Mark of the Fool
Chapter 556: Canine Operatives

Canine forms shimmered, preparing to transform.

Solid shapes rippled like a pond's surface on a windswept day. Wolven bodies yielded their shape. Snouts collapsed. Long fur flattened, twisting together, weaving into dark cloth.

Hair of varied textures and colours appeared on mortal forms.

Where seven grey wolves once sat on lean haunches—seven mortals now kneeled before the stone, heads bowed in deference to the imposing priest.

The woman in the centre of the half-circle slowly looked up, grey eyes meeting the clear ones of her commander. “Their defences strengthen, Holy Eldin. At present, it appears they are erecting a network of towers and increasing their patrols, commander. We were still able to blend with the native environment by assuming the bodies of wolves, but by doing so, we killed and consumed raw flesh.” She did not flinch at the confession.

“Your sacrifices will be rewarded,” Eldin clasped his hands before him. “Did you hear anything else? It has been weeks since we arrived.”

“The Generasians are cautious,” the spies’ leader said grimly. “It will be difficult to avoid being noticed forever, and their forces rarely leave Greymoor by road.” She drew a line across the soil. “It is not often that their expeditions leave the castle by travelling overland. They mostly use the fae roads and underground tunnels. So, what little we overhear of their conversations has not revealed much. They seem to have escalated their hunts for samples and have been returning to their base with more dungeon core remains and monster parts lately.”

“I see.” Eldin stilled, his head lowering, deep in thought. “Have you seen any signs of hostility? Any mustering of forces for an attack on us?”

The spy leader shook her head. “None, Holy Commander. They turn inward, tending their own affairs and planning raids on dungeons. That seems to be all they are doing, but these wizards also seem adept at hiding their activities. We cannot know the full extent of their will for now.”

“Then we must gather more information while we can…but change our strategy.” Eldin squinted at the tree canopy for a moment. A small animal scurried through the branches, unseen. He heard movement, but could not find it. “If we cannot learn their motivations here, then we must learn them from elsewhere. We will start observing the teams that hunt dungeons.”

He looked back down, pointing to two spies furthest to the right. “You will go north to our Third Encampment. Tell Silan to send an agent to join the Heroes’ party: they have been growing closer to these Generasians, and may have heard something, even if they do not realise its import. I wish for our agent to stay with the Heroes’ party even when the Holy Chosen, Holy Champion and Holy Sage are here in Greymoor. Perhaps the Holy Saint, when alone, will be able to shed light on the mysteries before us.”

“Yes, Holy Commander.” The two spies bowed their heads.

“As for the rest of you.” Eldin’s clear eyes fixed on the other agents. “I want your focus firmly on the Heroes and their activities when they are in Greymoor. Note who they interact with in this expedition and how.”

“Yes, Holy Commander,” the spies said, taking holy tonics from pouches on their belts. As one, they drank, closing their eyes while divinity cloaked them.

Just as Uldar had taken forms that were not his own, the holy tonic warped the spies' own bodies, changing them once more. It was not a wolf’s shape that took them this time. Instead, foreheads rippled, antlers sprang from transforming skulls. Fingers and toes fused, forming hooves. Smooth coats of tawny fur covered them.

When the spies’ transformation was complete, seven deer stood before the commanding priest looking down upon them. Gracefully, their long necks inclined toward him, then they turned and bounded from the clearing. Five trotted toward Greymoor, and two turned north, making for the Third Encampment.

As their hoofbeats faded, Eldin stood on his rock, reflecting for a time. He turned to silent prayer.

‘Give me guidance, holy father. Clear my eyes so that I may see your enemies, as you cleared them so I might see my foes for so many years,’ he thought.

Silence answered though he listened closely, hearing only the rustle of trees around him. Suddenly, the wind picked up, and the forest’s whispers grew to a creaking groan as though the woods were speaking.

After a minute or two, the wind died.

And Eldin knew Uldar had spoken.

It was his god’s way of speaking, using the subtle sounds of nature, and the groaning of his land.

“By your will,” he whispered, closing his eyes and letting his favourite miracle fall over his body.

His form shifted, he felt it sinking into the rock, becoming one with the cold, hard, unyielding stone. It gave him comfort, as it always had, and always would.

Soon, the stone reached his shoulders.

Then his neck.

Then it covered the crown of his head, he became one with it. Eldin let himself glide through the earth below, adjusting his form each time he encountered pockets of minerals and various elements in the soil.

The priest knew it would be a long time before he could rest.

His own tasks awaited first.

All around the stone, the forest was silent, save for the wind. The breeze slowly brushed the canopy, making the forest whisper. At times, the gentle breeze would gust, changing those whispers to a creaking groan, sounding like the entire wood was speaking in one strong voice.

After a time, the breeze would naturally die away, leaving only familiar forest sounds in their wake. Above the clearing, there came a sound from the canopy, like a small animal moving through the branches, unseen.

At least, that’s what it seemed like, at first.

If one knew the old ways of the woods—the oldest ways—they might have known that there was something different about the noise. It was far too rhythmic to be the random scampering of a squirrel or chipmunk, though the sound tried to disguise itself as such.

If one knew the old ways, they might have realised—if their mind wasn’t distracted by other things—that there was an odd undertone to the sound. Metallic…like the chiming of bells.

