The Lich Without a Soul Vessel

"The Plowing Festival?" Evan asked, puzzled.

"A tradition that's been handed down here in Norse — originally a Druid holiday. Druid society was built on farming, and every four years, on this day, all the farmers hold a rite to mark the spring planting. The Druids turn it into a proper celebration, and our own students head out to the nearby villages to join in the festivities with the farmers," Emma said.

"Are you two going?" Evan asked.

"We're going, yes. Everyone's different, of course — some people don't care for crowds and skip it. For us, it's mostly about seeing what's for sale. About thirty miles east of Hollingburton, it's become tradition over the years — on the day of the Plowing Festival, mages and other ability-users from all over bring out every manner of thing to sell, including plenty from abroad. With a bit of luck, you can find something genuinely good. It happens every year, though this particular stretch always draws the biggest crowds," Emma said.

"A market like that — I should go take a look myself. Do people trade in gold coin, or something else?" Evan asked.

"Mostly gold. Though there's some bartering too," Jessica said.

"Weren't you attacked not long ago? Aren't you worried about another ambush?" Evan said, teasing.

"I'm not alone this time. And Emma made me something too — same idea as your crescent blade. Let the Church try again, and they'll get more than they bargained for. Creator watch over us," Jessica said with a laugh, the last phrase slipping out from habit. Faith, put plainly, was mostly a matter of personal comfort — unless one counted as a true zealot, no one thought twice about invoking it, and it barely touched anyone's actual life. But what about from a god's own perspective? A thought suddenly occurred to Evan.

Before long, the quadrennial Plowing Festival arrived, and the school observed its usual break. Evan, Emma, and the others set out together for the market. Along the way, they passed farming households, each one already laid with offerings — a gesture of respect toward the divine, though which god exactly, no one much cared.

Some students mingled among the villagers — this close to Hollingburton, the locals knew them well, and plenty called out greetings as the group passed. Ever since Hollingburton's founding, this stretch of land had known nothing but peace.

Evan's group didn't linger. Thirty miles counted as real distance even for a mage, though not far at all for Evan personally — a two-hour trip at most, and he could have made it faster still if not for the others.

Their group numbered five — three women and two men. Besides Evan, there was Avaz, and the three women were Jessica, Emma, and Shirley. Xiaoshuang hadn't come along; she'd gone off into the mountains instead.

They reached the market thirty miles out to find it had grown into something like a small town — an odd, lopsided sort of town, tucked among the surrounding hills, built around a single trade: goods related to magic. Restaurants and inns were scarce, since aside from student visitors, few outsiders ever passed through most of the year — only one or two weeks annually saw any real crowd, and lodging usually meant staying with nearby farming families.

By the time Evan's group arrived, every stall stood open, the usual dozen or so shops multiplied many times over, calls and haggling filling the air on every side.

Materials, pets, magical items of every description filled the stalls — even odd little books like A Shorthand Method for Incantations were on offer. Evan spotted a student who'd traveled with him to the Barbarian Continent selling wands at a stall, and on closer inspection, recognized the material — branches taken from the sacred tree of life they'd killed near the entrance to the goddess's half-plane.

None of that held any particular use for Evan, though he browsed idly all the same, until his eye caught a jade pendant at one stall — something that looked strikingly like a fragment of the Philosopher's Stone formula he'd been searching for. He crouched down and picked it up directly. Fine quality material.

The stallkeeper, seeing him pick it up, said, "Honored customer, this stone bears a Philosopher's Stone formula on it — a genuine one. Interested in buying?"

Evan had assumed the man had no idea what he was selling, but apparently he knew exactly what it was. "What's your price?"

"Honored guest, the stone itself isn't worth much, but the formula it carries certainly is. Flat price — one thousand gold coins," the man said, opening with an outrageous demand.

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"If this were the complete Philosopher's Stone formula, that price would actually be too low. But is this really the whole thing?" Evan said with a smile, giving the pendant a small twist. There was a soft crack, and the jade split cleanly in two. Evan glanced at it — in one corner sat three carved characters, positioned exactly where the fragments he already owned bore theirs. He studied the content: an ancient dyad, born within the philosopher's egg's own womb, bringing forth a sacred and majestic king who seized a great serpent. That was the image. Below it, in smaller script: the serpent was born from the foul-smelling mire of the great flood, and had to be slain by the sun god Ra's own divine arrow. Washed clean by the whitening elixir, the serpent's teeth were harvested, and when sown into the earth, soldiers rose from the ground and slaughtered one another until none remained.

