Far across the span of Existence, away from the planet of Earth and the realm in which it occupies, is the world of Neddel. A world where magic is used by the small percentage of the population willing to open their minds to it’s principles.

The humans on this world are almost as fearful of magic as the humans of Earth.

In response, the few human spell casters banded together to learn the art of sorcery under the tutelage of the Spirits, living as hermits in their great library away from the rest of the world.

However, not every mage has chosen to stay so isolated.

* * *

"Kirn," Called a soft female voice. "I think we have everything."

The store was a modest establishment, built completely of wood in the middle of a village named Lar. The store’s counter occupied the corner near the primitively wrought door. The shelves both lining the walls and standing in the middle of the room were well stocked with such things as jarred preserves, sacks of flour and sugar, wheels of cheese, and fresh vegetables.

"I’ll be right with you." A man of average height and build answered. He was human and wore the blue and purple robes that labeled him as a low ranking sorcerer. His straight, brown hair fell to his shoulders. There was this winsome expression that hinted at a hidden knowledge that seemed to seethe from behind his face. While relatively young in appearance, he showed just enough of a weathered look to let people guess his age fairly accurately at thirty-two years.

"You really sure you don’t want to come over for dinner some time?" The storekeeper insisted to his customer. "I make a great roast."

The fellow behind the counter had a slight paunch that displayed the love he held for his own cooking. He was still youthful though, well in his twenties.

"Right now, I’ve got a lot of running around to do. Then I promised to spend some time with my brother over there." Said the customer. "Though it’s sweet of you to ask, Glif."

Glif hid a look of disappointment behind a pleasant smile.

"The offer still stands."

"I’ll keep that in mind." Smiled the customer. "Now how much do I owe you?’

She was an attractive woman. Slim in a curvaceous way. Her light brown hair hung long enough to reach the small of her back with its naturally full of curls. Her lightly tanned face was clear and looked as flawless as the finest silk. But it was those bright blue eyes of hers that had the habit of making men stand and take notice.

She wore a white blouse that hung well on her figure, along with a brown vest. The leather breeches were loose enough to provide freedom of movement and comfort, but hugged just tight enough to show off those curves.

"Well, let’s see." The shopkeeper said as he stuffed groceries into a burlap sack. "Your usual order plus the extra loaf of bread, jug of milk, and six eggs… It should come down to four gold and lunch tomorrow."

The woman smiled good-naturedly and reached into a pouch hanging from her belt.

"Four gold," She counted out the crudely minted coins that displayed a griffin stamped on both sides of each. "Plus six silver for being so persistent."

The man behind the oak counter frowned, but took the coins anyway.

"My mother always said that the first losers were the ones who quit."

"Your mother sounds wise to me, but she really should--. Hold on! What’s that?"

Her eyes were drawn to something on Glif’s wrist. The item in question was black and made of some material that she had never encountered before. It’s center held some kind of gray patch that appeared to be covered in glass. Within that gray patch could be seen black numerals that shifted as if with each passing moment.

"This?" Glif noted his customer’s sudden interest and took a certain enjoyment in having the woman’s full attention. "It looks like a bracelet to me, Sera. It was given to me by a cousin who came to visit last season. Like it?"

"I’ve seen nothing like it in my life." The woman called Sera admitted in awe. "What makes those number change?"

"I do believe it’s magic. At least that’s the only explanation I can come up with."

"I hate to disappoint you." Said the man from behind the shelves. His robes fluttered about him as he stepped over to the counter. His face showed the relation between him and the woman standing across from the storekeeper. "But I’m sensing about as much magic from that bauble you wear as the cheese you keep on the bottom shelves."

"You can just tell that by looking at it?" Glif asked.

"Not even looking." The mage said. "Sensing magic becomes second nature to us. If it were truly enchanted, I would have felt something before even walking through the door."

The storekeeper gave his bracelet a look of disdain at the knowledge that it wasn’t magic. He had been hoping it would make some kind of positive impression with Sera.

