Crispin walked into the center of the pit and scooped up Regulus. The slime felt warm, vibrating with dull, humming energy. Shifting into his wyvern form, he climbed to his perch. Crispin followed the elder toward the quiet, shadow-draped halls of his private dwelling.
"Your companion is a sovereign." Xereniti gestured for Crispin to set Regulus down on the stone table. "He made his own choice to spare that beast. You should be proud of his restraint."
Crispin looked at the wyvern. "He didn't fall, but he couldn't hold his ground without becoming a monster."
"Correct," the Elder replied, pouring a fresh cup of tea. "To move without destroying, he must master his own weight. Your next assignment will take you to the magnitude plains. You are being dispatched to the Shard-Fall."
Crispin straightened his posture. It was a realm of mystery, a land of floating islands suspended in a sky of living gravity.
"Seek an affiliate named Vaelen," Xereniti continued. "She is the overseer of the floating reaches. If Regulus can assimilate the ore found there, he will gain the ability to manipulate his own mass in relation to the earth. It will give him the anchor he needs to stay grounded and the force he needs to move."
"Vaelen?" The dockmaster, Kaelen, flashed into his mind. "Kael—"
"Correct. She is the sister of Kaelen. He liked you and wanted to give your handling to his baby sister. You succeeded with him where others did not. I will heed to his request." The elder studied him. "You surprise me, Crispin."
"Oh?"
"I see the heart inside of Regulus and sense the same energy in you. Your spear, no longer a silver staff with glowing runes, but now bone. Any would press me for information on a legacy artifact, yet you have not. Why?"
Crispin's throat went tight. He wanted nothing more than to ramble hundreds of questions about it, yet he held his words. "At the forge, you learn something fast… If a client tells you what they want, and sets boundaries, it is not your place to press those boundaries. It makes a satisfied patron, a burr, or potential enemy. You hold your tongue, even if it requires chewing it out, before you drive away a supporter."
Xereniti pursed his lips, then nodded. "You are your father's son. I see that. I won't answer questions, or advise you on Regulus' journey, but I will say, don't fear this anomaly."
Crispin bowed his head. "Thank you, elder."
The Elder reached into a satchel and pulled out a small, jagged piece of dark, purple-tinted stone. He handed it to Crispin. It was heavy, pulling Crispin's hand toward the floor. Regulus reached out a small claw to touch the fragment; a faint, low hum resonated from his core as he sampled the high-density matter.
"We'll go," Crispin said, his jaw setting with determination.
Regulus flowed back onto Crispin's shoulder as they left the dwelling. The city of Thalandir was settling into the quiet of evening. When they reached the forge, Thorne was waiting by the cooling embers of the hearth.
He leaned his ivory spear against the anvil. "We're heading to the Shard-Fall at dawn. The elder said we may be gone for some time. Handler pairings, this time, hand us to someone with whom we might find conflict. I've being matched with Kaelen's younger sister. He and I got along fine, so I'm unsure of what I'll meet."
"Learning to work with resistance. Smart. The elder is wise. It will be an important lesson during your year away." Thorne nodded.
The day dawned before Crispin was ready. It felt as if he had closed his eyes, and then it was time to rise. He slugged out of his bed and dressed in his black gambeson. He carried his packs outside and put them in the back of the wagon that waited outside the smithy.
The journey to the magnitude plains would have taken more than a day to travel on foot, so he had hired a porter to escort him to his destination. An Allium coin dropped from his fingers into the porter's palm. He sighed, and cuddled with Regulus in the back of the wagon filled with his things. The wyvern looked at Thorne and Elara waving from the porch with bright smiles.
"We'll be home when we can," Crispin yelled as the wagon rolled. "Take care of yourselves. We will take care of us!"