April 1, 2025. Location: Western Wilderness near Kilrain, Scotland, then Fairy Sanctum. Memory Perspective: Robert MacCallum.
I leaned forward slightly, my shoulders tensing as I focused on Langston's unconscious form. My fingers twitched, and I activated the Analyze spell, a low hum filling the air as swirling light spiraled from my hands, surrounding him and casting shifting shadows across the rocky enclosure.
The spell settled, and layers of information unfolded before my eyes, details about Langston I hadn't expected. The sheer amount of raw skill and expertise this man carried hit me like a punch, all of it honed in science and engineering. "Hmm," I murmured, my brow furrowing as I tilted my head, "this is unexpected."
Hamish raised an eyebrow, his rough hands resting casually on the hilts of his twin shortswords propped against his knees. "What'd ye find?" he asked, his voice gruff with curiosity. "Something nasty?"
I shook my head, my eyes still locked on the streams of data filtering through my mind. "No," I said, my tone cautious, "but this guy, he's smart. Really smart."
Hamish snorted, leaning back with a smirk tugging at his lips as he scratched at his stubbled chin. "Aye, I gathered that when he started rambling' about runes last time," he said. "What's got you so rattled?"
"Not just runes," I said, my voice dropping as I shook my head again. "His expertise is extensive." I gestured broadly with one hand, explaining, "Physics, engineering, electronics, he's practically a walking textbook of modern science."
With a flick of my wrist, I summoned a glowing orb of floating text, letting it hover between Snow and Hamish. "Look at this, Advanced Engineering at Rank 8. Surveillance Mastery. Programming, materials science, even quantum theory," I said, pausing to let it sink in, "and he's not just a dabbler, he's borderline genius."
Hamish frowned, his thick brows knitting together as he crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly. "Sounds like he'd be useful," he said. "What's the catch?"
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as the orb flickered. "His charisma is abysmal, worse than I thought," I replied, pointing at a line of text, "and he's got a trait called Fragmented Genius. Brilliant, sure, but his ideas come in bursts, and they're often chaotic."
I smirked faintly, adding, "He's as likely to create something groundbreaking as he is to blow himself up in the process." Snow leaned closer, her green eyes glinting with curiosity as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Anything else?" she asked, her voice soft but eager.
"Oh, plenty," I said, grinning despite myself as I tapped the orb to pull up another detail. "He's got a perk called Jerry-Rigger, which lets him improvise tools or solutions when proper equipment isn't around," I explained, waving a hand dismissively. "Pretty impressive, he can build what he needs on the fly, though it's not always stable."
Snow chuckled, her lips curling into a warm smile as she adjusted her grip on her flask. "Sounds like he's both an asset and a liability," she said. "That about sums it up," I replied, nodding.
I continued, "He also has latent magical potential, surprisingly, tied to electricity, probably because of his tech affinity." I tilted my head, considering the possibilities. "If he ever got over his skepticism, he might develop some unique abilities, lightning magic, utility spells, maybe even a fusion of magic and science."
Langston stirred, his head lolling to the side with a low groan escaping his lips as his fingers twitched and curled into the dirt beneath him, a subtle sign of life that snapped everyone's attention to him. Snow froze mid-motion, her flask still in hand, her eyes narrowing slightly, while Hamish leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees, his posture alert but relaxed. Chaucer, perched near the stone doorway, tilted his head with exaggerated curiosity, his long tail flicking lazily behind him.
I stood, brushing the dirt off my hands with a quick swipe, and stepped closer as the tension in the small stone enclosure thickened, anticipation coiling tight in my chest. Langston's groan deepened as his eyes fluttered open, squinting against the dim glow from the ceiling light. He tried to sit up, his arms trembling, but Hamish leaned forward casually, planting one heavy hand on his shoulder, saying, "Not so fast, lad," his voice low and firm as he pressed Langston back down with ease, "we've a few questions for ye first."
