Chương 9

The next morning, Noah found himself back on the forest path leading to the tower. Fortunately, he wasn't alone this time. Ciri walked ahead of him, clad once more in her trench coat. Cael kept pace on his left, Hruk padded along on his right, and Bryn followed close behind. Based on the way they'd naturally arranged themselves around him as they left the village, Noah suspected they were all thinking the same thing—that he'd be nervous about returning to the woods where he'd nearly died just days ago.

To be fair, they're not wrong, he admitted. As they walked, however, he found himself gradually relaxing. Talking with them about their various journeys through the surrounding forest eased his anxiety, to the point that he'd stopped reaching for his knife every time a shadow shifted in the corner of his eye. It helped, too, that Ciri had shown him the magical protection she wore.

"It's a simple warding spell," she explained, holding out her silver necklace.

"Identical to the ones that keep forest creatures away from our home. I cast it on this every time I travel through the woods."

"And it scares them off?" Noah asked.

"Not precisely," she replied.

"It creates a strong compulsion to turn around and walk away before they get too close."

"Ah. Much more humane." He nodded.

"Does it work on all creatures? Bugs, mammals, reptiles, birds?"

"Yes, but some creatures will respond faster than others." At least I don't have to worry about mosquitos here. He thought before processing the rest of his thoughts aloud.

"If it works like the wards around your home, it only affects non‑sapient creatures—which explains why I don't feel anything right now."

"Exactly," she said, a faint smile flickering across her face before she quickly suppressed it. She's still upset about the fact that I'm leaving. She hasn't looked at me the same since the funeral.

"And the fact that he was redeemed at the end? Fantastic," Cael said, snapping Noah back to the present.

"Far better than any theory I came up with."

"I'm glad you liked it," Noah replied.

"I like that he finally knows the ending and can stop guessing," Bryn added with a chuckle from behind them.

"I've got more stories," Noah said.

"I'm sure we can work out some kind of trade. One story for one rune, maybe."

"As long as you finish them," Bryn said.

"If you disappear without giving him the ending, I'm not helping you with those crossbows." Ciri stiffened slightly at that, though no one but Noah seemed to notice.

"I can agree to those terms," Noah said. I should say something to her once we reach the tower.

"So, Ciri," Bryn said.

"How are Noah's lessons going? Can he speak Fae yet? Or Common?"

"He absorbs information quickly and has an analytical mind," Ciri replied.

"If he continues at this pace, he'll be able to hold simple conversations within a week. More complex ones will take longer."

"That's high praise, coming from her," Cael joked.

"Careful, Noah," Bryn added.

"I think she might have feelings for you." Though she kept her gaze fixed forward, the tips of Ciri's ears turned crimson. Noah shook his head.

"Come on—don't tease her."

"Oh‑ho!" Bryn laughed.

"And he might have feelings for her too!" Noah rolled his eyes as Ciri quickened her pace. He bent down to scratch behind Hruk's ears.

"At least you're on my side, right, buddy?" The guard dog barked happily in reply, drawing a sigh from Bryn.

"Betrayed by my own dog." She said, shaking her bald head dramatically.

"They are man's best friend," Noah countered, doing his best to change the subject.

"Are they now? The human trader never told me that."

"Never trust a trader," Cael muttered under his breath.

"Hang on." Noah held up one hand.

"How come Ciri's spell doesn't affect him and send him running into the bushes?"

"Simple. I trained him to ignore it," Bryn said proudly.

"Ciri cast the spell on me everyday for a whole week, then I'd hold Hruk and feed him so he knew he was safe with me. By the end he could stay with me through it, no problem." Exposure therapy. Noah thought to himself. Clever trick. And I guess it means that this kind of magic isn't infallible – it just takes a strong enough will to overcome it. The five of them fell silent for several long moments until they emerged into a familiar-looking meadow.

