「Status Update」
Location: Castle York (House Norwen)
Threat Level: Low
Active Hellschisms: 0
Order Presence: Limited
Available Resources: Scarce
Current Mission: Teach Rune Techniques to Chigan Envoys
By mid-morning, a small group from House Chigan stood in the courtyard near the eastern gate. Their horses rested at a makeshift pen outside the walls, leaving them lightly armored, eyes sharp with curiosity. Meraine, the envoy, had returned as promised, accompanied by a pair of smiths and a lean scribe who clutched fresh parchment. They hovered beside a pile of scrap metal and a bucket of paint, watching as Orien Majere and Dame Corene conferred quietly under the gate's shadow.
"Let's start with something they can easily understand," Corene said in a low voice. "Show them how the runes help a single chain link first, then we move on to a gate beam."
Orien gave a slight nod. "Agreed. We keep it simple." He glanced at Meraine's team. The two smiths looked skeptical, arms folded, while the scribe tapped a quill against his chin. Meraine herself offered a calm, expectant gaze.
Corene gestured, calling them forward. "We have your materials ready. Let's see what you can do."
Meraine stepped closer, voice clear. "My smiths, Bren and Jallis, know their metals. The scribe, Hest, is no stranger to delicate instructions. Show us your methods, and we'll attempt to replicate them."
Orien knelt beside a single iron link resting on a flat stone. He beckoned Eldric, who stood behind him, holding a clay pot of paint. The squire lowered the pot carefully, and Orien dipped a small brush inside. He painted two stripes along the link's curve, the strokes steady and unhurried. "The key is consistency," Orien said. "No gaps, no uneven patches."
Bren, the taller smith, frowned. "And how does paint keep metal from snapping?"
Orien set the brush aside and raised a hand, letting a faint warmth gather at his fingertips. "It's not just paint. Observe." He touched the painted stripes with his index finger, whispering a short phrase that made the paint glow, then fade. "The paint holds mana. When I release a touch of energy, the runes form within the layer, binding it to the metal's structure. It won't make the link unbreakable, but it'll absorb shock and stress, giving it more resilience."
Jallis crouched to see the link at eye level. "Never heard of paint holding magic," she muttered.
Hest, the scribe, took a quick note, ink scratching across the page. "You mentioned a spark of energy. What if we lack your level of control?"
Orien considered that. "Even a minor gift can spark these runes. Suppose a mage of lesser talent tries." He motioned Eldric forward. "Show them, lad."
Eldric paled slightly. "Me? I'm no full mage."
"You've watched me enough," Orien said. "Focus on the painted area. Picture the rune I taught you. Let the paint guide your thought. You don't need force, just a whisper."
Eldric inhaled, lowering a fingertip to the link. He closed his eyes. At first, nothing happened. Then the paint shimmered faintly and settled into a dull sheen. Eldric blinked, surprised but pleased.
Meraine raised her eyebrows. "A squire with no formal training can trigger it? That's promising."
Orien nodded. "The trick is careful preparation. Good paint, steady hands, a proper rune pattern. The magic almost feeds itself once nudged."
Bren stepped forward, holding out a dented chain link of his own. "Let me try painting," he said gruffly. Orien handed him the brush, and Bren dipped it clumsily, making a thick streak that dripped.
"Easy," Orien advised, placing a hand on Bren's wrist to steady him. "Less paint. Just enough to form a smooth line."
Bren cleared his throat, trying again. This time, his stripe was rough but passable. He frowned at his handiwork, then looked to Orien. "Now what?"
"Your scribe, Hest, should attempt the spark," Orien said, stepping back so the Chigan group could lean in together.
Hest swallowed, lifting a hesitant hand. Meraine nodded encouragingly. Hest touched the stripe, mumbling a quiet guess at the invocation. Nothing happened.
Orien spoke gently. "Use the image I gave you yesterday." He picked up a scrap of parchment where he'd drawn a simple symbol. He held it up. "Think of these curves in your mind. The paint is a canvas. Your mana is ink. Shape it, don't force it."
Hest nodded, fixed his gaze on the stripe, and tried again. This time, a faint flicker rewarded him. The glow was weaker than Eldric's attempt, but there. Orien resisted the urge to intervene, letting them find their footing. The glow receded, leaving the paint slightly duller but set.
Jallis touched the link, tapping it with a small hammer she'd brought. "It rings a bit differently," she said. "Not sure how to measure that, but I can feel a difference."
Eldric grinned behind Orien, pleased that others now struggled and learned as he had.
Meraine straightened. "This will help strengthen not just chains, but perhaps the frames of certain barricades or wagon axles, yes?"
Corene replied before Orien could. "We've tested it on our gate chain. It's not as strong as forging new steel, but it prevents catastrophic breaks. The difference between holding the gate an extra minute or losing it at first impact."
Bren pursed his lips. "We'll need to practice smoother brushwork." He turned to Hest. "We can refine the paint mixture. Maybe a thinner consistency would help us draw cleaner lines."
