March 29, 2025.
Location: Robert's Settlement near Kilrain, Scotland.
Perspective: Robert MacCallum.
I stretched my arms over my head, letting the warmth of the fire soak into my skin for one last moment before standing. The air was crisp, the distant crackle of wood burning softening the night, its embers glowing like scattered stars against the dark. "It's been a pleasure sharing this evening with you all," I said, smiling around the circle of MacEwans. "But I should head to my cottage and get some rest. Tomorrow's tour will need a rested guide, after all."
I took a step away from the group, but before I could get far, a small, warm hand slipped into mine. Startled, I glanced down and found Lilia walking beside me, swinging our joined hands back and forth as if we were children strolling through a meadow. Her expression was calm, but her green eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of her mouth curving in a teasing smile.
Heat rushed to my face. I knew I had gone crimson, but I couldn't stop it. My gaze darted nervously to Laird Ewan and Ruari, who watched us with interest from the fire.
My stomach clenched, expecting disapproval, but then the two men burst into uproarious laughter.
"She's her own woman, Laird Robert!" Ewan said, clutching his sides as he bellowed, his voice rich with good humor. "We don't possess her choices!"
Ruari, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, added, "Aye, Robert, best get used to it. That one does as she pleases."
I turned to Lilia, who was now grinning openly at me, her face alight with pure mirth. She shrugged, both hands lifting in a "What did I do?" gesture that deepened my blush. Before I could respond, she leaned up on her toes and pecked my cheek, quick and playful.
I froze under her suggestive gaze, its intensity imprinting itself in my mind. She skipped back toward her clanfolk, casting a final fond glance over her shoulder before reclaiming her seat.
Around the fire, the MacEwans were beside themselves, hooting and hollering, their mirth infectious. Hamish laughed so hard he spilled ale over his boots, while Snow collapsed against Sorcha, helpless with giggles. "Goodnight, Laird Robert!" someone teased, accompanied by exaggerated eyebrow wiggles from several men.
I tried to muster a dignified response, bowing deeply in mock formality, but I too started laughing too hard to hold the pose. I waved them off as I hurried toward the gates, trying to outrun my own embarrassment.
Chaucer was stationed at the main gate, standing at attention with his kukri crossed over his chest in a dramatic pose. "Goodnight, Master," he said in his new, richly refined voice, though his twitching whiskers betrayed his amusement at my flushed face.
"Goodnight, Chaucer." I reached out and tapped my fist lightly against his, human to mouse fist. He returned the gesture with a broad smile, his sharp teeth gleaming. Fist bumps, a universal gesture of camaraderie.
As I passed into the quiet of the dig site, the lingering warmth of the MacEwans' laughter filled me. Despite my embarrassment, I felt lighter, happier than I had in years. These people had a way of pulling me out of my head, out of the isolation I'd grown so accustomed to.
Moira, quiet all evening, finally spoke as I neared my cottage. Her voice was soft but knowing. "So, what do you think, Vessel? Do you like them?"
I slowed my steps, letting the question settle in my mind. The wind carried the earthy scent of the golden Grove nearby, its leaves shimmering with motes of light that danced like fireflies. "I've never met a more enjoyable group of people in my life," I said truthfully, my voice quieter than usual.
Moira's tone grew warm, with an edge of pride. "They are the closest thing to my kin I could locate in your world. They remind me of the people in Albion, the good and righteous, the honorable folk who upheld the Song and the light of life."
I stopped in my tracks, gazing up at the stars scattered across the sky. "That explains a lot," I murmured.
"And that Lilia," Moira added slyly, the smile evident in her voice, "is something else too, hmm?"
I groaned, my cheeks burning again as heat rushed back to my face. "Goodnight, Moira."
Her magical giggles followed me all the way to my cottage, a quiet, mischievous melody of their own, punctuated by popping bubbles of golden light that faded into the night. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, leaning against it with a sigh. My heart was still beating too fast, and I couldn't help the small, foolish smile that tugged at my lips.
The world outside grew quiet as I crawled into bed, my thoughts drifting back to Lilia's bright green eyes and her fearless, playful nature. As sleep claimed me, I dreamed of laughter, warmth, and a future that didn't seem so lonely anymore.
March 30, 2025.
The morning came all too fast. The dreams of the night could have lasted for eternity, and I would have been blissfully content in that realm within my mind. But I had made a promise, a tour to give, and I wasn't going to keep anyone waiting.
I threw on some nicer clothes I'd picked up from the market. Snow had practically forced me to buy them during her overzealous efforts to "upgrade my aesthetic." Adjusting the collar of the fitted shirt, I brushed my hair into something resembling order with my fingers, making a mental note to get an actual brush at some point.
Passing by a silvery mirror on the wall, I caught my reflection and paused. I straightened, examining myself with a wry smirk. "Suddenly worried about your appearance, Robert?" I muttered to the reflection.
I knew exactly why.
