Echoes of Asphodel

Chapter 2 - The Mage and the Healer

Thok.

The wood-and-canvas target shook as the thick iron bolt hit it and stuck fast.

A solid hit, but further from the center than June would have liked.

She wound her throwing arm in a circle, drawing another bolt from the bandolier hanging over her shoulder. Ordinarily, she'd use her crossbow for this–one of the few belongings she had smuggled to the Reach from her past life–but her bolts were custom-made to be usable as throwing darts. Her bow was larger than the average model; she couldn't carry it everywhere.

"Have you considered redirecting those?" a voice called from behind her, as its owner lazily made his way down a flight of wooden stairs. The range was empty at this time of day, so it was as good a place as any for sensitive conversation.

She turned and regarded Jasper Virnwath with a raised eyebrow.

"We've had this conversation a thousand times," she replied. "You keep expecting a different answer."

"The worst that could happen is you accidentally blow something over," he protested, running a hand through his curly, auburn hair. "A little wind isn't going to kill you."

June wound back the bolt and sent it hurtling across the range, striking the target just off-center. She exhaled softly.

Jasper was also a mage, a surface dweller trained in the difficult art of weaving raw magical energy into elemental forms. They had this rare thing in common, but always found ways to disagree over it–mostly because June did not weave at all.

Her connection wasn't weak, but it was dangerously unstable. Her training had been cut short when she'd fled to the care of the Scavengers, and she had not dared continue it on her own for fear of slipping up and getting herself killed. Magic was not to be treated lightly.

On the other hand, Jasper had managed to master his magic before joining the archivists and did not understand–as he often stated–why June would not use her own.

He wielded flame, and bore the tall, black horns of the fire-weavers with pride.

June's horns were stunted for her age and swept back over her scalp much the same as Pelian's–a lingering reminder of her once-affinity with the wind.

While it was true that wind-weaving on its own couldn't cause her to spontaneously combust, June did not trust her magic to obey that limitation.

"I didn't ask you here to chide me on my aim, Jas. Pelian found us a potential location for our...target...and I wanted your opinion on if it's worth checking out."

"A potential location?" he asked, perking up.

Pelian, from her place near the stairs, raised her head from her second nap of the day and nodded.

"June thinks the wreck might have teeth," she grinned, stretching out her back.

"I'm just being cautious."

"She doesn't want it to bite us."

"Pel."

The dragon cackled softly, rolling over onto her back.

Jasper, perhaps to his credit, ignored her entirely and had already taken out a notepad.

"Potential...location," he repeated, scribbling. "And...yes. Probably a reason for it being in the restri- those archives. Though it wasn't stated on the bounty, right?"

"The bounty was blank," June reminded him.

"Right. Hence our interest."

"So do you think we should go looking for it?"