Luckborn

"Yeah, we kind of figured it was a salamander," said Milo.

Randy glared at him. "Not a regular salamander. A Salamander. With a capital S. People think they're a type of Kaosborn. Fiery creatures bent on destroying everything in their paths."

Milo took a step back.

"But that's hogwash. Sometimes, when a creature gets caught up in a tangle of magic and fire, it changes into something new. A totally natural process—well, except magical. You know what I mean."

Otter did not, in fact, know what he meant. "No. Milo, have you ever heard of such a thing?"

Milo shook his head. "No, but it sounds fascinating. Is the process something that can be replicated with a spell?"

Randy glared at him again. "You're one of them Spell Lords, aren't you?"

Milo looked offended. Then looked flustered at his own offense. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

"Hmph. Don't go sticking your nose where it don't belong. Look, you got a creature here born of deep elemental magic. It's a rare and beautiful thing. Spell Lords have tried to reproduce the effects of these natural phenomena and failed miserably."

Milo said nothing, but looked thoughtful.

Otter cut right to the chase. "Any idea why it's sick? Or what we can do to help it."

"I can't say for certain, but my guess is that it's starving."

Sage perked up at that. "So all we have to do is feed it the right food? Sounds easy enough. Unless it only eats something that was destroyed in that fire."

"Good instincts," said Randy. "But the 'food' I'm talking about ain't physical. My understanding is that these types of critters feed on mana, so to speak. Since they are magical in nature, they must absorb enough mana to sustain that aspect of themselves."

"Like a magical metabolism," Milo murmured.

Randy snapped his fingers. "Exactly. They burn mana like fuel. Not just to power spells—it's part of their life force. Without a steady flow of ambient energy, they weaken. Shrivel up. Die."

Otter stared down at the Salamander, watching the way its frilled gills pulsed faintly. "So what do we do?"

"Find a place with high ambient mana and let her stew in it," said Randy. "That's the only thing I know of, but I'm not an expert."

Jasper raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that. You're the only person I could think of that might be able to help."

"Well, I wish I could be of more help. It'd be a shame to see such a critter die."

"Wait. Wait!" interrupted Milo. "What about a mana potion?"

"What's a mana potion?" asked Randy.

"Concentrated mana. It helps a Spell Lord recover some of their mana reserves. Could that help?"

The old hermit looked thoughtful before answering. "Maybe. I'm not entirely sure, as I don't fully understand how these potions work, but I suppose it's worth trying."

"You wanna try it, Otter?" Milo asked, pulling out a slim blue vial and offering it across the table. "I have a potion."

Otter took the vial carefully, holding it up to the light as the liquid inside shimmered faintly. Then he looked at the little box that contained the creature. "How much time do you think is left on that hibernation spell?"

"No idea," said Milo. "Maybe another day or two. Maybe less."

"Well, I don't think another day or two will give us time to find a place with high ambient mana. Might as well give this a shot." Otter opened the case inside the box. When he did, the salamander's eyes fluttered open weakly. It looked like the hibernation spell was already wearing off.

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Otter unstoppered the vial and tipped it so that a few drops of the liquid dropped into the case. They quickly evaporated into a silvery mist. He looked at Randy, who was watching intently. "How much should I put in?"

Randy shrugged.

"Try a few more drops," said Milo. "Let's see if there's any reaction."

Otter did. They watched. He couldn't tell if anything was happening, and took a breath to say so, when something changed. The stripes on the sides of the creature brightened by a degree, and its eyes opened fully. It looked around, taking in its surroundings, then uncurled its little body. It blinked up at Otter, and he swore it made eye contact with him. After only a moment's hesitation, Otter poured half the vial into the case. As it evaporated, he could see the wispy mana curl toward the salamander, absorbed by its thin skin. It perked up even more and took a few tentative steps around the makeshift habitat.

"I think it's working," said Otter.

At the sound of his voice, the creature startled and scurried under a bit of moss hanging from a stick.

"I think you scared it," whispered Erin.

Otter lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, little guy. Nobody's going to hurt you."

The thing poked its head around the moss and looked at Otter for a second before retreating back to safety.