Langston blinked rapidly, his face scrunching in confusion as he shook off the daze, his gaze sweeping the room before locking onto me, recognition flaring in his tired eyes. "You," he croaked, his voice hoarse and cracking as he pointed a shaky finger at me, "you're the dig site guy." I crossed my arms, meeting his glare with a steady, unflinching stare.
Snow knelt beside him gracefully, her movements calm as she silently offered the flask of water, though Langston hesitated, his lip curling slightly, before snatching it and gulping it down with desperate, sloppy swallows. I watched him closely, noting the dirt smudged across his face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the way his coat hung off his frame. Whatever had happened to him lately, it had worn him down to the bone.
He finished drinking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a rough swipe, then glared at me again, snapping, "What is this?" His voice was raspy but sharp. "Some kind of ransom? Revenge? What do you want?" I crouched down to his level, my knees brushing the dirt as I kept my tone even, replying, "Answers."
Langston laughed bitterly, his head tipping back against the rock with a dull thud, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he muttered, "Figures, everyone wants something from me." I leaned in slightly, my eyes narrowing, and said, "Start with why you were exiled from the Enclave." Langston stiffened, his jaw clenching tight, his fingers digging into the dirt, and for a moment, I thought he'd clam up, but then he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Because they're idiots," he said, his voice low and bitter as he gestured vaguely with one hand. "That's why they didn't appreciate what I brought to the table," he added, shaking his head with a scowl. "After everything I did for them, they threw me out like garbage."
I tilted my head, pressing him, "Why?" Langston spat, his voice cracking with venom as he slammed a fist into the ground, "Because I failed, that's all it takes, one screw-up, and you're out." He sneered, "They think I'm useless now, dead weight."
Snow frowned, her brows knitting together as she leaned forward, her voice gentle as she asked, "What did you fail at?" resting her hands lightly on her knees. Langston hesitated, his gaze flicking between us, his fingers tapping nervously against the flask, before muttering, "The rune." He looked away, his jaw tight, adding, "That damn rune you stole from me at the dig site, they think it was my responsibility, my failure."
My eyes narrowed as I leaned closer, my voice firm, "It was your responsibility, you were stealing it." Langston glared at me, his lip curling, but the fire in his eyes flickered and faded as he looked exhausted, his hands dropping to his sides. "It wasn't just about the rune," he said quietly, his voice losing its edge, "it was bigger than that."
He gestured broadly, frustration creeping back in, "The Enclave doesn't just collect magical artifacts, they suppress them, erase them, and make sure no one can ever use them again." He shook his head, continuing, "That rune wasn't just a piece of stone, it was a key, a piece of something much larger." He glared at me again, but it was weak, adding, "And because of you, they think I lost it."
Hamish leaned forward, his gravelly voice cutting in blunt and sharp, "Did you?" Langston's mouth twisted into a bitter smile, his eyes glinting with dark humor as he shrugged limply, "Does it matter?" He snorted, "They didn't even care enough to find out the truth, all that mattered was the failure."
I watched him carefully, my arms still crossed, and said, "And now you want revenge," my tone steady as I studied his reaction. His smile faltered, his expression hardening as he clenched his fists, his voice low and trembling with anger, "What I want is to make them regret ever casting me out." He pointed a shaky finger at me, adding, "They don't get to throw me away and walk away unscathed."
I exchanged a quick glance with Hamish and Snow, catching the subtle shift in their postures, Hamish's skeptical squint, and Snow's thoughtful frown, noting that this wasn't just revenge driving him. There was hurt there, but also something deeper, anger, pride, desperation, he wasn't just scorned, he was a man who'd lost everything and was clawing for a lifeline. Before I could respond, Langston's gaze shifted, landing on Chaucer for the first time, his eyes widening in shock as he recoiled, scrambling back against the rock with a startled yelp, shouting, "What the hell is that?!" pointing wildly.
Chaucer straightened with a flourish, brushing off his coat with exaggerated flair, his whiskers twitching, and said, "Ah, the inevitable moment of astonishment, I do so cherish it." He sauntered closer, his nose twitching as he peered down at Langston with a smug grin, introducing himself. "Allow me to introduce myself, Chaucer, former Mushmouth of no renown, current Ratsassin of considerable skill." He bowed deeply, his tail flicking, adding, "A pleasure, truly."