Noah stopped dead as he looked up at the stone tower in front of him, memories of his escape washing over him. In his mind, he saw the tree monsters and dragonfly creatures surrounding him, tearing him to pieces. That was, until Bryn crashed into him from behind and nearly knocked him over.

"Oof! What'd you do that for?" she shouted.

"Sorry," he said.

"I was just… lost in thought. Come on, let's go." Despite his trepidation, the trip across the field and up the tower passed without incident. Soon, he found himself back in the room he'd woken up in only a few days ago—complete with his survival gear still stacked in the corner. With the benefit of the knowledge he now possessed, however, he looked at the space with new eyes. Even before Cael could start his work, Noah's gaze was drawn to the etchings on the floor, now recognizing them for what they were.

"These are runes," he said, pointing.

"Yes," Cael replied, placing his backpack down and beginning to remove his supplies.

"They're, uh… big. A lot bigger than the ones on paper."

"Your powers of observation are astounding," Cael said dryly. Noah rolled his eyes.

"Does size matter?"

"In runes? No," Cael replied.

"In other matters? Perhaps," Bryn added with a lascivious grin, causing Ciri to furrow her brow in confusion. Undeterred, Noah continued.

"So what do these runes do?"

"Nobody knows," Cael answered.

"Really?" Noah said incredulously.

"It is a matter of some debate among generations of scholars," Ciri said.

"The shared consensus is that they are part of a spell of considerable power. The exact effects of that spell are unknown, however." Noah absorbed this slowly.

"The problem is that you can't test it. Because if you tried to cast it without knowing what it did—""You would become Corrupted. Yes," Ciri finished. He squinted at the runes as Cael pulled out a pillow, a small folding table, and a book.

"Do the runes have any sort of logic to them? Maybe the spell shares sections with other spells—something you could reason your way through?" This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

"No," Ciri said.

"Unfortunately, relatively few rune records survived the Schism. Those that did are not sufficient to translate the runes. Generations of scholars in our tribe have tried, with no success."

"Huh." Noah shook his head.

"Maybe someone outside the tribe has already figured it out?" He held up a hand quickly.

"Not that you haven't tried hard enough—I'm positive you have—but maybe they had access to different reference material?"

"We'd have heard about it," Bryn said.

"Even out here on the frontier, that'd be big news." Unwilling to give up, Noah tried another angle.

"Okay, what about ruins? Given the state of the buildings in your village, something must've survived. There could be runes, books, other records—maybe even something that explains exactly what these do."

"I agree," Ciri said, a small smile tugging at her lips before she suppressed it.

"I have visited many ruins referenced in the archives. Most were empty, but occasionally I recovered something of value. We keep them in the archives, as well as any artifacts we find on the second level."

"Visiting ruins is dangerous," Bryn warned.

"Hunting ancient Fae treasure has killed more than one adventurer."

"Are you ready to move on to more practical matters?" Cael asked, cutting in.

"Or would you like to continue to entertain summer thoughts in winter?"

"Right. Yeah, okay," Noah said, shoving aside the part of his mind still trying to unravel the generational mystery of the runes beneath his feet.

"So. Show me how to do magic." Cael rolled his eyes again and produced a strange-looking grey pen from his pocket.

"This is a writ." He said as he handed it to him.

"It looks like a pen." Noah remarked, feeling the weight in his hand before giving it back. Bryn snorted as Cael replied, "You'd do well not to call it that. A scribe's writ is a powerful artifact passed down from the ancient Fae. We don't even know how to make more." A lightbulb went off in Noah's mind.

"It's the pen you use to write runes. With your blood."

"Precisely. Now, watch closely." Cael unscrewed the top of the pen. With practiced motions, he reached into an ornamental case and withdrew a short, thin needle. He slotted it into a holder inside the pen and secured it with a twist of a tiny bolt. Then he pricked his finger, drawing a few drops of blood. Noah watched, fascinated, as the red liquid slowly traveled down the needle into what he assumed was the ink well.

