Nightmare Realm Summoner

“Alex! Claire!” Finley exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “You’ve returned!”

“Just a few moments ago,” Alex confirmed with a nod. They’d found Finley speaking with Abby, one of the demons that got on rather well with Aaron and May as best he remembered. Abby had quickly finished up her purchases and excused herself back to her duties when she realized who was waiting.

“We’ve most certainly missed you,” Finley said. He rubbed his hands together. “But, more importantly, the fact you’ve sought me out spells good news. I trust your ventures went well. Does that mean you’ve brought me something nice?”

Alex pulled the Baveroth’s Spatial Fang out from his ring and held it out so Finley could take a look. “Kind of. We’re struggling to get this open. Do you happen to know if there’s a trick to it?”

Finley blinked. He took the fang from Alex and turned it over, examining it carefully for several seconds. Then he let out a small whistle. “This must not have come easily. It’s not low quality. The material is incredible. Definitely magically forged, not just enchanted.”

“Is there a difference?” Alex asked. “I mean, there obviously is. Could you clarify what that difference is?”

“The origin, mostly,” Finley replied absentmindedly, his attention still focused on the fang. “There are a few ways for magical items to come into creation. The most common is someone using magic to force power into a mundane object. That results in varying qualities, depending on how powerful the maker was and how good the material is. Generally speaking, though, the result is of lower desirability. Such enchantments don’t tend to be very strong. They’re more prone to breaking as well.”

“And the other?” Claire asked.

“The way true masterwork weapons are created.” Finley held the horn back out to Alex. “Using magical materials and building an object of power from the ground up. The process is far more involved. It’s time consuming and not something that anyone can pull off. You could think of it as another form of Magical Engineering. But the results speak for themselves. Many of the most powerful magical objects I’ve ever heard of have been created in this manner.”

“Put a pin in the fang really quick,” Alex said. “Now you’ve got me interested. You say many of the most powerful weapons are made like that. What about the others?”

“There are a number of ways a magical item can be created,” Finley replied. A coy smile played across his lips. “I’m giving you a primer, not the whole rundown. But I’m sure I can get you a book that goes into the details if you’re really interested.”

Alex scrunched his nose. He probably should have seen that one coming. “I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad investment. Look into getting one for me?”

Finley grinned. “With pleasure. I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“What about the System?” Claire asked. “Can it make magical items itself?”

That gave Finley a moment of pause. He eventually inclined his head. “Yes. But that’s a whole different matter in itself. Most people tend to believe that the System is more prone to recycling than creating entirely new things. You’re more likely to find a mildly modified version of an item that someone created in the past and then lost in some manner or another, but there are credible records to imply that it has indeed created items from scratch before. Now — let’s not get too distracted. You have a fang problem.”

“Can you fix it?” Alex asked. “Assuming there is a problem, that is. We thought there might be a password or something along those lines protecting it.”

“You’re not far off.” Finley crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Magical storage made at the level of this fang are not meant to be cracked open easily. Even though its master is dead, these items are meant to only bind to a single being. Once they die — boom. No more access. Not through the normal routes, at least.”

“Do we just break it open or something?” Alex asked.

Finley hurriedly shook his head. “Definitely not. That would ruin you access point to the small spatial realm its connected to, losing the items within it forever. You may as well be gifting them to the System if you do that. This requires a finer hand… or a specialized tool. You basically need to pry the spatial area open slowly, then extract the items from within it.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“And you can help us with that?” Claire asked.

“For 10 Credits, I can get whatever is in here out to you in the span of just a short while,” Finley confirmed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. I don’t imagine you got this from the young master of some powerful family, right? It isn’t going to be too heavily protected.”

Alex and Claire exchanged a glance.

“Probably not,” Alex said. “But I’m not going to make any bets. We got it off a giant bloodthirsty bear called a Baveroth.”

Finley just shrugged in response. “There are a lot of species in the Infinium. I’m afraid that word means nothing to me. But chances are, if you managed to kill it, then it wasn’t all that connected. The truly powerful are rarely going to find themselves wandering around aimlessly in the Mirrorlands. You’d have to be hard pressed to stumble into someone truly relevant.”