I shook my head with a soft laugh, grabbed my shillelagh from the corner, and stepped outside. The sun was already high enough to paint the Grove's golden leaves in radiant light, motes of energy drifting like fireflies through the air. The breeze carried the earthy scent of recent diggings, a promise of new beginnings.
At the gates, Chaucer stood waiting, his new armor gleaming in the sunlight. "Morning, Master," he said smoothly, giving me a crisp salute. His transformed voice still startled me sometimes, every word rolling out like velvet, his once-squeaky tone replaced by an eloquence I envied.
"Morning, Chaucer," I replied, returning his salute with a quick nod.
Beyond the gates, Clan MacEwan was already stirring. The caravans buzzed with activity, children darting between the wagons and men and women packing supplies. Laird Ewan, Ruari, Sorcha, and Lilia stood near the lead wagon, chatting among themselves.
The sight of Lilia made me falter for a brief moment. She was dressed simply but elegantly, her dark curls catching the morning light, her easy grace putting my nerves on edge in the best possible way.
Ewan caught sight of me and raised a hand in greeting. "There he is! The great Laird Robert!"
I flushed at the title. "Good morning, Laird Ewan. I trust your clan rested well?"
"Like babes in cradles," he said with a grin. "And we're eager to see what you've built here, lad. Lead the way!"
I gestured toward the gates, feeling a swell of pride as Chaucer opened them wide for the clan to enter. The entire group moved as a wave, the MacEwan clansmen spreading out with curiosity as they passed through the walls. Some paused to admire the sturdy stone construction of the gate, while others wandered toward the market stalls, pointing out wares they might barter for later.
The heart of the clan, Ewan, Sorcha, Ruari, Lilia, and a handful of others, stayed close as I began the tour.
"This is the market," I said, gesturing to the row of newly constructed stalls lining the main path. "It's still in its infancy, but Snow's done an excellent job managing it. There's food, textiles, and tools available, all produced here or brought in by traveling merchants."
Lilia's eyes sparkled as she examined the vibrant displays, her hands brushing over bolts of fabric and rows of handmade trinkets. She turned to me with a broad smile, giving a quick thumbs-up before skipping back to her father's side.
Sorcha's gaze was sharper, her weathered hands resting on her walking stick. "Looks like you've got a solid foundation here, Robert," she said. "But markets thrive on diversity. You'll need more traders coming through if you want it to grow."
I nodded. "That's the plan. I'm hoping the Grove and its unique resources will draw more interest over time."
Next, we passed the training grounds. It was a simple but effective setup, an open sandy arena flanked by targets and sparring dummies, with motes of healing magic drifting like fireflies, a result of STEVE's installation to mend injuries quickly.
Ruari's face lit up as he spotted the arena. "Now that's what I like to see! A proper place for a man to sharpen his skills."
Ewan laughed, clapping Ruari on the back. "Don't get too eager, lad. You'll be swingin your sword soon enough."
Sorcha raised an eyebrow at me. "I assume this is Hamish's doing?"
"Partially," I admitted. "He's helped me shape it into something practical for both combat training and magic practice."
Ruari inspected a sparring dummy, his sharp eye catching the scorch marks from recent spell tests. He glanced back at me with a challenging grin. "Care for a demonstration later, Robert? I'd like to see what kind of tricks you've got up your sleeve."
"Maybe," I said with a smirk. "But I'd hate to embarrass you in front of your clan."
His laugh was hearty, a glint in his eye promising he'd take me up on that challenge soon.
As we moved deeper into the settlement, I showed them the newly built housing, the mess hall, and the recreation spaces STEVE had designed. The clan's reactions ranged from curiosity to delight, with Lilia twirling in one of the open courtyards as if testing the space for a dance.
Finally, we reached the arch. The massive granite structure loomed before us, its weathered stones etched with ancient runes. A bubble of golden light popped near the keystone rune at the topmost block, drawing the clan's silent awe as they approached.
Ewan let out a low whistle. "Now that's a sight."
Sorcha stepped forward, her fingers brushing over the smooth surface of one of the stones. "What is it, Robert?"
"A gateway," I said, my voice quieter than usual. "Or it will be, once it's restored. It's called the Keystone Gateway, and it has the potential to connect this place to over a hundred others across the world."
Ruari crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "And how do you restore it?"
I gestured to the indentations on the blocks. "Each one requires a rune, one for every location it connects to. The keystone rune up there is just the start. The rest…" I sighed. "Well, they're scattered across the globe."
Ewan nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the arch. "A project of this magnitude will take years, maybe decades."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But it's worth it. If we can rebuild this, it could change everything."
Lilia stepped closer to the arch, her eyes wide with wonder. She glanced back at me, her expression full of curiosity and hope. I felt my resolve intensify.
Stepping away from the arch, I gestured for Laird Ewan and the others to follow me toward a smaller structure near the settlement's heart. Inside, motes of blue light flickered like fireflies, the unmistakable presence of STEVE radiating from within.
"Come on," I said, casting a quick glance back at the group. "I'd like you to meet someone."
"Someone?" Ruari asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Or something?"
"You'll see," I said with a grin.