Langston stared, his mouth gaping as he pressed himself further against the rock, stammering, "It, it talks?" his voice pitching up in disbelief. Chaucer sighed dramatically, rolling his beady eyes as he turned to me with a paw on his hip, "I always get this reaction, you'd think by now people would understand the concept of evolution." He pivoted back to Langston, his grin widening, saying, "Yes, I talk, quite eloquently, in fact," puffing out his chest, "and I might add, I've already saved your sorry hide once today, you're welcome."
Langston spluttered, his hands flailing as he looked between me and Chaucer, choking out, "What, what kind of madness is this?" his voice cracking. Chaucer tilted his head, feigning offense as he placed a paw over his heart, echoing, "Madness?" his voice rising in playful indignation, "Sir, I assure you, this is the pinnacle of civilized discourse." He smirked, adding, "Perhaps it's your limited imagination that makes it seem otherwise."
Snow stifled a giggle, her hand pressing against her mouth as her shoulders shook, while even Hamish smirked, his rough chuckle rumbling low in his chest. Langston, though, just stared, his face a mask of bewilderment, muttering, "This, this is insane," shaking his head, "You're all insane." I straightened, my tone staying even as I met his gaze, "Perhaps, but that doesn't change the fact that you're here, and you're going to answer our questions."
Langston glared at me, his jaw tightening, but the fight seemed to drain out of him as he sagged back against the rock, muttering under his breath as he rubbed his temple. "Fine," he grumbled, his voice flat, "ask your damn questions." I settled back onto the makeshift stone seat I'd claimed earlier, crossing my arms as I studied him, saying, "Let's start simple. What exactly was the Enclave planning with that rune?"
Langston's lip curled, his fingers tapping an irritable rhythm against the flask, and for a moment, I thought he'd snap back with something sarcastic, but then he sighed, the weight of his situation sinking in. "The Enclave doesn't play around with things they don't understand," he said, his voice low and edged with frustration, waving a hand dismissively, "that rune? It wasn't just some trinket to put in a vault." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "It was connected to something bigger, a gateway, and from what I gathered, they wanted to ensure it stayed shut."
Snow tilted her head, leaning forward with genuine curiosity as she rested her chin in her hand, asking, "Why shut it?" Her voice was soft and probing. Langston gestured broadly, his hands slashing through the air as his voice rose, "Because they're terrified of magic, anything that destabilizes their perfect little world of science and control is a threat." He snorted, "They didn't know what would happen if the gateway was activated, but the thought of something powerful coming through? It was enough to send them into a panic."
I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing as I pressed him, "And you? Did you share their fear, or were you just following orders?" My voice was sharp but measured. Langston's expression darkened, his hands clenching into fists as he stared at the ground. "I didn't fear it, I was fascinated by it." He looked up at me, his eyes glinting with defiance. "That's why I wanted to study the rune, to understand it," shaking his head bitterly, "but the Enclave doesn't care about understanding, they care about control."
He slumped back, continuing, "When I pushed for more research, they shut me down, and when the rune was stolen, I became the scapegoat." Hamish leaned forward, his voice gruff and blunt as he scratched at his jaw. "So, they cut you loose. Seems to me they did you a favor," a hint of disdain in his tone. Langston scoffed, his lip curling as he shot Hamish a glare, snapping, "Easy for you to say, you're not the one who lost everything."
Hamish shrugged, unfazed, his hands resting casually on his swords, "You lost a job, not your soul," his tone flat. The words hit Langston like a slap, and for a moment, he froze, his face twisting with unexpected pain as he glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if grasping for something lost. "You don't understand," he muttered, his voice barely audible, "the Enclave was my life, my purpose," shaking his head slowly, "without them, I don't know who I am."
I leaned forward, my tone sharp but not unkind as I locked eyes with him. "You have a chance to redefine that purpose, you're here now." I gestured around the enclosure, "The Enclave may have cast you aside, but that doesn't mean your story is over." Langston looked up at me, his expression wary as he rubbed his wrists where the ropes had been, asking, "And what? You're just going to trust me? Let me waltz into your little utopia and play nice?" his voice skeptical.
