Keorn, the guardian of House Arabion who had provided Novan with direction during his shepherd days, always spoke of his house with unmistakable pride. He described a noble lineage where everyone, from highborn leaders to common guardians, considered humanity's protection their sacred duty.
Novan's acceptance of Asiz's proposal after careful consideration stemmed not merely from desire for magical compensation, but from admiration fostered by Keorn's stories. Even as a vassal house rather than the main branch, House Berk might still embody that admirable spirit.
Of course, possessing Zahar bloodline—Arabion's historic enemy—presented certain risks. However, as long as he avoided revealing his concealment abilities specifically, significant problems seemed unlikely. After all, bloodline discernment capabilities like the librarian's remained exceedingly rare.
The following morning, their small party—two men and one horse—first returned to the battle site to recover House Berk's fallen members.
Since Asiz had remained unconscious throughout the previous day, Novan assumed the guide's role.
"This direction."
"How do you navigate such uniform terrain? It all appears identical to me..."
"Solo wandering teaches quickly. Look—the dark elves remain there."
Asiz briefly bit his lip while regarding the headless corpses before turning away. He had likely contemplated desecrating them from unresolved anger before reconsidering.
Meanwhile, Novan properly examined the bodies he hadn't inspected previously.
Their black leather coats, similarly styled, caught his attention first. The craftsmanship suggested workshop production rather than improvised creation, and showed minimal wear.
Their ears provided another clue. From the female whose head was partially intact, he observed elongated split ears suggesting elevated status.
This evidence supported one conclusion: "A dark elf settlement likely exists nearby."
"A settlement? I've never heard of such in this region..."
"They construct subterranean communities, hence their obscurity. They typically excavate limited surface connections for necromancers to emerge, hunt humans, then vanish underground without leaving evidence. Many regional disappearances probably represent their handiwork."
"Where did you acquire such knowledge?"
"Literary sources."
Novan averted his gaze from Asiz's impressed expression—a look he had encountered repeatedly in Orem. He resolved to inform the nearest city's lord about the probable dark elf presence.
They proceeded to recover servants' remains by following Tilly's tracks. Though disturbed by overnight scavengers, Asiz's face contorted with grief at each discovery, though he maintained composure.
While burying sixteen bodies and collecting their belongings, Novan periodically employed detection magic to monitor for approaching dark elves. Fortunately, none appeared until they completed the graves.
"That completes our task. I wish we could return them all to their homeland..."
"That would prove impractical."
Despite Tilly's impressive size, transporting sixteen bodies exceeded their capacity. Moreover, the horse already carried the servants' collected belongings.
Finally, Asiz transformed a large stone into rectangular form, engraved "My Beloved Family" upon it, and positioned it before the graves as a marker.
Shortly afterward, the improvised monument began emitting soft luminescence.
'Artificer abilities,' Novan noted.
Typically, magical infusions gradually dissipated as energy scattered. Even when Novan enhanced his sling and stones with reinforcement and acceleration magic, the effects eventually faded.
However, certain objects retained permanent enchantments—these constituted magical devices, requiring artificer bloodline talents for creation.
As the light subsided, Asiz explained with visible fatigue: "Limited time prevented elaborate enchantment—merely simple concealment magic to mask scent from animals. I'd find it distressing to return and discover disturbed remains..."
Traveling northward from the burial site, both men maintained extended silence. Novan naturally inclined toward quietude, while Asiz clearly lacked conversational spirit.
After several wordless hours, as sunset approached, Asiz finally spoke.
"Thank you, Sir Novan."
"For what precisely?"
"For withholding judgment."
Asiz smiled self-deprecatingly.
"A noble weeping over subordinates' sacrifices must have appeared ridiculous."
"Why would I consider that inappropriate?"
"My father's teaching held that those dying in righteous battle achieve divine residence, making grief unnecessary—that true nobility requires progressing beyond sacrifice... But if strength means suppressing sorrow for family deaths, perhaps strength remains forever beyond me."
"That doesn't represent weakness, but compassion."
Novan recalled his mother's passing—that piercing anguish, that profound isolation as his sole ally vanished from existence. He refused to classify such emotions as mere "weakness."
Though conversation lapsed again, this silence felt considerably lighter than before.
As complete darkness descended, Asiz spoke once more.
"Since we're traveling companions, perhaps we should adopt more comfortable interaction? Our ages seem relatively close..."
"Oh. Certainly."
"Such straightforwardness! I anticipate our friendship!"
When Novan awkwardly accepted this sudden informality, Asiz extended his hand with a smile suggesting decades-long acquaintance, forcefully elevating his mood despite earlier melancholy.
'Friendship,' Novan reflected. This possibly represented his first experience with such designation.
He experienced peculiar sentiment while clasping Asiz's hand.
Shortly after this ice-breaking, Novan realized his new "friend" inhabited a fundamentally different reality.
The first evidence emerged during mealtime.
"What contraption is this?"
"A refrigeration chest. I packed provisions from our last city visit."
From Tilly's saddlebag, Asiz extracted a metal container large enough to accommodate a person. Though externally unremarkable except for its red coloration, opening the lid released surprisingly cool air.
