Anneliese held a coin in her hand, twisting it through the light passing through the carriage. Though the coin was a metallic pink, its surface shone with a great many colors twisting with the light. It wasn’t so simple as light reflecting off its surface, though. Its projection of light was indeterminable and unending, twisting to create beautiful images indefinitely. It was, after all, a magic coin.

“How does this thing function?” Anneliese asked.

Argrave lifted his head from a book to Anneliese. Galamon, who sat outside to drive the carriage, looked back. Seeing he wasn’t the one addressed, he turned his eyes back to the road. Argrave took a few seconds to discern what Anneliese was speaking of, and then said, “No one knows. They’re not made anymore because the method was lost. That’s why they’re valuable.”

“Who made it?” Anneliese continued.

“The Order of the Rose, an extinct mage order from the north,” Argrave answered easily. “At one time, they were the only gold coins in Vasquer. As the kingdom grew, the Order of the Rose died off, and their value started to skyrocket over the centuries.”

Anneliese nodded, placing the coin back into the lockbox alongside mounds of ancient, enchanted jewelry and precious jewels they had taken from the ruins of the tomb guardians. Argrave intended to bring them to Jast to appraise their worth.

Both people in the carriage picked up their books once again, reading quietly. Galamon, their driver, wore a brown robe to conceal most of his features. The carriage they rode was humble but formidable, with a large compartment for luggage in the back. Two strong horses pulled them along.

Their journey was a very quiet one. At times, either Anneliese or Argrave would raise their head, each trying to form the magic spell they were learning. Argrave looked at the terrain and occasionally directed Galamon to turn down a different road. Anneliese would ask questions as she thought of them—Argrave, too, occasionally sought her out for help with particular druidic spells.

Eventually, Anneliese finally closed the book, staring at Argrave. “Are you ever going to tell us where we’re going?”

Argrave looked up. “I told you. Side-quests. There are two places we must visit before we head to Jast. One is a short stop for a spellbook—that’s the last. The other is the Cavern of the Death of Lilies.” Argrave paused. “Or was it the Cavern of the Lily’s Death? It’s been a while…” Argrave placed his handkerchief to mark his spot, and then shut the book.

“Anyway, the cavern’s our first stop. One of four ingredients for becoming Black Blooded is in that cavern, and likely the hardest to get. It’ll be immeasurably useful for me, less so for you... It’s a crystal, but it’s more than that at the same time. It’s called the Amaranthine Heart.”

Argrave spread his fingers out to emulate roots digging into the ground. “It takes root in whatever it touches, then slowly spreads out, constantly absorbing magic from anything near it and turning it into a black liquid. This liquid is pure magic—dangerous when taken in large doses, but it can be drunk when needed to recover magic. Closest thing to a ‘magic potion’ we’ll find. Best to get now, as I’m sure we’ll have need of it in our journeys in the future.”

Argrave’s gaze grew distant and his tone became monotonous. “There will be fighting. The cavern is filled with large bugs. It will be extremely unpleasant and nasty. I am not looking forward to adding yet more things to my nightmares.

“Above all!” Argrave continued with renewed vigor. “We can’t take the main roads. We have to be very cautious travelling through the south what with the war going on. That’s why druidic magic was a blessing to me, though I will admit it is a bit unsettling feeling these birds flying outside the carriage.”

“I am confused,” Anneliese confessed. “With a war going on, will they attack random passersby? It seems we are being unduly cautious.”

“You really don’t…?” Argrave paused. “Huh. Come to think of it, I never told you. I am one of five sons to King Felipe III of Vasquer, and the only baseborn of those five. In the territory of a rebellion against the king, my presence will not be especially wanted, unless it’s as a captive.”

Anneliese’s eyes widened.

“Did I really never tell you?” Argrave asked. “Well… I am the sole royal bastard of this kingdom. Used to be literal and figurative. Now it’s just literal. Debatably.” Argrave nodded, and then resumed reading his book.

Anneliese looked out the carriage window to Galamon, expression asking silently if this was normally how he was. Galamon nodded, and then turned his head back to the road.

Index
chapter-48
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