I straightened, my gaze hardening, "Trust is earned, and you've got a long way to go before you get mine," pointing at him firmly. I softened my tone slightly, "But you're here, Langston, that means you have a choice." I crossed my arms again. "Work with us, prove you're worth the effort, or walk away and fend for yourself."
Chaucer, who'd been lounging quietly against the wall, suddenly piped up, his voice bright and teasing as he clapped his paws together, "I vote for him staying, at least for the entertainment value." He tilted his head, eyeing Langston. "His existential crisis is quite riveting." Langston shot him a glare, his lip curling as he pointed at Chaucer. "You," he started, but Chaucer cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Oh, don't look at me like that, you'll find I grow on you, like moss or lichen," his tone mockingly cheerful.
Snow hid a smile behind her hand, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter, while Hamish chuckled under his breath, his rough laugh rumbling as he shook his head. Langston, though, just scowled, his arms crossing tightly over his chest, muttering, "You're all insane," but the edge in his voice had softened, resignation creeping in. I stood, brushing off my hands with a quick clap. "That's settled, then, you'll come back with us to Doras Dhagda," stepping closer, my gaze locking with his, "you'll see what we're building and decide for yourself if you want to be part of it."
I paused, letting my words sink in, then added, "But let me make one thing clear," leaning in, my voice dropping to a low, serious edge, "if you cross me or endanger my people, I won't hesitate to deal with you, understood?" Langston swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he nodded stiffly. "Understood," his voice quiet but steady. "Good," I said, stepping back with a nod. "Hamish, help him up, we're heading back."
Hamish grabbed Langston by the arm, hauling him to his feet with a grunt of effort, and Langston stumbled, his legs shaky, but caught himself, casting a wary glance around at us. Snow stepped forward, her movements gentle as she handed him the flask again, her eyes kind, and he accepted it without a word, clutching it tightly as he straightened. As we began the trek back to Doras Dhagda, Chaucer bounded ahead, his movements light and graceful, calling over his shoulder, "So, what shall we call him?" his voice teasing as he hopped onto a rock, "The Fallen Scientist? The Weasel of Woe?"
I smirked, shaking my head as I kept my pace steady. "Let's just stick with Langston," I said dryly. Chaucer sighed dramatically, throwing his paws up in mock despair. "Fine," his tone dripping with exaggerated disappointment, "but only because you insist, m'lord." Langston muttered something under his breath, his shoulders hunching as he trudged along, but I ignored it, my focus shifting ahead.
There was still much to learn about him, and whether he could be trusted was anyone's guess, but for now, he was coming with us. And if nothing else, it'd be interesting to see how he adapted to life in Doras Dhagda. As we made our way back toward Doras Dhagda, I felt something off, not the kind of "off" that makes you glance over your shoulder, expecting eyes in the shadows, but more like holding a compass that starts spinning wildly, screaming that you're near something powerful.
The air grew heavier, thicker, almost electric, pressing against my skin, and Chaucer noticed first, of course he did. His little nose twitched, sniffing the air as he hopped ahead a few steps, then paused, his whiskers practically buzzing. "M'lord Robert," he said, spinning on his heel with a dramatic flourish, "I smell something peculiar." I raised an eyebrow, slowing my pace. "Peculiar how?" my voice was calm but curious.
Chaucer tilted his head, his paws clasping together as he grinned, "Like flowers," his tone playful yet sharp, "not the good kind, mind you, the kind that make you sneeze and dream funny things after you fall asleep sniffing them." Snow giggled, her hand brushing her hair back as she smirked at him. "That's oddly specific, Chaucer," her voice light with amusement. Chaucer puffed up his chest, his tail flicking proudly. "Aye, I'm a rat of specifics," he shot back, winking at her.