Orien nodded approval. "Adjusting the mixture is wise. We use a drop of resin to help the paint bind magic. Without it, the rune fades too fast. Experiment, but be careful—too much resin and you'll stiffen the brush."
Hest jotted that down, mouth tight with concentration. "Resin ratio… got it."
Meraine stepped back to take in the bigger picture. The courtyard bustled quietly: Norwen guards patrolled with horns at their belts, a pair of retainers cleaned tools near the forge, and the sunlight caught on patched armor plates. "I must say, this is more open cooperation than I expected," she said, voice pitched so only Orien and Corene could hear.
Corene folded her arms. "We're learning trust. Better than huddling behind broken walls."
Orien placed the painted link on a wooden board for Meraine's team to examine. "We gain more if we work together. The runes help now, but we still rely on your scouts' warnings."
Meraine's expression turned serious. "You'll have them. We've already noted unusual lights in the west. Not a rift yet, but the kind of flicker that often precedes trouble. We'll pass on details once we confirm."
Orien's jaw tightened slightly. "The west… that might affect travel routes. If a Hellschism forms near Castle Angell, we should warn them to prepare."
Hest looked up. "Are we to spread these methods further?"
Orien met Meraine's gaze. "Eventually, yes. If we strengthen each Haven, our enemies find fewer weak points. But let's proceed step by step. First, you perfect the technique yourselves."
Jallis tapped her chin. "We can try on a gate hinge back at Castle Ago. If we manage that, maybe we'll teach House Angell when they send envoys."
Bren nodded. "If House Norwen trusts us enough to teach, we'd be fools to keep it secret. Demons don't favor one House over another. They'll tear at whoever's weakest."
Meraine allowed a small, firm smile. "Agreed. We'll carry the knowledge forward."
Corene glanced at Orien, eyes holding a quiet satisfaction. "We've sown something useful here."
Orien said nothing for a moment, just let himself feel a calm pride. He had taken one of the oldest lessons from his past life—the need for unity—and made it real today.
Eldric, still holding the paint pot, ventured, "Can I try painting a rune on something else? Maybe that bent brace over there?"
Orien turned, noticing a piece of bent metal leaning against a crate. "Go ahead," he said, "but slowly. Keep your strokes thin."
Eldric carried the pot over, Meraine's smiths following to watch. The scribe hovered, ready to record each step. Corene and Orien remained behind, letting them learn on their own.
Corene lowered her voice, looking at Orien. "Chigan's team is earnest. Perhaps tomorrow you'll have them strengthen our inner door hinges. A test of their new skill?"
Orien nodded. "A good idea. If they succeed, we confirm their commitment. And if their scouts bring warning of trouble in the west, we'll know what to do next."
Alden approached, boots clacking on stone. "Your lesson goes well?"
"Better than I hoped," Orien said. "They're catching on. Soon enough, they won't need me to paint every line."
Alden glanced at Meraine's group. "So we trust them now?"
"We trust them enough to share what helps us both," Orien answered. "This isn't blind faith. It's forging a bond out of necessity. If they fail us, we lose nothing we wouldn't have lost anyway. If they stand with us, we gain time, knowledge, survival."
Alden considered that, then nodded. "Practical."
Corene smirked. "Majere here has a gift for seeing the big picture."
Orien said nothing, letting the moment stand. He listened as Eldric's voice carried softly: "A thinner brush stroke, yes, like that…" The scribe's quill scratched notes. Jallis hammered gently on a test scrap, checking the sound. Bren dabbed paint more cautiously than before.
Meraine stepped back from her team and approached Orien again. "When we return home, we'll need a small supply of that resin. Can we procure some here?"
Orien frowned, thinking. "We have limited stores, but I can spare a flask. Eventually, you'll need to find your own sources—tree saps or special oils. The bark from old groves sometimes yields a resin that works. I'll note which kinds to look for."
Meraine nodded, pleased. "We'll find a way. Thank you."
Corene signaled a retainer to fetch a small bottle. Meraine stood quietly, then said, "I wish we'd done this years ago. How many battles might have ended differently?"
Orien exhaled slowly. He remembered another life, too many lost battles. "Better late than never," he said, voice low. "We shape what future we can."
They watched as Eldric applied runes now, with Meraine's people guiding him. The roles reversed fluidly: Norwen's squire and Chigan's smiths learning from each other, fumbling but persistent. The tension that once hovered in these halls had thinned. Perhaps it would return if demons pressed harder, but for now, cooperation felt real and immediate.
A swift-footed retainer jogged up to Alden, whispering something. Alden nodded and addressed Orien and Corene. "A scout just brought word: no new rifts spotted overnight. It's quiet out there."
"Quiet is good," Corene said, relief in her tone.
Orien tightened his belt. "Quiet gives us time to prepare."
Meraine listened and said nothing, but Orien saw understanding in her gaze. They both knew quiet days were rare gifts, chances to forge alliances and reinforce weaknesses. Let others bask in it now. Soon enough, there would be more trials. With each step, each lesson, each rune, they armed themselves a little better against what lurked beyond these walls.