Scourge of Chaos: Savage Healer

“This here is the Hammer Ring. It creates a sound similar to when a hammer strikes an anvil. The hunter that brought it had trouble hearing since while hunting this thing is easy, transporting it without a quasi-spell container is a bitch. Unfortunately, it also affects the user,” Adib explained.

He somehow had his spells in proper Arcanum cubes. Sunday was not that curious about the material they were made from, but perhaps having a few for his future adventures would prove a worthwhile thing.

The naming sense was all over the place though. It seemed that whoever found the spells called them the first thing that popped to mind, and it stuck.

“This here is Swim like a Fish. I know, the name sounds strange but if you ever need to go underwater or swing away from danger, this spell will be your best bet!

“Now, this… This is a weird one. It allows the mage to see hallucinations of one's favorite foods. No taste. Just sight. Honestly, I just keep it around to speak about it. It’s worthless in a fight and no one has named it. Maybe it’s good for dieting? Hahahah!”

“Of course, as illustrious members of the Arcanum itself, you know of Shield, Earth Spike, Glass Wall, and Little Light.”

Little Light? It was obviously a Lampyria spell.

Sunday listened to it all with fascination despite the stupid names. The spells were amazing, strange, and beautiful. He wanted them all, even if they were useless. He wanted to experience them and see where they led. Phantasmal Fall had started as something small, and for an unknown reason had decided to bond him, becoming one of the best spells he had seen yet.

Falling into the sky was a sensation like no other. It was a pity he needed the buff of the Berserk Moon to fully access the strength of the spells. He often wondered why that was.

They continued browsing for a long while.

The huge cart had been hiding a passage leading to a large underground hall, just beneath one of the corner walls of the city, where the lake met the rocks.

The guards inside it were not people and undead Sunday wanted to mess with. Each looked experienced, and the few magi he managed to clock all wore sullen and hard expressions—a hard contrast to most of those he passed in the Arcanum.

And with all those strange spells…

“Your selection is amazing,” Sunday said. He meant it.

“This is just the start! I have some very rare things here. Come, come!”

He led them further in and the whole time Elora smirked at Sunday. She seemed oddly pleased. He had to admit, this was great.

Now on to the fireballs…

“This here,” Adib said pointing toward a cube containing something like a smudged wolf or a bear. “Is a summoning spell. You know how rare they are!”

Sunday’s eyes widened. “What kind of summoning spell?”

“Honestly, no one has managed to try it successfully since summoning spells are even more capricious than other spells. We think it might be some sort of a ghostly bear or something. It was… borrowed… from a different branch of the Arcanum, far, far from here. Since it's rare and special, its price is special too. I hope you can understand.”

“And no one can use it,” Elora raised an eyebrow.

“Now, now, Elora. Such things don’t matter all that much. A spell’s rarity might not be proportional to its strength, as proven by the Arcanum’s wealth of Fireball spells, but the strength of its character and the difficulty with which it is subdued very much tell us a lot!”

“I want it,” Sunday said. This was a treasure! Wolf or bear, it was a summon, and summons were subject to the Visage of the Berserk Moon, or even better, his Moon Moth Buff! Or both?! He could make a super bear! A killing machine of legend!

He couldn’t wait for the next hound. Oh, how that piece of shit Hunter would rage. We’ll see who’s unworthy you daft bastard.

“You do?” Elora asked. “This is overpriced junk! Summons are rare because they’re weak!”

Weak? My face-melters would like a word! Damn girl!

“Girl, I like you a lot, but let the men talk,” Adib said, then turned toward Sunday, who nodded sagely in agreement. “Friend, I see you’re a person of exquisite taste. The price is fifteen thousand gold pieces, or perhaps…” he licked his lips, “…you’d prefer a trade?”

“A trade,” Sunday instantly said. “However, this spell won’t be enough.”

“Oh? Hahaha! Good man, good man! And do tell me what is so valuable that a spell of this caliber cannot cover it? Hm?”

“Arts,” Sunday said.

Adib’s eye twitched. “Arts? Multiple?”

“I have a few, but I’m giving you one. In exchange, I’ll need this and a few other spells.”

“A few other spells? Are you mad? This is tens of thousands of gold you’re bargaining for! Unless you barged into the Arcanum’s very repository and stole some art from there, you can’t possibly have something me or my colleagues don’t have!”

Sunday smiled, “I guarantee some of what I offer is quite rare. And don’t take me for a fool, please. Your scribes can easily copy the Art, and you’ll be selling copies until you grow too old and too fat to do so. A spell, you only sell once.”

Adib instantly deflated, then turned to Elora. “Girl, what have you brought to weak old Adib?”

“A nightmare,” Elora replied.

Sunday grinned. “We’ll speak after I see some more of your spells. This one I want, for sure.”

He led them further in. His poor mood was faked. Sunday was sure of it. It was a tradesman's greatest asset to be a good actor able to fool their customers. Especially when dealing with dangerous business such as spells.

“Here’s another batch. I keep them separated by contributor so forgive the chaos. This is Lullaby, Self-Tying Rope, Unbreakable Teeth, and Shovel.”

Spells come in such forms? Who the fuck would need a shovel?

“Unbreakable teeth?” Elora asked curious. “And a Shovel? Just a Shovel? Curse the Divine, Adib, what have you brought out this time?”

It didn’t look like a shovel to Sunday, but the image inside the cube was too difficult to see through.