Otter replaced the lid and carefully stowed the box in his pack.

"Well," said Randy. "Looks like you saved the little guy…for now."

"What do you mean, 'for now'?"

"I won't lie. Keeping any kind of salamander in captivity is difficult. They require the right humidity, acidity, temperature, and regular sanitation. Add that to needing the proper diet, and it can be tricky to get right."

"Do you think you could take care of it?" asked Otter.

"No," the hermit said immediately. "If it were a normal salamander, maybe. But I don't have access to that potion, which it will certainly need more of."

"I see."

"If we can get it back to the Academy," offered Erin, "I'm sure we can find someone to help you set up a suitable habitat. Not to mention you'd have access to mana potions. Though they aren't cheap."

"I guess we'll just have to do our best."

Bzzz.

Objective complete: Save the salamander.

100XP received.

***

The fire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows across the clearing. The sky above was a velvet sheet, dusted with stars, the moon not yet risen. A light wind whispered through the trees, rustling branches and distant leaves, but otherwise the night was still.

Otter leaned back on his bedroll, head propped against his pack. The salamander's box rested beside him, silent and still, though he thought he saw a faint pulse of light deep inside—like a coal glowing in a lantern.

The others had finished their dinner, and conversation had given way to silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, just tired.

Jasper sat a little apart from the rest, arms looped over his knees, staring into the fire. The lines in his face looked deeper in the glow—older somehow. Otter wanted to offer his friend some comfort, but couldn't figure out how to broach the subject.

Sage beat him to it. She stood quietly and crossed to where Jasper sat, and lowered herself to the ground beside him. He looked at her, but she didn't say anything. She just sat there next to him.

Otter watched the inner turmoil play across Jasper's face, and he decided Sage had the right of it, so he, too, went and sat beside Jasper. He sat there quietly, patiently, offering the strength of companionship.

Eventually, Jasper spoke. "I don't know what to do about my Da."

Otter expected Sage to say something wise, but she continued to sit in silence.

"I tried to apologize to him last night," Jasper continued after a moment. "It didn't go well." He picked up a twig and tossed it into the fire, watching it hiss and curl. "I told him I was sorry for not telling him I chose Fighter. I said I didn't mean to hurt him, that it wasn't about him. I just…" He trailed off, then shook his head. "He said it wasn't about what I chose, it was that I chose it without him. That I cheated him out of something important."

"One of the most difficult lessons we must learn is that we are responsible for the unintended consequences of our actions," Sage said. "It speaks volumes about your character that you wish to repair that relationship."

Jasper looked at her. "Yeah, well, then I accused him of being so overbearing all my life that this was something I needed to do myself."

"Oh."

"Like I said. It didn't go well."

"Our emotions have a tendency to muck things up despite our good intentions."

"You can say that again." Jasper sighed. "At least he talked to me, I guess. That's a step in the right direction."

Sage nodded. "There will be a next time. If you would like, I could coach you through the conversation."

Jasper swallowed hard. "Maybe."

From the other side of the fire, Erin said, "At least you tried. I know people that would have just walked away for good."

"Still feels like I broke something I don't know how to fix."

Otter reached over and nudged a small stick into the flames. "Usually, fixing a thing takes longer than breaking it. And there are no instructions for something like this."

"Wouldn't that make life easier?" Jasper huffed.

"Sure would," Milo said, flopping down beside them with a dramatic sigh. "But then what would we talk about around the fire? I vote we keep life complicated. That way, we all stay interesting."

Jasper cracked a smile. "You're starting to sound like Levi."

"Is that a compliment?" Milo asked, eyes wide with mock innocence. "I can't tell."

Otter snorted. "That's definitely a Milo thing to say."

"What does that mean?" asked Milo indignantly.

"It means you don't need to borrow greatness."

Milo looked very confused.

Sage tilted her head thoughtfully. "Would you like to unpack this?"

Then he looked horrified. "Absolutely not."

The group laughed, and the weight around Jasper's shoulders seemed to ease, just a little. The fire burned low, and the wind stirred the treetops, but for that moment, they were safe. Together.