"Though, I must say." Continued the robed man, taking detailed observation of Glif’s displayed wrist. "I can’t say what the hell’s making its surface change like that. It’s definitely not magic. I can say that much."

"Something other than magic, huh?" Glif’s face brightened a bit at the prospect of owning such a unique item.

"Where’d your cousin pick that up?" Sera asked.

"Old Orth was always a weird one in the family. He’s something of a wanderer, and you know how those kind of folks come back with all kinds of stories."

"I happen to be one of those folks." Sera stated. "And so is Kirn here."

"Oh!" Glif quickly apologized. "I didn’t mean that to apply to all those folks. I’m sure you’re both exceptions to the rule."

"It’s okay." Sera said. "You really should learn not to panic so easily."

"Yeah, uh… panic."

Sera could detect the unease in the keeper’s demeanor and decided to take the pressure off him by going back to the cousin.

"This cousin, you called him Orth?"

"Yeah, Orth Ethern’s his name. He said that he got this from a dragon’s hoard."

"What? That’s a little hard to swallow if you don’t mind my saying." Sera had heard enough bedtime stories in her life to know the difference between reality and flights of fancy.

"I know. Maybe he was drunk when he talked about it. Orth has been hitting the sauce a little heavily as of late. But that’s what he told me. He said that he stumbled in one night and found this bracelet there."

"It does sound fascinating." Sera said. "I’d like to meet this cousin of yours sometime."

Glif shrugged his shoulders at the mention of that.

"He doesn’t come to visit too often. He spends a lot of his time in Willowleaf."

"Where that goblin raid went on a few years back?" Kirn asked.

"The place is really on the mend. Orth joined the militia to help the people there recover."

Sera cast a look out the window to the setting sun.

"Hmm… You’ve certainly gotten a hold of my attention, Glif. Though we should really be on our way." She said. "It’ll be dark soon, and we’ve got a load to get home."

"Oh, of course." Glif responded. "I’ve probably kept you here too long with this little story."

"No, it was quite enjoyable." Sera insisted as she carefully took one of the sacks from the counter and slung it over her shoulder. "We’ll see you next time."

"Until then." Glif grinned.

Kirn took the two remaining two sacks, one in each hand.

Sera was the first one out the door. As her brother followed her out, he caught the open door with his foot and pulled it closed effortlessly.

Outside, a simple dirt road ran along the front of the store. A horse-drawn wagon was rolling away, its wheels turning noisily in the ruts in the street. Wooden and brick houses stood at irregular intervals along the road with windows lit by candles and oil lanterns.

"He likes you." Kirn commented as they started walking to Sera’s house.

"Not my type." Sera said. "Besides, I don’t like it when a guy throws himself at me. It means he’s trying too hard."

"From what I’ve witnessed so far in visiting you, that doesn’t leave much for you choose from."

Indeed, that much was true. Men did tend to act a bit forward when around the young woman. Their directness had been an annoyance on more than one occasion.

"At least I don’t go dashing through every open bedroom door I see." Chew on that one for a while, you robed idiot. Sera laughed inwardly. Kirn always did have the habit of going after another notch to put on his bedpost.

"I’m just living life to the fullest." The wizard replied defensively.

"I’d say your living is starting to overflow."

The classic bickering among siblings was universal, even on the distant world of Neddel. While the two got along well enough, they always had issues that were never truly resolved. It always started like this.

Kirn would begin with a quip on Sera’s numerous admirers. His sister would then counter with something about his often criticized social habits. They continued like this all the way to Sera’s house. And by that point, they touched upon the inevitable topic of how Kirn disapproved of Sera’s source of income.

"And don’t think I don’t know what’s on your mind right now." The mage vented angrily.

Sera’s house was well within sight as the two of them went on in their argument.

"What are you talking about?" Sera said at her brother’s indignity. "You think you can read me that easily?"