“Everything! The roads grow treacherous and the ghouls lurk everywhere. There are talks of a horde, and don’t tell me the Arcanum is unaware. If the mountains have given birth to a high ghoul or worse I don’t want to be around to meet it. That old bastard in the Council’s cellars will hardly be a match, considering he can barely keep the night guard alert.”

Shit, that’s scary. A ghoul horde… I kind of want to unleash my Berserk BearWolf among them. Ah, it will be glorious.

“This here, the Unbreakable Teeth, is quite special. Don’t look down on it. I’ve seen magi bite off pieces of metal like bread. Very useful skill, if one knows how to use their mouth.”

Are there dog magi?

“As for the Shovel, it is just as the name suggests. A tool spell in the shape of a Shovel that can dig anywhere where there’s solid ground. Allegedly. It’s a gem, this one, but difficult to handle as well. Some guy dug up the middle of a mountain and jumped in the hole to keep digging. However, he caused a rock slide and died.”

“So if I want to dig up the stone floor here, I can?” Sunday asked. This was ridiculous.

Adib shrugged. “Dunno. Probably.”

What the fuck.

“How do you know what it does, if the guy that used it is dead?” Sunday asked again.

“Sources.”

Right.

“Do you have any… classic Spells?”

“Classic spells?”

Ah, damn it. Poor choice of words.

“Fireballs, icebolts, that sort of thing.”

“Elemental spells? I do, but they’ll cost ya. Not many fire spells, obviously. They’re difficult enough to obtain as it is, and the Arcanum has quite a tight leash on them. They hate it when someone uses fire. Too destructive or something. Same with death and life spells.”

Sunday frowned.

Sotu had used a fireball, but that might’ve been part of the circus. All of the bullshit might’ve been a trap for him to reveal how little he knew of the world and its custom too, come to think of it. It was too late for regrets, and Sunday was determined to squeeze the Arcanum dry for their audacity to play him for a fool.

“Elora,” Sunday began just to be safe as they moved toward yet another batch. “Are duels like the one I had with Sotu a thing? Do they happen?”

She frowned. “Magi duel, be it for honor or as practice. Bets are often a thing as well, but rarely for spells. What happened with you is… quite unprecedented. It was weird. Everyone seemed out of it that day and my mom was constantly rolling her eyes. I was dragged along by her and felt quite bad for you, but you slapped that Sotu guy real good. Sorry, I wasn’t there with you.”

Not for spells, huh? Why did they give me Messanger, then? I have yet to try it… It might be something else. Come to think of it, I left it with Mera and didn’t bother placing it in my soul space or checking its name on the golden page. Those bastards! I’ll tear them apart! That double-faced bastard Kloud too! He was so sincere!

Why such a situational spell rather than something I’d like to equip immediately, then? Maybe it’s just as I previously thought—a bribe. Or it’s as to not raise my suspicion. I fell for it. Fuck.

“This is an Icy Ground. The name is pretty clear. Freezes the ground and makes things slide. Can work on liquids, but it's taxing,” Adib explained. “This is Blinding Wind, which I don’t recommend to friends, since it’s quite a double-edged spell. I’ve got a simple Mud spell that will make the ground into mud, a Rust Eater, which… does as suggested. Good for removing old weaponry or making holes in old steel doors.”

Spells, as it turned out, could do anything. Some were silly and downright ridiculous; others were terrifying forces of nature. Sunday wasn’t sure that half the things Adib was saying about the spells were true. The man was no mage and worked on word of mouth from the sellers.

It was impossible to understand a smell on looks alone, especially when it was encased in cubes of whatever it was that kept spells safe.

“I’ll take the summon, Shovel, and Icy Ground,” Sunday said. He was giving up hope for actual fireballs. At least until he got Chaotic Step under control and robbed the Arcanum blind.

Adib smiled a predatory smile. “That, my friend, is a great selection. How will you pay though?”

“Can we go somewhere we won’t be overheard?”

Adib agreed readily, and led them to wagon turned office. He gestured to the guards, then whispered something to a bespectacled man sitting inside. He left on short order.

Sunday wasted no time as he took the first page of one of the copies Riya had so graciously provided him with. She was no magi scribe, but she was good at what she did.

Adib took it and waited.

“I’m no mage. I need on to verify,” he said.

Sunday nodded. He expected no less.

Soon a man and a very grumpy woman entered and without a word took the offered page. Soon their expressions were overcome with wonder and excitement.

“An essence purification art!” the woman exclaimed. “This is worth a fortune!”

“It is?” Sunday smiled. “I’ll take that Swim like a Fish spell too, then. Elora, do you want anything?”

The girl shook her head and eyed him with suspicion.

Adib grunted toward the magi. “Are you sure?”

It was the man who answered. “If the art is legitimate, it is straight from the Arcanum’s collections. See these symbols? They’re not part of the art itself, but the Arcanum leaves them as a mark of ownership... on the original scrolls. This copy has been made from an original! Whoever copied it didn’t know that. The scribe will have to be thorough in removing it.”

Shit. That would’ve been good to know.

“Does it have a name?” the woman asked Sunday.

“Purity of the Stargazer.”

The two looked at one another and then at Adib, who had taken a large book at the mention of a name and was going through it with his finger.

“No records,” he said. A bead of sweat was dripping down his forehead.

Am I losing on this deal? It’s four spells!

“My friend. I agree to your deal,” Adib offered a hand and Sunday hesitated.

Screw it. I’ll just steal more.

He shook the hand with a smile.