[Sedintal Recall Complete.]
[Result: Imprinted Terracotta (Composite). Primary Composition: Fired clay infused with stratonite microcrystals.]
[Imprint Retrieved: ‘Ceremonial Offering – Pre-Order Era.’]
[Estimated Historical Depth: ~680–720 years.]
Fabrisse had been worried that he’d fail the analysis, which would lead to at least ten more awkward minutes of trying to see if he could scan it again, but it didn’t happen.
“It’s real,” Fabrisse said. “Pre-Order period. The glaze is stratonite. That’s what gives it that bluish resonance.”
Arin’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious?”
“I could send the sample to Exemplar Konan for further testing to assure the accuracy, but I believe my technique provides an adequate preliminary analysis.”
[Sidequest Complete: The Earthen Appraiser (1)]
Reward: 15% Progress for Sedintal Recall (Rank II)
55 EXP
Arin let out a slow breath, still half laughing, half stunned. “You just saved from a week of self-loathing and refund paperwork. Seriously, thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever t a student who can read clay like that.”
Fabrisse pursed his lips, not sure how to respond to praise that direct. “It’s just a technique. Earth resonance analysis.” And he obviously hadn’t t Anabeth von Silberthal then.
“Yeah, well, your ‘just a technique’ is better than my mother’s ‘just look at it’ technique,” Arin said, grinning. “Tell you what—if you ever want to make a bit of spare mark on the side, I’ve got a whole shelf of oddities waiting to be appraised. Pre-Order trinkets, cracked relic cores, maybe a cursed spoon or two. You na your price.”
“You’d pay ?”
“Of course. Consider it ‘hobby coin’,” Arin said. “A man’s got to fund his bad spending habits sohow, and you might as well benefit from mine.”
“I can only appraise earthenwork and stonework,” he admitted.
Arin waved a hand. “That’s more than good enough. If you can tell rock from rubbish, you’re already ahead of many collectors I know.”
Fabrisse wasn’t sure if that was ant as reassurance or confession. “I’ll . . . keep that in mind.”
“Do,” Arin said, grinning. “And if you ever get tired of classes, I’ve got plenty of bad purchases in need of an honest opinion.”
That earned a small, reluctant huff of amusent from Fabrisse before he rembered why he was there. “Actually,” he said, straightening a little, “I ca because of sothing else . . .”
Taken from , this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Arin replied, “I’ve figured. Is it an ergency? I guess not, since you wouldn’t have stopped to give a lecture on terracotta first.”
It’s kind of urgent . . . I just forgot about it . . .
“There’s an injured Aetherfawn outside of Synod. Liene Lugano found it near the leyline fold and asked to help. She’s stabilized it, but the fractures in its aether channels are spreading faster than expected.”
Arin frowned. “Liene Lugano, huh? Girl’s brighter than sunlight, always in three places at once. If she’s worried enough to send soone, it must be serious.”
Fabrisse nodded. “She said it’s not like normal aether corrosion. The pattern looks . . . torn and layered.”
Arin grabbed his satchel from the desk, checking for tools and chalk as he moved. “All right, that sounds bad enough to skip breakfast over. Where’s the creature now?”
“It’s in the lower grove by the valley.”
“Then let’s move.” Arin slung the strap over his shoulder, glancing back with a quick grin. “And hey—if I end up saving the thing, you can pay back in appraisals. Deal?”
“That’s not how transactions usually work.”
“Sure it is,” Arin said cheerfully, already pushing open the door. “You’ll learn. Co on, rock boy.”
They hurried out of the Recovery Wing, with Arin setting a brisk pace down the main corridor. They’d barely made it past the first stair landing when Fabrisse saw soone walking in the opposite direction, layered in a sweep of dark velvet trimd with the silver crest of the Thaumaturgical Honors Cohort beside her house crest. It was Severa Montreal, of course. She’d ntioned dungeoneering a few tis, so it wasn’t surprising to run into her here.
Her hair was pinned back in a careful cascade of auburn coils, and her makeup was . . . well, a lot. Heavy shadow around the eyes, bold enough to look intentional, and a deep crimson that turned her mouth into a statent rather than a feature. She looked, Fabrisse thought, like she’d been up all night and decided to disguise exhaustion with sheer commitnt.
Or maybe she just liked being extra. That seed equally plausible.
She looked up as they approached. “Good morning, Roa.”
Arin flashed a smile. “Morning. You look like you lost a duel with a coffee pot.” Fabrisse gulped. He would’ve been cut in half if he’d tried that line.
“I won it, thank you.” Severa then turned to Fabrisse. “Kestovar, this isn’t the way to the Fire Thaumaturgy practical field. Are you going to be there?”
“I, um . . . there’s been an ergency.”
“An ergency,” she repeated, drawing the word out just long enough to make it sound suspicious. “What kind of ergency are you conjuring up this ti, Kestovar?”
Fabrisse resisted the urge to shrink back. “It’s not . . . well, it’s not mine. There’s an injured Aetherfawn outside the Synod grounds. Liene Lugano found it. I’m taking Healer Rao to help.”
She frowned. “That creature should not exist within a hundred miles of the Synod. It should be in the woods.”
“Yes,” Fabrisse said, careful and precise. “Its aether pattern is fracturing. Liene asked for assistance.”
Severa looked ready to retort, but then she paused. “What do you an by fracturing aether pattern?” she asked instead.
Fabrisse hesitated, glancing briefly at Arin before answering. “The channel lines alongside the creature’s skin and antlers aren’t eroding but splitting. Like sothing pulled them apart from the inside. Liene said it looked layered, almost like overlapping fractures.”
That earned a sharp, thoughtful silence. Then Severa turned to Rao. “This kind of injury has been seen in dungeoneers recently. And now an Aetherfawn wanders to the Synod carrying the sa signature? You wouldn’t have thought of that as an urgent matter?”
Rao scratched the back of his head. “I—hadn’t connected the dots.”
“Sothing strange is happening,” Severa said quietly, though the edge in her voice made it sound more like a warning. “I will accompany you.”
“. . . Are you going to tell the Headmaster about this?” Fabrisse asked before he could stop himself. It wasn’t really his business, and he wasn’t supposed to know about Severa’s connection with Draeth. That was only what he’d deduced from listening to the imprinted rock inside the cave yesterday.
Severa squinted at him. “No. But I am going to inform soone. You should reach your ntor, or anyone you trust. Just for . . . contingencies.”
That sounded like trouble already.
[Ti Remaining: 1 Bell, 1 Minutes]
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