The air shimmered with energy as we approached, and as we stepped inside, STEVE's crystalline core hovered before us, its bluish glow steady and bright. Motes of light popped and reformed around it, a visual testament to its magic.
"STEVE," I said firmly, "I'd like to introduce you to the Clan MacEwan. These are my allies, and you will treat them with the utmost respect. If they offer to help, you may provide them with tasks, but you are not to make demands of them. Is that clear?"
STEVE's glow pulsed, as though processing the order. His tone was as dry and curt as ever. "Understood, Master Robert. I shall accommodate them, though it is hardly optimal to deviate from more efficient resource allocation."
"Good," I said, crossing my arms. "And polite, remember? You're representing us now."
STEVE's crystal dimmed slightly, like a sulking child, but his voice maintained its monotone. "Very well. Welcome, Clan MacEwan. Should you wish to contribute to the settlement's development, I can provide recommendations. However, rest assured, your presence will not be a requirement for continued efficiency."
The clan members stared in astonishment, their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. Sorcha was the first to speak, her tone filled with awe. "A talking crystal. By the gods, I thought that was just a tale to scare children!"
Ruari snorted. "Looks more like a floating gem than a rock, but I'll admit, it's impressive."
"Impressive doesn't begin to cover it," Sorcha muttered, her eyes glued to the glowing shard.
Before I could explain further, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Lilia had stepped forward, her gaze intense as she stared at the shimmering portal nearby, its blue-green surface swirling with energy.
I followed her line of sight, realizing belatedly that the portal to DAVE's Sanctum was active. Her furrowed brow and searching eyes turned on me, silently demanding an explanation.
"It's her magic," I said softly, meeting her gaze. "Moira. The magic I use comes from her, and this portal, and everything you've seen here, exists because of her. She gave me the spark and the ability to share it with others."
Lilia's expression didn't waver, but her hands clenched slightly at her sides, the weight of her curiosity and doubt palpable. She pointed first at me, then at the portal, her gestures sharp and deliberate.
I offered her a tentative smile. "I can share it with you, Lilia. If you're willing to trust me."
Her eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise flashing across her face, followed by a hesitant shake of her head. Doubt lingered there, a fear of the unknown.
"Moira," I said internally, "can you help me out here? Can you analyze her potential?"
Moira's voice responded instantly, warm and eager. "Of course, Vessel. One moment."
A swirl of golden light appeared in the air before us, motes dancing like fireflies as the clan gasped in unison, their awe palpable. On the swirling disk, golden text materialized, visible to everyone.
Name: Lilia MacEwan
Race: Human Female, Nomad
Age: 26
Class: Not Defined
Potential Values:
Combat Magic: Above Average
Healing Magic: Peak Ultimate
Utility Magic: Genius
Melee Combat: Average
Bloodline Traits:
Undiscovered Traits: 3
Detected Trait: Soul of Song (Potential to weave magic into song and harp when used together.)
Stats:
Strength: 11
Dexterity: 16
Constitution: 12
Wisdom: 22
Intellect: 19
Charisma: 36
For a moment, silence reigned. The clan members seemed frozen, their gazes locked on the glowing text.
"What is this?" Ruari whispered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
"It's her potential," I said simply, my own awe mingling with theirs. "What she's capable of, if she chooses to take the spark."
Lilia's hands clasped at her chest, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She turned to her father, her silent plea written clearly across her face. With little hops of desperation, she gestured from her throat as if singing full and clear, lip-syncing a song that wasn't playing yet. It made me smile, her plea unmistakable: "Please, Father. I want to sing!"
Ewan rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze shifting from the glowing disk to the portal, then to me. Finally, his eyes landed on Sorcha, who nodded slowly, her intense gaze fixed on the information.
Sorcha stepped forward, her presence commanding without a word. Ewan stepped back, deferring to her judgment, his respect for her authority clear. Her piercing eyes turned to me, their weight pressing down.
"You may," Sorcha said finally, her voice low and resolute, like the toll of a distant bell. "Lilia, this spark belongs to you, if you'll have it. But," she continued, her expression softening as she looked at me, "I want it too. The spark. Not to see my potential displayed like this, I would prefer to discover it on my own, in my own time. But I wish to walk this path as well."
Lilia's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. She spun around and gave Sorcha a quick, affectionate hug before looking back at me, her expression pleading and hopeful.
I nodded at Sorcha, respect clear in my voice. "That can be arranged. But as with all of this, what happens next is between you and Moira."
Moira's voice chimed in, rich with warmth and pride. "This is exactly what must be, Vessel. Thank you."
I watched Lilia, whose sparkling green eyes shone with excitement and nervous energy. Her trust in me swelled my heart.
The spark began to fill my hand, glowing brighter and brighter with motes of light. Moira's voice guided me softly, "More. Make the spark large, it will be required for this one." I obliged, gathering more in my other hand, bringing them together into a large, intangible sphere of magic that shimmered with popping bubbles of energy. I held it out to Lilia, its radiance illuminating her face.