Hamish, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes, his hand drifting to one of his short swords as he scanned the horizon, muttering, "Fairy business, you think?" His voice low and suspicious, "The tricky bastards?" I paused, my hand resting on my hip as I considered it, fairy magic wasn't something to shrug off, playful one minute, vicious the next if they felt like it. Langston, trailing behind, let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his hands up, "Fairies?" his voice dripping with sarcasm, "What are you talking about? That's a children's story."
I glanced back at him, smirking as I tilted my head. "Yeah, Langston," I said dryly, "just like living stone knights and rat assassins are bedtime tales, right?" That shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he scowled at the ground, at least for a little while. I waved Snow and Hamish forward, my voice firm. "Use your scouting skills, pinpoint whatever's causing this disturbance."
Snow nodded, closing her eyes as her staff glowed with a steady light, her lips moving silently, while Hamish, ever practical, grunted and climbed a nearby boulder, his boots scraping the rock as he scanned the valley. After a moment, Snow opened her eyes, her voice soft but sure. "There's something up ahead," her staff dimmed as she pointed, "it's definitely a portal, newly formed, I think." Hamish squinted into the distance, his hand shielding his eyes. "Aye, I see something too," he called down, his voice rough. "Down the valley, near the cliff edge, it looks like a shimmer in the air."
A new Sanctum, that much was clear, Sanctums weren't subtle, and the glimmer Hamish described matched what I'd seen before. But this one felt different, a siren's song, inviting yet threatening all at once, and I nodded, my decision quick: "We're checking it out." As we approached, the landscape shifted subtly around us, the once-straight path twisted, and the cliffs loomed taller, their shadows stretching long.
Langston muttered again, his voice low and skeptical, "optical illusions" and "natural phenomena," but I tuned him out, this was magic, no question. The portal came into view slowly, like a mirage sharpening into reality, shimmering with an iridescent glow, colors shifting like oil on water. A shiver ran down my spine as I stopped short, muttering under my breath, "Fairy Sanctum," my voice tight.
Hamish stepped up beside me, his brow furrowing. "How can you tell?" his voice was gruff as he gripped his swords. I pointed toward the portal, my hand steady. "The aura, the colors, and the feeling," pausing to meet his gaze, "it's like it's daring us to step inside." Chaucer clambered onto a rock, his movements quick and nimble as he peered at the portal with wide eyes. "It smells sweet," his voice bright with curiosity, "like candy."
Hamish snorted, his lip curling as he shot Chaucer a look. "Aye, well, you can keep your candy," he said dryly. "I've no interest in getting tricked by some sprite." Chaucer grinned wickedly, his whiskers twitching as he leaned toward Hamish. "You're just scared you'll fall for a pretty fae lass," he teased, "and end up dancin' till your boots wear out." Hamish glared at him, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "Keep talking, rat," he growled, "and I'll show you what gets worn out."
Snow stepped between them, her staff raised slightly as she shot them both a stern look. "Enough, both of you," her voice was firm but calm. "This Sanctum feels dangerous." She turned to me, her expression serious. "We need to decide if we're going in now or heading back to Doras to prepare." I stepped forward, my jaw tightening as I stared at the portal. "We don't know what's inside, but we can guess: sprites, brownies, maybe even unseelie fairies," glancing at the group, "all of them tricky, all of them dangerous."
I crossed my arms. "If we go in now, we'll be unprepared, if we go back to Doras, we can gear up, maybe bring more people." Langston, silent till now, threw his hands up in exasperation. "You're seriously considering walking into that thing?" his voice rising, "You don't even know what's on the other side!" I turned to him, my smirk returning as I raised an eyebrow. "Langston," my tone was dry, "you're here to learn, so start learning," gesturing toward the portal. "Sanctums are how this world works now, we don't avoid them, we face them head-on."
He muttered "suicidal idiots" under his breath, his arms crossing tightly as he glared at me, but I ignored him, my focus back on the shimmering portal. "All right, everyone," I said, my voice cutting through the tension, "do we head in or head back to prepare?" Silence stretched as we stood before the portal, its swirling energy casting shifting light over the rocky terrain, I could see the unease in their faces, except Hamish, who just looked annoyed.
