After the grueling battle with the owlbear, the party agreed to stop for the night. Despite their victory, the paladin, Aldric, was wounded, his holy aura now dim as it worked to heal the deep gashes the beast had left. Divine light pulsed gently from his arm, knitting torn flesh, mending blood vessels, and even restoring bone—a process visible to the naked eye.
"We should rest here for the night," Aldric said, his voice tight with the effort of suppressing the pain. His face was pale but composed, though the beads of sweat on his brow betrayed his discomfort. "I'll be healed in a few minutes, but healing injuries this severe takes a lot out of me."
Kael watched as the others moved to set up camp. Nyxara, was weaving protective wards around the perimeter, her fingers glowing with crackling energy. Lirael, was busy skinning and cleaning the owlbear, its massive form now lying motionless a few feet away. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do—everyone but Kael.
He hesitated for a moment before making his way to Aldric, whose shield lay discarded on the ground next to him. The leather strap, now completely shredded from the battle, had nearly cost the paladin his life. Without it, the shield had become useless at the worst possible moment. Kael knelt beside the holy warrior, inspecting the damaged strap.
"Mind if I take a look?" Kael asked, though he was already reaching for the shield.
Aldric raised an eyebrow but nodded, too tired to object. "Go ahead. Just don't expect miracles."
Kael smiled faintly. Miracles? No. But repairs? That, he could manage.
Ever since the fight with the owlbear, Kael's heart had been pounding in a way it never had before. Working in his father's tinker shop had always given him satisfaction, but this—being part of something larger, something dangerous—was thrilling. The adrenaline still surged through his veins, and the idea that his skills might be vital to the group's survival filled him with a sense of purpose.
"I've got to make myself useful," Kael muttered under his breath as he set to work.
The adventurers had gathered hides from previous kills, and Kael quickly selected a piece that was sturdy yet flexible. He began crafting a new strap, his fingers moving deftly as he cut and shaped the leather. Once the strap was ready, he noticed the holy runes etched along the edge of Aldric's buckler.
"Holy runes of the Church," Kael whispered, his eyes widening in fascination. He had only ever read about these in old books, but seeing them up close was something entirely different. These runes were complex, and intricate in their weave. Aldric's shield wasn't just any shield—it was a holy artifact, and repairing it wasn't as simple as replacing a strap.
Kael glanced around the camp. No one seemed to notice what he was doing, so he helped himself to the party's rudimentary enchanting supplies. There was an enchanter's quill, ink, and some tools for basic repairs, though it was clear no one in the group had the skills to use them properly.
Since they'd dragged him into this adventure, he figured he had every right to use their gear.
As Kael studied the runes, he found himself in uncharted territory. Runic inscription wasn't something a commoner like him had ever been trained in. It was a discipline reserved for nobles or those wealthy enough to afford the education and materials. The knowledge alone was worth mountains of gold, and those who could work with mana were rare and highly sought after.
But Kael had something most inscribers didn't—an affinity for spiritual essence. While runic magic was a form of mana manipulation, spiritual essence functioned differently. Mana was about creation, about imposing the user's will on the world to manifest elements like fire, water, earth, or wind. Spiritual essence, however, was a connection with the world around you, drawing on the natural energies that flowed through everything.
Kael's connection to spiritual essence gave him a unique perspective. He could see how the runes flowed, how they drew power from the surrounding environment. And more importantly, how to enhance them. It wasn't flashy like Nyxara's lightning or Lirael's precise shots, but it was effective.
He began inscribing the new strap, carefully drawing out the runes with the enchanter's quill. Every stroke was deliberate, his mind focused on understanding the pattern of holy magic flowing through the shield. Kael had never worked with holy energy before—he had never even seen it up close—but he could feel its presence, radiating from Aldric as the paladin's aura slowly mended his wounds.
The air around Aldric was thick with the energy of the Church, a soft glow of divine mana that hummed in the atmosphere. It was exactly what Kael needed. He reached out, not directly, but through the shield, guiding the energy into the runes he was inscribing. The process was slow and meticulous, but after an hour of careful work, the runes were complete.
"Hey" Aldric's voice broke Kael's concentration. The paladin had been watching him, his gaze sharp. "I didn't think you'd actually be able to repair that. Usually, only the Church's scribes can touch my gear."
Kael wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "I've read a lot of books. Sorry if I overstepped."
Aldric shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. "No need to apologize. You saved me a trip back to the Cathedral." His tone grew more serious. "I owe you an apology, too. For dragging you into this mess. I know you didn't choose this, but… our mission is too important to fail. If we don't succeed, your life would've been forfeit either way."
Kael looked up, locking eyes with Aldric. "I understand." And for the first time since they'd met, Kael realized that he truly did. This wasn't just an adventure—it was a battle for survival. And if he wanted to live through it, he'd need to rely on them just as much as they relied on him.