Cael wrapped his finger in a cloth, then removed the needle, opened a metal container from the case, and dropped it inside. It's a needle disposal, Noah realized. They take medical sanitation seriously here.

"There we go," Cael said, unwrapping his finger to show the wound had already slowed to a stop.

"Once this finishes, we can begin."

"That… wasn't very much blood," Noah noted.

"What, did you expect me to lop off a finger?" Cael asked.

"No, I just… how many spells can you write with that much?"

"Three or four, depending on complexity."

"That seems impossible, given how much 'ink' you put in."

"That's the magic of the writ." Cael checked his finger again.

"We're almost ready. I'm starting with the language comprehension spell. Grab some paper and a pencil from my bag and sit beside me. You can copy my movements to learn the rune. Once we're done I'll take the runes and glue them one by one into the grimoire." For the next hour, Noah sat beside the smaller Fae man, doing his best to mimic each stroke. It was difficult, tedious work—Cael relied on precise muscle memory and struggled to articulate what he was doing.

The rune was intricate, and the consequences of a mistake were severe, so Noah couldn't ask him to pause mid-writing. Eventually, though, the practice began to pay off.

"Good. Your third attempt is slightly unbalanced on the right, but minor imperfections like that won't cause Corruption," Cael said, his finger wrapped again as he examined Noah's work.

"It will affect efficiency, though, so strive for perfection."

"Thanks. Noted," Noah said.

"We should take a break," Cael announced.

"Where are Bryn and Ciri?"

"Outside. Ciri's at the base of the tower, I think. Bryn's patrolling the perimeter with Hruk." Noah paused.

"At least, that's what they said when they left half an hour ago."

"Did they? I didn't notice."

"I don't blame you. You needed to focus." Cael smiled and pulled out what looked like a sandwich.

"Hungry? I always eat and rest between sessions. Keeps my mind sharp."

"I'm okay, thanks." Noah stood.

"I'm going to stretch my legs."

"Understood. I'm planning to start again in about thirty minutes." He gestured to the stack of papers tucked safely into his bag.

"We're making good progress, but there's still more to cover, and I'd rather not be here after sundown."

"That makes two of us," Noah said with a grin.

"I'll be back before you start."

"Please do. We're doing the healing rune next—something I suspect you'll need on your journey."

"Hopefully not too often!" Noah chuckled as he stepped outside. He spotted Bryn pacing the clearing and waved before heading down the staircase. At the bottom, he found Ciri sitting on the last step, unsurprisingly absorbed in a book. The sight of her tugged at the memory of how she'd been acting since the funeral, and guilt tightened in his chest. Decision made, he cleared his throat.

"Hey." She jolted upright and turned toward him.

"Oh. Hello," she said placidly.

"I did not hear you coming. Is Cael finished?"

"He's taking a break." Noah hesitated.

"Listen… can we talk about something?"

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked, wary.

"I can't help noticing you get sad whenever someone mentions me leaving to look for my brother. And more than that, it feels like you're trying to… I don't know, put up an emotional wall between us."

"Why would you think that?" she asked, a defensive edge creeping in.

"After the attack, it seemed like you wanted to be… closer. You smiled at me, you seemed happy to see me. Since the funeral, I've seen glimpses of that same person, but now it feels like you're fighting it."

"For someone I have only known for days, you have very strong opinions about my behaviors," she retorted, almost angry.

"Look, if I'm wrong, tell me and I'll drop it. I just don't want misunderstandings between us." She went quiet for a long moment, shoulders slumping as she stared ahead.

"You are… not wrong."

"Then tell me. Is it because you know I'm leaving?"

"Yes. No. I do not…" She shook her head.

"I am not experienced with these emotions."

"Take your time," Noah said, sitting beside her on the stairs.

"We're friends. Whatever you need to say, I'll listen." She paused, then spoke in a whisper.

"Could you…cover your eyes? At least to start?" Knowing that she'd picked up the trick from him, he did as she asked.

"There."