And if one who knew the old ways had listened just long enough, they might have noticed something else: that there were strangely few animals about, like they were hiding from some unseen predator.

Those things might have been enough to allow one to pierce the auditory illusion.

There was no squirrel, chipmunk, or other small animal in the canopy above the clearing. Instead, a short figure sat astride a branch. Mistletoe, blood-red holly, and more Sigmus plants were braided throughout his snow-white beard and scarlet clothing. A satchel—bursting with shining golden scrolls—hung from his side.

He had an otherworldly cast to his skin, like frostbite mingled with blueberry stains. His faded grey eyes were alive with mirth.

“Well, well,” said the fae known as the Guide, who some called the Stalker. “Isn’t this a curious feast that’s cooking,”

The end of Alex’s second year came before he knew it.

Exams had come and gone, leaving behind new hopes and shattered dreams for the students of Generasi. Most importantly, though, it meant the beginning of the summer break for exhausted scholars, both student and professor alike.

Of course, for one student named Alex Roth, there was little rest.

This morning found him on the roof, as was his habit lately, trying to control the Traveller’s power. He felt it even more now—a warmth hidden deep in his chest—in a way that he hadn’t been able to feel it when he’d first returned from Cretalikon. But it was still distant, like a candle flickering across the room on a cold winter’s night.

He reached for that warmth, concentrating, wanting to hold it.

He dove deep within, using a new modified mana manipulation technique that he’d slowly developed to help latch on to the Traveller’s magic within his soul.

The Mark had saved him months of work modifying the technique, which had given him a tool to better attack the problem of trying to grasp the elusive power. Yet, it still kept slipping away. Whenever he reached for it, it seemed to fade away.

Alex sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

Of course, the power didn’t answer, staying out of reach, but remaining a quiet warmth in his chest and soul.

Perhaps if he made it flare, he might get a better hold on it.

Raising his hands, he began chanting an incantation, one he’d recently taught himself. The power bloomed in his soul, seizing the spell and helping him despite the Mark’s interference. The barrage of failures the Mark seemed to love inflicting felt almost trivial against the warm, kind presence of the Traveller’s power, as it grew warmer and warmer while the spell reached across the planes, touching a now familiar presence.

“Come on, come to me,” he whispered, speaking a name in a celestial tongue.

A being rushed to him, drawn across the planes by the spell and the Traveller’s power.

The air in the summoning circle wavered, then abruptly tore apart, pealing like a ringing bell, announcing a graceful creature of red and gold. It was long and lean, with sleek fur covering its body, and sapphire eyes bright with ancient wisdom and mischief. It licked its long snout, stretching on black paws, three tails waving behind a vulpine body.

A three-tailed celestial fox stood before him: the very first creature Alex had called forth using a fourth-tier summoning spell.

His smile spread wide, welcoming the beautiful creature, recalling Professor Mangal’s face when he’d first summoned it in her lab. There had been at least a full five seconds where she’d only stared at the fox in shock before recovering her wits enough to tell him to proceed.

He’d then communicated with the engeli—as he had many times in the Cells before the summoning exam—switching between five dialects of celestial tongues to show mastery of the language.

Mangal then handed him an instruction sheet, and being very specific—he’d explained the task he wanted his new vulpine friend to perform: find several marbles hidden throughout the chamber and arrange them in a specific pattern in the centre of the room. The professor had seemed like she was trying to stay neutral by keeping all emotion off her face, but in the end, she’d lost the battle and broke into a delighted grin that stayed with her for the rest of the exam.

Alex received top marks on his summoning practical, giving him a new summons, and a clean sweep of his final exams. A grand way to end second year.

And thankfully, he wasn’t alone.

His friends had crushed their practical and theory-based exams, appearing among the top five students in every one of their classes.

Thundar, in particular, had claimed the top spot in his illusion class: an achievement he’d seemed almost embarrassed about.

“Jeez, look at that,” he’d scratched his head, squinting at the board. “Hardly feel like I deserve it: I could have sworn I’d do a lot worse…maybe even fail.”

“Thundar…” Isolde had said sadly. “There will come a day when you stop underestimating your own intelligence, proficiency as a scholar and your skill in the wizardly arts. And on that day, every tree in the world will wither, the ocean will turn yellow, and the sun will explode.”

The minotaur had snorted. “Now I’m gonna have to prove you wrong, and you’re gonna be responsible for the sun exploding.”

Alex looked up at the blue sky, noting the morning sun climbing over the horizon. So far, it hadn‘t exploded and thankfully, it looked like it was going to be a beautiful, sunny day.

Which was a very good thing, since today was a most important day.

“Alex?” the celestial fox asked, cocking her head to one side. “Are you summoning me for practise again?”

“Yes,” Alex said. “You don’t have to do anything at all.”

“Those are the best summonings,” she said in a warm voice, stretching her body and laying down in the circle. As she was about to close her eyes, she glanced at him curiously. “Did something good happen? I sense warm feelings coming from you.”

“Well, it’s a big day today, after all—” he began.

He heard the front doorbell ring, which meant Troy was announcing his arrival before letting himself in with his key.

The young wizard took a deep breath.

Despite how easy his exams had been, a greater test was about to begin.

For today?

Today was the grand opening of the Roth Family Bakery.

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