"It maintains constant cold?"
"Precisely! This preserves most foods acceptably for approximately one week. Simply heat the cold items before consumption."
Asiz demonstrated by extracting bread and meat, then applying flame to warm them. Despite slight charring—apparently guardians usually performed this task—the results tasted exceptional.
While not matching freshly prepared cuisine, comparing it with typical travel fare like hardtack or jerky seemed inappropriate. Though accustomed to rustic outdoor meals, Novan certainly preferred palatable options when available.
Asiz's magical devices extended beyond this single item: a water-dispensing apparatus activated by pressure, a device creating temporary shelter from surrounding wood, an alarm signaling approaching entities...
When Novan learned even their clothing incorporated self-cleaning enchantments, he couldn't resist commenting: "Simply providing these garments would sufficiently compensate for my assistance."
Magical devices represented extraordinary rarity. In Orem, only Lord Lug possessed a few specimens, considered family treasures rarely displayed. Yet this young noble casually carried multiple devices among his horse's burdens.
Hearing this assessment, Asiz laughed uncomfortably.
"Such items inadequately match my life's value. I promise superior compensation upon returning to our main house. Should the elders withhold permission, I'll create it personally."
Novan nodded silently at this promise but maintained minimal expectations. Aren't human hearts naturally fickle between desperation and security?
Even if Asiz attempted to satisfy his obligation with inferior magical devices after returning safely home, Novan wouldn't register disappointment. He would simply discard their nascent friendship and eventually exact appropriate recompense when sufficiently powerful.
After approximately thirty-six hours' travel, they arrived at Maderi, the region's principal city.
Guards at the entrance withdrew in shock upon seeing Tilly, clearly a magical beast, and shortly thereafter, apparent guardians emerged hastily.
"We welcome divine descendants!"
Evidently, nobility received this designation locally.
Immediately escorted to the central mansion, Novan and Asiz informed the local lord regarding the probable existence of cannibalistic dark elves nearby.
"Dark elves...? Do such beings truly exist?"
"Indeed. We brought their heads as evidence—would you care to examine them?"
"Unnecessary. Such things would merely spoil my appetite. Very well, I shall order patrols. More significantly, regarding your beast—might you consider selling it?"
"No, Tilly represents family..."
Unfortunately, this region's ruler demonstrated minimal interest in their information. Finding no persuasive method, they accepted hospitality for two days before resuming their northward journey.
Five days after departing Maderi, when Novan incinerated an attacking bear with lightning magic for practice, Asiz expressed incredulity.
"Novan, precisely how many spells can you employ?"
"Pardon?"
"I've lost count of variations observed during our travels! Animal control, freezing, levitation, liquid manipulation, reinforcement, illumination, binding, lethal magic, earth transformation, and now lightning... Have you dedicated your entire existence to magical practice? Or perhaps possess bloodline abilities permitting universal spell mastery?"
Among these mentioned capabilities, some were self-taught while others came from Keorn's instruction. Asiz's reaction seemed peculiar to Novan.
Wasn't magical activation through visualization standard practice for non-bloodline magic, with proficiency representing the only variable? Though he had initially struggled when Keorn introduced certain techniques, they never seemed extraordinary.
However, recognizing that responding "it simply worked" might appear arrogant, Novan deflected slightly.
"We agreed to avoid investigating my lineage."
"That merely represented humor. Such preposterous bloodline abilities couldn't exist. More importantly, your actual age? Your appearance suggests under thirty, but perhaps you're eighty?"
"Pardon?"
"What?"
When Novan displayed confusion, Asiz similarly sensed discrepancy and halted.
"How old are you?"
"Forty-three this year, approximately."
"I approach my nineteenth birthday next month..."
Asiz's expression upon discovering his new friend's age was barely half his own proved remarkable.
Similarly, Novan felt shocked learning that Asiz, who appeared only slightly older than himself, matched village elders in age.
Upon reflection, even Keorn had appeared mid-forties despite exceeding seventy years. For nobles living several times longer than commoners, appearance-age discrepancies represented normality.
This fact had escaped Novan's attention, having limited noble interactions previously.
"Well, twenty-one or twenty-two years hardly signifies for us... However, explain your magical aptitude. How is this possible? Your age makes it more bewildering! Insufficient time exists even practicing from infancy!"
Under persistent questioning, Novan simply explained consistent magical practice since childhood had enabled his current proficiency despite youth.
This represented no falsehood—his primary diversion on Windcrest Hill had involved magical experimentation.
Hearing this explanation, Asiz kicked a roadside stone dejectedly.
"Remarkable... I should have realized when you described defeating two necromancers despite limited magical reserves. Who would imagine two such prodigies existing simultaneously."
"Two?"
Asiz nodded.
"Yes, though perhaps not precisely matching your level. Or perhaps comparable? That bloodline certainly warrants respect. I know another genius approximately your age—my second cousin."
"Might this person create my magical device?"
Devices crafted by prodigious artificers presumably offered superior quality.
Asiz shook his head, smiling.
"No, she belongs not to our house but to the main lineage."
"You don't suggest...?"
"Precisely. The princess of House Arabion—potentially its future leader."