Lucas is almost to Wolf's Landing, Selene reports, my ever-dutiful link to the pack since I can't hear them myself. He sounds exhausted.
"I'm sure he is."
I trudge through the snow, each step a battle against the elents. The white expanse stretches before , sotis reaching my waist.
"Damn it," I mutter, yanking my foot free from a particularly deep drift. "We really need to invest in so snowshoes."
Ahead of , my bodyguards forge a path in their wolf forms. Their massive paws act as natural snowshoes, distributing their weight and making it easier for them to navigate the treacherous terrain. I envy their effortless grace as I stumble along behind them.
Without them breaking the trail, it would be even worse.
We're approaching the first ward, Selene encourages . We've made better ti than I expected.
I nod, focusing on the task at hand. The wards are a crucial part of our defense, and maintaining them has beco a significant part of my duties as Luna. It's ti-consuming work, but necessary. Especially now, with the recent blizzard potentially compromising their integrity.
"Grimoire," I call out, my voice muffled by the thick scarf wrapped around my face. "Any signs of damage?"
The magical to materializes beside , taking the form of a silver fox. His fur shimrs against the white snow.
Not that I can sense. Rember that while a strong storm can wipe out the energy signature of a weak ward, it isn't common when they are properly maintained. I still think you're being overly cautious.
"I'm not taking chances. Not with the pack's safety."
Your caution is comndable, though we might all freeze to death.
I can feel the first ward before long, a tingling sensation that dances across my skin, even beneath the layers of fur fashioned into a coat, courtesy of our hunters. As we draw closer, I extend my senses, probing the magical barrier for any signs of weakness or decay.
To my relief, the ward seems intact. Its energy pulses steadily, a testant to the care and attention I've poured into it. But there's always room for improvent.
"I want to strengthen the obfuscation elent," I tell Grimoire, who's bounding through the snow as if he's a pup himself. "Make it harder for those taint-touched wolves to find us. Or anything else that might be out there."
Grimoire pauses in his joyous bounding. A wise precaution.
It's surprisingly easy to reinforce obfuscation wards. It's an additional one, not part of the main security system, and simpler than you'd think.
After lting an area of snow, thanks to a bit of summoned fire, I simply draw a simple glyph into the ground and infuse it with magic.
Legend—well, Grimoire—states that this rune was created by one of the Fae gods, though he admits the history is a little fuzzy, even to him. Despite his longevity, he technically only ca into power when created.
It's all very mystical and strange, and apparently the concept of ti back then was quite fluid to his senses. Grimoire's very existence is remarkable, sothing us re mortals can't truly fathom.
More than a book, but not any sort of god, and not even really a person.
Power flows from into the ward, guided by my will and Grimoire's quiet instructions. The cold fades away, replaced by the warmth of my magic.
Rember to keep your instructions at the forefront of your mind. This glyph will absorb its instructions from you and act accordingly. It is very simplistic in that aspect.
Finally, I open my eyes, swaying slightly; my balance is off now that my focus is back in my physical body. Following magical currents leaves a little dizzy.
One of my bodyguards—pretty sure it's Marcus—steadies with his massive furry body.
"Thanks," I murmur, patting his flank. To Grimoire, I ask, "How's it look?"
The magical fox circles the area, his nose twitching as he assesses my work. The obfuscation elent is significantly stronger. It should prove quite challenging for any unwanted visitors to penetrate. It's a little shaky, but I think it should do as you want.
"Good. But we're not done yet. How many more wards do we need to check today?"
Three more on this patrol route.
We set off again, the wolves breaking trail as before. The going is a little easier this ti. The wolves guarding also seem to have perfected how they break the trail for , leaving a flatter path. On the other hand, the wind has picked up, driving bits of ice into any exposed skin.
As we approach the second ward, I steel myself for another round of magical exertion. The fatigue from reinforcing the first ward lingers, a dull ache behind my eyes, but I push it aside. There's work to be done.
This ward feels different from the first—not weaker, exactly, but less stable. The energy fluctuates in a way that sets my teeth on edge. It's jarring.
"Grimoire," I call out, "are you sensing this?"
Indeed. It seems the storm has had so effect on this one. Not catastrophic, but certainly in need of attention.
I nod, already reaching out with my magic to assess the damage. It's my first ti touching a damaged ward, but sohow it all maps out in my head. I've created enough of them. It's easy to narrow down the areas of instability.
It's going to take more work to fix this one.
The best way to describe it is—I don't know. Weaving, I guess, though I'm not an expert. Back and forth, in careful layers of magic, creating little patches of stability where damage has torn away at the ward.
By the ti I'm done, you can't even see where the damage was. It all lts into the ward, leaving it as pristine as the day I created it.
When I finally open my eyes, the world spins for a mont before settling.
Marcus nudges at my elbow with a whine.
He wants to know if you want to return. He's worried you're pushing too hard today.
"I'm okay. There's two more left. Let's keep moving."
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