The green leaves wilted, darkened, then stiffened as color drained from them. The pot cracked, and from within rose a small boulder, roughly the size of a melon. It shook once, twice, then unfolded stubby limbs and gave a gravelly chirp.
It waved at me.
She turned back, eyes shining, utterly delighted. "Observe! This is Durand. Each summon requires a humble plant. Do extend your greetings to the noble gentleman over there, Durand!"
The stone gnome-thing lifted a stubby arm, bending at a clumsy angle, and wiggled the rock-tips of its fingers.
I stared at the waving rock construct. That's not necromancy. That's just... turning plants into stone.
Her eyes sparkled even brighter, and she bounced on the balls of her feet. "By employing these modest botanicals as a form of arcane sustenance, the enchantment fortifies itself, molding the very essence into a structure both more resilient and exquisitely enduring. But oh, oh! I'm determined to refine my spellform even further!" she exclaimed, voice tumbling over itself. "Soon, I'll be able to petrify all sorts of dungeon slimes into perfectly formed little constructs! I have yet been allowed to experience dungeons for myself, but I am carefully cultivating my practical acumen through measured experimentation in the field."
"Slimes?" I said. Slimes are perfect. I can actually deal with slimes. Nonetheless, Ceralis made the single word drip with disdain.
"Yes, slimes." Her voice deflated. "Although... I daresay such humble creatures are scarcely worthy of a warrior as formidable as yourself, good Sir."
"So you require slimes," I said slowly, "for your... stone construct summoning experiments."
She brightened immediately. "Precisely! Not only slimes, but also moss-beasts, creeping root-things, calcified worms, petrifiable fungi, animated loam, and—should circumstances allow—minor oozes with sufficient mineral content. Oh! And I've theorized that certain cave fish might yield remarkably expressive constructs if properly desiccated first." She paused, then smiled again, unabashed. "But slimes would do! Slimes would do beautifully."
Hold on.
Pieces began to fall into place. She wasn't allowed into dungeons yet, by her own admission. Her manner, her exuberance, the way she spoke of refining spellforms: she wasn't a full thaumaturge at all. She was a mage-in-training. And she was clearly looking for someone with field experience to escort her. The reason she disguised as a commoner was unknown, but unimportant.
And given how Ceralis had warped my speech into a series of death threats laced with mystic insight, she probably thought I was that someone.
A veteran of tombs and cursed ruins.
Which meant—
If I played along, I might actually gain something from this arrangement.
All I had to do was pretend to be a powerful, unflappable warrior... while fighting slimes.
Slimes.
I could handle slimes.
But I needed to know what my Pathway would gain me before I committed.
"Then," I said carefully, "are you a thaumaturge in training? Speak now before I lose interest."
She clasped her hands together as though I'd just divined a great secret. "I can never seem to hide anything from you, good Ser!" she said, voice bright with delighted surrender. "Yes—Earth-inclined, though I fear it sounds terribly provincial compared to the grander arts. But I assure you, my practice is anything but dull! I have cultivated formulae you might never have seen before! Or perhaps you have! A man of your bearing must have witnessed far stranger manifestations in his storied life."
My voice deepened of its own accord. "Then you would know better than to hide your name from me, young thaumaturge."
Her composure faltered for only a heartbeat before she straightened. Her chin lifted in something close to admiration as she declared, "Anabeth."
"And your surname?" I prompted.
Anabeth's lips curved into a sly, almost conspiratorial smile. "Ah, a lady must keep some secrets to herself, my good sir. Also, should you discover my full name, you would be obliged to return me to my family, and they would see fit to chastise me most severely."
"How long have you been away from home?"
"Oh... it's of little consequence. A fortnight, perhaps a month. It hardly matters." She waved a delicate hand. "What truly matters is if you would oblige a poor magus and lend me a portion of your company?"
She's been on a run for weeks? Maybe she's a criminal. My mind reeled. She tilted her head, cheeks puffed in a mischievous little grin, her cherubic eyes dared me to take her seriously. She looks like a deranged criminal. I am not dealing with criminals.
[TASK: Name of the Earth-Touched — COMPLETED]
[Boon Unlocked: Path of the Earthen Aegis — Potential to resonate with ambient aether and channel it into armor, armaments, and other artifacts. RES gain now possible whenever accompanied by Anabeth.]
I stared at the text as it hovered in the air. Channel aether... into my armor... into my weapons... after twenty-seven years of empty hands and wasted breath, this was the reward?
This was great. It was not rebuilding the Order. But it could come close.
If I had power, then people would remember. They would remember what knights were. If I could clad my body in aether, turn the very earth into plate and blade, then no one could call me obsolete again. They would look upon me and know: this is what knighthood meant before the Orders fell. Strength commands respect; respect breeds followers; followers build Orders.
I would not be the knight who served mages. I would become the knight whose magic outshone them.
"I will rend every slime that crosses our path until none remain," I declared.
She grinned, wide and all dimples, and for a breath she looked at me with such earnest innocence I almost believed she'd never so much as pocketed a penny in her life.
How could a girl like this possibly be a criminal?