"I have struggled with 'making friends' since I was a child. I was always different, and others did not enjoy my company. I found comfort in scholarly pursuits." She fiddled with her necklace.

"Then you arrived. You wanted to be my friend. You are kind and intelligent and take an interest in me. But I know you will leave me, just like the rest."

"Ciri, I—""I cannot blame you." She cut him off.

"I will not begrudge your search for your brother. Asking you to stay would be unfair. That is why I must guard myself. Allowing myself to feel these things only for you to leave will cause emotional pain. The kind of pain I am least prepared for." Noah opened his eyes and reached out before gently taking her hand and locking eyes with her.

"Ciri. Yes, I'm leaving. But I'm coming back."

"You…" She frowned, but didn't pull away.

"I'm coming back," he repeated, firmer this time.

"I know I've only been here a few days, but you've become a good friend. I like being around you. And once I find my idiot brother, I'm going to want to come back and spend more time with you."

"But… if you find your brother, won't you want to return to your own realm?" Ah. So that's what this is about. He thought.

"Maybe. But if that happens, you could come with me. Think about it—you'd get to study my world firsthand. You'd be the first Fae scholar in, what, a few thousand years to travel to a new world?"

"I… oh." Her eyes widened.

"I did not consider that possibility. But how would we return here?"

"We'll figure it out. You're probably the smartest person I've ever met, and I'm a decent problem solver. Together we'll find a way."

"We should determine how to return before we leave. Ideally," she said, squeezing his hand. Noah chuckled.

"Okay. Deal. We'll do that first."

"It will still be difficult to be apart while you search for your brother," she insisted.

"It could take years. This realm is vast."

"I'll visit regularly. Or write you letters. Or…" He paused as a thought struck him.

"Is there a magical way to communicate instantly across distances?"

"What do you mean?"

"In my world we have these small devices." He said, approximating the size of a phone with his free hand.

"Two people can use them to see and talk to each other through a little window, no matter how far apart they are. Oceans, continents, the whole world. Is there a magical equivalent?" She squeezed his hand tighter.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"It is… complicated. I will show you when we return to town. But it may be possible."

"So what I'm hearing is we've got a few months to get to know each other better and figure out this long-distance thing."

"When you describe it that way, it feels childish to guard my emotions. If anything, I should be more open, so we have a stronger emotional base when you are traveling."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You were trying to protect your feelings." She looked away, silent for a full minute. Then: "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Putting in this effort. I know I am… difficult emotionally."

"We're friends, remember? It's what friends do." he started before blurting, "And some part of me hopes you might be open to more. No pressure though."

"You… I… what?" she sputtered, staring at him in shock. Cat's out of the bag. Might as well go all in. He thought.

"It's probably too early to know for sure, but do you remember when we were in the forest and Bryn and Cael teased us about having feelings for each other?"

"Yes." She said, mouth still slightly ajar.

"Well, they're not wrong. I'm not saying I have romantic feelings for you, but I uh… definitely don't not have romantic feelings for you." He scratched the back of his head.

"Shit, I'm bad at this too, aren't I?"

"Yes," she said flatly. He laughed.

"Okay, fine. Let's just say I'm… interested. In you. Potentially romantically. But we'd need to know each other better to see if there's something real. Does that make sense?"

"It does," she murmured, looking away again. He gave her a moment before nudging her with his elbow.

"This is the part where you say whether you're also interested. Because if you're not, I'll drop it and we can stay platonic. I promise it won't affect our friendship."

"I want that," she said instantly.

"Wait. No. I meant—ugh!" She let out a very un‑Ciri‑like grunt of frustration. Noah blinked.

"Let's try that again."

"Yes," she said after a long, deep breath.

"I find myself increasingly aware of you in ways I cannot categorize. When we are together, my attention appears to be disproportionately directed towards you. I would like to explore those feelings further together." Noah's heart soared as he absorbed her heartfelt compliment.

"That makes me really happy. Why don't we—" Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Bryn's shout:"Get into the tower, now!"