I’m not so sure. The Cracked Steps definitely aren’t limited to just the Mirrorlands. There are different entrances, and I’d imagine the other ones are in entirely different portions of the universe. That said… the Baveroth didn’t really seem like he was well connected. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.

“I think it should be fine,” Alex said. He tossed Finley the horn. “Here. 10 credits works for me. We’ve got a fair number after the Ancestry. I’m not about to go broke anytime soon.”

“Finer words have never been spoken.” Finley grinned and held his hand out. Alex accepted it. A shimmer of light passed between his Spatial Ring and the merchant’s as the credit transfer completed.

“How long will it take you to get the fang open?” Claire asked. “Should we just wait around?”

“Give me a day,” Finley replied. The fang in his hand vanished, drawn into his own Spatial Ring. “This isn’t the kind of process you want to rush. Push too hard and something could break. It depends how the fang was made. We don’t want to go losing all the goodies inside it just because we were in a rush.”

“That’s fine with me,” Alex said with a shrug. “Just let us know when you’ve got it open.”

“I will,” Finley promised. “Is there anything else you want or need right now? My supply line is doing pretty good, you know. I could probably get my hands on pretty much anything mundane that you wanted.”

“I’m not looking to spend Credits just for the sake of spending them,” Alex said with a shake of his head. “I’d rather keep them for when I actually need something. I think that’s it for me right now.”

“I don’t need anything either,” Claire said. “Thanks for the offer, though. We should be good. Just find us when you’ve got that fang open.”

“Sure thing,” Finley said. “I’ll hunt you down when I’ve got it. Expect me in the next day or two. It shouldn’t take any longer than that.”

***

Blade’s head snapped back. The vision in one of his eyes vanished, going pitch black as a burst of pain exploded through his skull. He stumbled as his thoughts sputtered in surprise for a brief instant. Then his magic kicked back into action.

His body re-knit itself, flesh rapidly working to repair the wound. A piece of metal pushed itself out of his eye, dropping to the ground with a clatter. Blade’s vision returned moments later as his eye reformed. Disbelief spun through his thoughts.

He stared down at the tiny piece of metal on the floor. There was no magic within it at all. And even despite that, it had managed to penetrate. The weapon’s little metal chunk had only managed to make it partially into his eye, but that had been enough to momentarily steal away his vision. And even though the eye was one of the weakest parts of the body, the fact that he’d been hurt at all was deeply uncommon.

Even with my powers heavily suppressed… I didn’t expect this. How odd.

And stranger still was the man who had attacked him. Wess still stood exactly where he had a few moments ago. He hadn’t taken advantage of the moment to sprint for the door. In fact, he hadn’t done anything at all. He was just standing there with the small weapon in his hand.

“Hm,” Wess said. “That didn’t go quite how I expected it to.”

“You attacked me?” Blade asked, still in mild shock. “Your solution to the challenge was to attack the person giving it to you?”

“It was a safe bet,” Wess said. He slipped his weapon back into his jacket pocket. “I mean, that’s worked just about every other time. Best way to deal with a riddle is to get rid of the source. I’ve never been good at them.”

“There was no riddle,” Blade said. He picked up the small chunk of metal and held it between two fingers. “Your challenge is to make it as far as you can toward that door. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but I figured it would be a lot easier to do that if you were dead,” Wess said. “No pressure, no problem.”

“I never said the pressure came from me,” Blade pointed out.

“It was an educated guess.” Wess shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t pay out. Happens sometimes. You know. Such is life. Can’t complain about bygones. I tried, right?”

There wasn’t so much as a shred of embarrassment or shame in the other man’s posture. He’d gone for a killing blow with practically zero provocation and didn’t even feel awkward about it when staring the person he’d tried to kill right in the eyes.

Despite Wess’ relatively jovial exterior and lighthearted words, there wasn’t so much as a scrap of compassion or conscience within the cold eyes hidden beneath his tattered hat.

The man before him wasn’t at all like the last few that had come into his room recently.

He was a cold-blooded killer.

A smile spread across Blade’s lips.

There were many different kinds of potential. And while this wasn’t the kind of person he’d ever trust with his back… he could work with this. It would need a different approach than the others. But Blade had been an instructor for a long time.

Adapting to his students was part of the job.

This should be somewhat amusing. Let’s see how far that cold determination of yours can take you, Wess.