past life's. I had taken off my gloves, so the silver ring with the embedded blue glass was visible, but sorcerers were hardly the only ones who wore jewellery. Sorceresses did tend to look much younger than they were, though I was not one of those.
In fact, I had requested for the sorceresses of Aretuza to age me up, much to their bafflement. It was something I had given quite a bit of thought to, and with the nobility knowing enough about mages to understand that we were capable of altering our appearance, it had seemed like the right choice. If I had shown up in Cintra looking sixteen, they'd likely immediately conclude that I was vain. My professional reputation would be tarnished on the very first day of the job. If I insisted that to be my true age, I'd only make a fool of myself.
I was supposed to look a bit over twenty, but I'd take eighteen from a villager. Sun and hard work had a way of making people look older, so I'd hopefully look over twenty to a noble, a completely ordinary appearance for a sorceress.
Seeing me check myself, the woman spoke again, "Well, the suitcase and travelling alone, too. Klucz isn't as remote as it used to be, but we don't normally get lone travellers."
"Ah. You are correct in assuming that I possess the Gift. However, I'm a member of the Brotherhood, not of any Circles," I explained.
"I see, I see. Is there something you need, honoured lady? Our village would be happy to help, especially if you can heal young Radim, he's been wasting away with some sort of a cough," the woman continued," But where are my manners? I'm Matilda, honoured lady. Welcome to the Village of Klucz."
I glanced at the nearly vibrating child, barely held back by the iron grip of her likely mother. The unexpectedly friendly welcome made me paranoid, but I did need to buy a few things. However, I had no idea whether this small village even had what I needed.
I inclined my head towards her, "I am Tanya von Degurechaff, a graduate of Aretuza and a student of Tissaia de Vries. I would like to buy some travelling supplies, but I am afraid my talents lie outside the healing arts," I replied politely.
One might think that introducing myself would let anyone after me track me better, alas, travelling sorceresses were rare. That Matilda was perceptive enough to guess at my occupation was slightly unfortunate, but lone travelling women were hardly any more common in any case. It was still a risk, but a risk I had judged worth it for the opportunity to obtain camping supplies, especially since any pursuer would likely assume that I had continued on this route. I'd have to be more careful once I left the main road near the Trava River. If nothing else, leaving my name behind here would help the Brotherhood's investigators should I fail to arrive in Cintra.
Disappointment flickered through Matilda's eyes, but she masked it quickly.
The child wasn't nearly so disciplined, "Loser. Visenna could have done that."
Horror mixed with embarrassment coloured her mother's face, but I just snorted, "And who is this Visenna, little one?"
Completely oblivious to her mother's ire, the child happily continued, puffing out her chest, "The greatest magici-cian to ever live. She killed a dragon in the Gorge of Mice and the Warlock Fregenal to save our village ages ago!"
I frowned a little. The child was probably exaggerating as I couldn't see a reason why a dragon would care for a tucked-away village like this. Chances were, this Visenna just wanted some reagents while the villagers were perfectly happy with a 'monster' disappearing.
Well, that was the most pessimistic view. Much more likely that said dragon was one of the unintelligent draconids, a basilisk or the like. Or maybe it was just a made-up story, perhaps even something this Visenna helped circulate on her own. Thinking of made-up stories had me recall the sign I had seen yesterday.
"This reminds me," I spoke, "I saw a strange sign a day or so away from here, do you know anything about that?"
"Oh, that old thing?" Matilda replied with a pensive pause, "It's said that a bandit lord tried to kill the Druid Visenna there, but the connection escapes me. Visenna is a bit of a hero around here, so maintaining the sign became a tradition, even if no one remembers what it means by now."
How quaint.
Tired of learning of the local folklore, I inquired again, redirecting the conversation to my original purpose here, "Interesting. Would you mind directing me to someone who'd have some camping supplies I could buy?"
Matilda nodded and soon I found myself in the house of Misha the old hunter.
"I can sell you some of my old camping stuff," the old man spoke gruffly.
Parting with some of my recently acquired orens, I was made the proud new owner of an old tent, a bedroll, a canteen and a firestriker.
I didn't really need the latter two as I was capable of conjuring both water and fire, but having somewhere to store the water was welcome as was a mundane way of starting fires. Fire magic was… problematic. Fire spells supposedly weren't an issue, but the mental corruption associated with the element made me leery of them, though likely unnecessarily.
In the wake of the Type 95, I was not eager to have my mind tampered with again. I'd leave fire magic to others. Someone insane would probably pioneer a safe way to use it eventually.
After obtaining some directions from the locals I quickly departed the village in the direction of Duran-Orit, a ravine that led to the pass proper. The very energetic waving of the freckled child accompanied my departure. The friendly attitude of the locals crawled under my skin, as paradoxical as that was. Sorcerers dealt death with one hand and life with the other. We weren't supposed to be liked.
Visenna's mark, I supposed.