The Worn Journal

By morning, Reagan had regained mobility in his ankle, and by afternoon, he was almost healed. It only throbbed lightly when he stepped on the uneven forest ground, however, despite his recovery, they made slower progress than he hoped, because they walked a roundabout path to avoid as many monsters as possible.

Liam spotted the next town on their third morning in the forest. “It looks a lot nicer than Louthe,” he said, “The very air in front of it appears to shimmer.”

A grin spread across Elisa’s face. “I’ve only ever read about the magic barriers! I didn’t think we’d encounter one this far from the capital!”

She rushed ahead in her excitement, forgetting about Reagan, who still trudged behind at a slower pace. Then, catching herself, she said, “Sorry, I got too excited.” As she walked back, she regarded Reagan’s satchel with a frown. “Will that pass through the barrier?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“The barrier is meant to keep beasts out, so with the Lapoursin hide and such in there…” she trailed off.

“I never needed to hunt around the capital, so I hadn’t considered that,” Reagan lied. He glanced up at Liam, and the worrying thought crossed his mind: Will Liam be able to cross the barrier? “I guess we’ll see when we arrive.”

The three trudged on in silence until they reached the path leading to the edge of the forest. There, Reagan saw what Liam had meant -- it looked like someone had crushed mica and suspended the powder in the air itself. He stared at it in wonder, thinking, My barriers never produce such an effect.

“I’ll try passing a claw through first and then-” The end of Reagan’s sentence was cut off by a loud cry that shook the trees at the edge of the forest.

Elisa reacted the fastest. Before Reagan could finish turning toward the sound, she shoved him hard, forcing him through the barrier. He felt the shift in the air around him, like it was growing cooler and lighter, and was relieved when his satchel passed through without issue.

Elisa came stumbling in after him, followed by Liam, who seemed to slow at the barrier, like he was trying to push a stubborn door, but to Reagan’s relief, he crossed it unharmed. Seconds later, a beast rushed out of the forest.

It was not a Lapoursin. At least twice the height and width of the Lapoursin, this monstrosity had mismatched wings and ram-like horns atop its head. It had no fur, instead sporting an oily slick skin that was so undulated, it looked like the creature had partially melted in the sun then hardened again. It had a row of sharp, shining teeth, two of them broken, and two short arms with sharp talons at the end. Three large red eyes blinked at them as it roared again and rammed into the barrier.

It crashed into the translucent wall as though the barrier was made of bricks. Once. Twice. Each time starting further back to gather momentum.

Reagan watched in horror, waiting for the barrier to break and for the creature to attack them. He readied his sword and kept his gaze steadily fixed on the creature, hardly daring to blink for fear of missing the moment the barrier would fail.

But it didn’t.

Even as the creature rammed into it three, four, five times, the barrier never failed.

Reagan breathed a sigh of relief, but only when the monster finally retreated into the woods, denied its prey.

“Thanks,” Reagan said, turning to Elisa as he sheathed his sword.

“Don’t mention it.” The smile she gave in response was radiant and joyful, and it matched her youthful face much more than the nervous look she normally wore.

With the threat gone, the three turned and entered Baktry.

Unlike Louthe, Baktry looked modern and cheerful. Without tall, domineering walls blocking out most of the light, the town was sunny and bright. Although people glanced toward Reagan and Elisa, nobody gave them a second look.

The first few houses were lightly weathered, owing to the humidity coming in from the forest, but further down the wide cobbled street, the homes looked brand new, with clean shingles and evenly red bricks. Windows sparkled in the sun. Flowers thrived in the small gardens that peppered either side of the clean path.

The townspeople dressed in vibrant clothes: bright red waistcoats and flowing blue dresses, loud purple blouses and clean white slacks. Everywhere Reagan looked, he saw something new. Gone were the muted colors he was accustomed to.

Elisa broke the silence first. Turning to Reagan and Liam, she said, “Thank you for escorting me through the forest. I’m going to seek out a boarding home and some work, but I hope to see you around town.” Then, with a cheerful smile, she walked away down the main street.

Reagan waved until she disappeared, then took a similar path into the heart of Baktry.

After inquiring at the nearby pub, Reagan learned Baktry had a large library on the other side of town, with the town hall halfway in between the general store and the library.

He walked with a lightness to his step. The air in Baktry smelled fresh, and the people smiled more, too. Even at the busiest time of day, he was jostled and bumped fewer times than on his last day in Louthe.

Still, as he approached town hall, a ball of dread formed in his stomach. He had yet to come up with a better excuse for searching through town records, and he dreaded eliciting the wrong reaction a second time. He prayed nobody would ask as he stood before the modest building.

The walls were clean and painted a bright white. Eight spotless windows surrounded what he could see of the building, allowing light to spill into the spacious main room.

The clerk, a young woman with silver hair, asked no questions as she led Reagan to the basement of the town hall. “Here are our archives,” she said. “Feel free to peruse as you’d like, and let me know if you have questions. I’ll be nearby, sorting some files. Nothing can leave the room, but you’re welcome to stay until closing.” After finishing her rehearsed speech, she left Reagan by a set of tall shelves stuffed with books and thick folders.

Reagan looked the shelves up and down, hoping something would stand out, but nothing did. With a soft sigh, he moved to one end of the room and started methodically going down the shelves.

On the second bookshelf, amidst the town charters, birth and death records, and some archived news clippings, lay a worn journal. The cover was a thick brown leather, frayed at the edges, and spotted with mildew. The title and author were illegible, and a musty odor rose from the pages.

As Reagan held it, however, he felt a familiar warmth in his fingertips, and his heart beat faster. He opened the book to reveal the title on the first page: Encyclopaedia of Magike and the author: Patrik Conry. Although the author’s name was unfamiliar, the title sent a tingle of excitement through Reagan as he leafed through the pages.

The first section of the book was dedicated to simpler spells, like basic healing and protective spells. The next focused on meteorological and agricultural spells. Only the last section went into the more complicated spells, and it was phrased as theoretical rather than a manual.

Toward the end of the book, Reagan found the section that made his breath catch. He looked up at Liam, who had been perusing the other shelves, and waited for him to notice.

Reagan pointed down to the section he’d just read:

“Necromantia Animos”

“To return a soul from beyond the veil, one must perform this spell with the soul present, no more than four hours after the being’s passing lest the soul be too far passed to call forward.”

Below that were listed the materials and incantation required for the spell, as well as a warning about the amount of magic it would consume, and the weakened state of the incantor following the ritual.

Reagan memorized every word on the page before thanking the clerk and leaving town hall. As soon as he was outside the two front doors, he said, “We’ll try it first thing tomorrow,” and faced Liam with a genuine grin. For the first time in years, the smile felt at-home on his face, and it made his muscles ache.

“Are you sure it will work? I’ve been dead much longer than four hours…” Liam said hesitantly.

Reagan waved the concern away. “Don’t be ridiculous. That stipulation was in regards to the soul being too far away, but you’re right here. It’ll work.”

A conflicted expression crossed Liam’s face, but he tried his best to match Reagan’s smile as he and Reagan walked away from town hall.