"Yes. I saw that look you got once you heard that Glif’s bracelet back there came from a dragon’s hoard."

"Oh come on, Kirn!" Sera nearly laughed as she opened the archaic door to the brown brick house.

The door led straight to Sera’s kitchen, which housed a brick oven that the home’s occupant rarely used. They set their sacks on the hand-made, wooden table and began to unload the groceries.

"Dragons?" She continued. "The town elder here is calling this the Age of Enlightenment. The elves are coming out of the woods left and right. They’re talking about opening trade because they no longer believe humans are the devils their ancestors painted us to be. Rumors are even going about that the goblins are trying to band together to form some kind of civilization instead of being small packs of bandits. People are being disillusioned, and here you are talking about old fairy tales."

"I never said anything about the dragon being real, and you know I’m one of the last people to take such stories seriously. What I’m talking about is that while there are no such things, you still think there may be more strange items where that bracelet came from."

"Don’t go there, Kirn!" Sera threatened, but then her tone went softer at seeing the hurt look on her brother’s face. "We don’t see each other often, and I don’t want us to part after saying anything we might regret."

"The reason I bring it up is because I worry about you." The mage said sincerely. "I told Mother I’d check up on you from time to time."

"And you’re doing an admirable job." Sera added. "Just don’t overdo it."

"You’ve got this problem with getting into trouble, is what I’m aiming at. Thieving is not what I’d call a safe occupation."

"That’s behind me." Sera defended herself. "It’s been behind me for years now. I’m more of a--."

"Treasure hunter, I know. You use the title all the time, not that I agree with it."

"Lighten up. I’m just keeping alive a dying art. The days of the wandering adventurers are coming to an end. All the real adventurers have joined the militias where it’s safer and they get a steady pay. You yourself said that the last time you visited the Spirits, they were working on using spells to map all of Neddel. This world’s questing days are numbered, and I’m taking what’s left before it’s lost."

"You always liked to romanticize your outings." Kirn smiled. "And I know the minute I turn my back, you’ll be on your way to Willowleaf."

"So what if I pay a visit to, what was his name? Orth Ethern? I’d just like to say hello and ask him a few questions. If he’s gone to see a friend in the bottle, as the old saying goes, I’ll just have to forget the whole thing and come home. But if there’s some truth to what he has to say, then he probably found something other than a dragon’s hoard."

"Like what?" Kirn crossed his arms.

"That’s what I want to find out."

"So when do you plan to leave?"

"Don’t tell me you’re concerned over me seeing one of Glif’s liquored-up relatives." Sera said.

"There’s safety in numbers." Kirn reasoned. All in all, he was worried about Sera. He remembered having to bail his sister out in the past when her ventures turned sour.

"Fine." Sera finally agreed. "How does the day after tomorrow sound to you?"

"Not a problem for me."

Both of them had lived their lives in constant travel, so the idea of a trip to Willowleaf was no large matter to either. Kirn was often on the road making his living as an entertainer. His magic always attracted an audience for whom he was willing to perform.

"By the way," Kirn said. "That one neighbor you introduced me to yesterday."

"What about her?"

"Is she married?"

"Engaged, so don’t bother."

Kirn looked down at the floor in a mockery of disappointment, then suddenly looked up with a grin on his face.

"When’s the wedding day?"

"The end of the season."

The mage’s grin went immediately to a leer.

"Then I’ll still have plenty of time after we get back."

Sera snatched up one of the newly bought loaves of bread and chucked it at her brother.

Kirn caught the flying loaf just in time to see Sera scowling at him.

"You’re the worst."

The wizard merely nodded proudly and smiled.

"Don’t worry." Kirn laughed as he set the loaf back on the table. "I learned my lesson with a blacksmith’s fiancé five years ago. You really should have been there to see it. I almost found out what else anvils could be used for, not that I wanted to know in the first place."

Sera’s scowl broke into a good-humored smile of smile of her own, and the two went back to putting away the groceries.

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