He divides himself, he freezes himself, he blackens himself, he whitens himself, he kills himself, he revives himself — the passage closed with that final line, followed by an alchemical equation below it.

Evan confirmed what he'd expected: another set of ingredients and procedures recorded in coded language, involving three materials — the ancient dyad, the whitening elixir (the majestic king), and the great serpent — with stages including gestation, freezing, blackening, and whitening. Unmistakably the third jade fragment.

"The information on this piece is only worth fifty gold. It's such a small portion," Evan said, snapping the jade shut with a click, his tone flat.

"That's far too little. Add a bit more," the stallkeeper said. The two haggled at length — turned out men could bargain just as fiercely as anyone — and the three women watched Evan with genuine admiration.

After considerable back-and-forth, they settled on a hundred gold coins.

"You drove that bargain hard," Jessica said. "Down to a tenth of what he asked for."

"The thing was useless to him anyway. Didn't you see how carelessly he'd set it out on the ground? If it were something genuinely precious, would he treat it that way? I doubt he even believed it was authentic himself," Evan said.

"And yet you still paid good money for it?"

"Because I know it's real. He doesn't believe it — I do," Evan said.

"You're that confident?"

"I know it's genuine, because I already have three or four other fragments. Whatever the hidden markings, whatever the material, whatever the content — it all traces back to the same source. Cut from a single larger stone originally," Evan said.

"You have three or four fragments already? You've been collecting the Philosopher's Stone formula this whole time!" Jessica said, genuinely impressed, her own curiosity clearly piqued.

"That's right. I'll show you all once we're back," Evan said, thinking he could use a few more sharp minds on the problem.

Just then, a woman's voice called out. "Mr. Wang?" — with a note of real delight in it.

Evan turned to find Becky, one of Franklin's mages, still only fourth tier, though clearly on the verge of advancing. "Hello, Becky. What brings you out here alone?"

"I'm not alone — Raymond's with me. Baron Franklin couldn't come, tied up with domestic matters," Becky said. Evan glanced around curiously but didn't see Raymond anywhere.

Seeing this, Becky smiled. "No need to look — he's just behind, chatting with a friend he ran into. I came to pick up some magical items and materials. Mr. Wang, are these your companions?"

"Let me introduce everyone," Evan said. "This is Mage Becky, a water mage. Jessica, senior mind mage. Emma, senior fire mage. Shirley, senior earth mage. Avaz, senior wind and fire mage." Becky offered each a small curtsy in turn.

"A pleasure to meet you all, honored mages," Becky said.

"A pleasure to meet you too, Mage Becky. How did you come to grow into a mage yourself?" Jessica asked, clearly taken with the girl.

Just as Becky opened her mouth to answer, another voice rang out — delighted, and edged with something close to reproach. "Evan! It's you! Why did you leave without a word last time?"

Evan's head sank at the sound. Andrea. What was she doing here? He turned around, forcing a smile. "Andrea! You've come here too?"

Andrea wasn't alone — Cecilia and Robin stood beside her — but her eyes had gone straight to Evan, no one else in her field of view at all, her tone sharp with reproach.

"Why shouldn't I be here? Am I interrupting some private rendezvous?" Andrea's voice turned sharper still. Her eyes had landed on Becky, and something clicked — she'd seen this woman before, one of Franklin's people, someone with some connection to Evan. No wonder he'd slipped away so quietly last time. When it came to matters of the heart, women were entirely creatures of feeling.

Evan could only give a rueful smile. Did she really think this looked anything like a private rendezvous, in the middle of a public market? "Andrea, you're mistaken. Becky and I only just ran into each other here."

Andrea's gaze swept over to Jessica and the others — all three women fair of face, not the most stunning beauties perhaps, but genuinely lovely all the same. Her temper started to flare. Cecilia, seeing this, knew there was no saving her sister now and grabbed her arm quickly. "Forgive her, Mr. Wang. My little sister's still carrying some resentment over you leaving so suddenly last time. That's all this is."

Jessica and the others watched Evan and Andrea with open curiosity. The half-elf was strikingly lovely, her pointed ears paired with a fine, delicate face — genuinely enough to turn a man's head, young as she still was. They couldn't help wondering exactly what history lay between her and Evan.

Evan gave a rueful laugh. "Drawn out by the Plowing Festival as well, I take it? Don't worry — every guest is welcome here. Let me introduce everyone." He deliberately gave Andrea the cold shoulder for a moment, letting her cool down on her own, and began introducing the group properly.

Andrea's eyes reddened, words rising to her lips, but Cecilia tightened her grip on her sister's hand. "Don't be hasty. Let your sister handle this."