"We're going in," I said, my voice sharp and final as I stepped forward, and Hamish adjusted his grip on his swords, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "About time," he muttered, falling into step beside me. Snow hesitated, her staff clutched tightly as she bit her lip. "Robert," her voice was soft with worry, then trailed off, not arguing, just pulling her staff closer, steeling herself. Chaucer clapped his paws together, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, excellent!" he chirped, bouncing on his feet. "Into the jaws of mystery we go! Treasures abound, danger awaits, exactly how I like it."
Langston crossed his arms tighter, his scowl deepening as he shuffled behind. "That's a terrible mindset," he grumbled, his voice low and sour. "Do any of you ever consider not charging headfirst into unknown danger?" I glanced back at him, my tone dry as I kept walking, "Langston, if I wanted your advice on bravery, I'd ask," smirking, "for now, just try to keep up." His irritated muttering faded into the hum of the portal as I looked at the group, Snow's hesitant nod, Hamish's eager grin, Chaucer's infectious bounce, even Langston adjusting his bag despite his grumbling, this was my team, flawed, strange, sometimes infuriating, but mine.
We stepped through the portal, the transition hitting like a jolt, cold air rushing past, a fleeting sense of falling, then solid ground under my boots. I opened my eyes, blinking as a dreamlike world unfolded around us, the forest shimmering with magic, its trees glowing with a soft silver hue, their leaves reflecting the light. Tiny orbs floated lazily through the air, casting an otherworldly radiance, while the ground was carpeted with moss, its color shifting subtly under our feet, even the air felt thick with power, pressing against me like a living presence.
Snow's breath caught, her eyes widening as she clutched her staff. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice trembling with awe. Chaucer tilted his head, his nose twitching as he scanned the trees. "Beautiful? Yes," his tone cautious yet playful, "safe? Absolutely not," grinning slyly, "places like this always have a catch, mark my words."
Hamish snorted, rolling his shoulders as he gripped his swords, "Are you ever not dramatic?" His voice was dry, while Chaucer spun to face him, paws on his hips as he smirked, "Hamish, my friend," his voice rising theatrically, "drama is what makes life worth living."
Hamish rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he turned away, and Langston stood apart, his arms still crossed, his face a mix of wariness and curiosity. "This place is unnatural," his voice sharp as he squinted at the trees, "nothing here follows the laws of physics." I smirked, glancing back at him as I took a step forward. "Good thing we're not here for a science lecture, then," I said dryly.
The soft moss muffled my footsteps as I moved deeper into the forest, the trees forming a dense canopy, letting only faint shafts of silver light pierce through, no birds chirped, no leaves rustled, just the steady hum of magic filling the silence.
I glanced back at the group, my thoughts swirling, this wasn't my first Sanctum, but this one felt different, not just the beauty, but the weight, the way the magic pressed against my skin. I couldn't shake the sense that we were being watched, judged, it's strange, stepping into a place like this, I thought. Sanctums always feel alive to me, not just the creatures, but the sanctums themselves, like they're testing us, judging if we're worthy of their secrets. This one's no different, the magic's thick, almost oppressive, but not hostile, not yet, it's waiting, watching.
I studied my team. Snow's wide-eyed awe, her staff gripped tight; Hamish at my side, tense but confident; Chaucer crouching low, eyes sharp; even Langston, alert despite his grumbling. They trusted me to lead. That trust was heavy, but it fueled me too. Chaucer's voice broke through my thoughts, his tone light and teasing as he straightened, "So, fearless leader," his whiskers twitching, "what's the plan?"
I turned to him, my voice firm as I scanned the forest, "We move carefully, no splitting up, no touching anything unless I say so." Hamish grinned, his swords glinting faintly in the light, and asked, "And if something attacks?" his voice eager, and I smirked, meeting his gaze.
"Then we hit back harder." Hamish's grin widened, clearly satisfied as he nodded.
Snow stepped closer, her voice soft but steady as she clutched her staff. "Robert," her eyes flickering with concern, "I feel something ahead," pausing to tilt her head, "a presence, it's there."