Field Entry #027

Field Entry #027: Apparently We Have a Home Now

The tailor’s bill was significantly more than I had expected.

I stared at it.

Then I glanced over at Kaeldric.

He was standing beside me with his arms folded across his chest, entirely unbothered by the number written at the bottom of the parchment.

He could read it… he just chose not to.

I looked back at the parchment.

Then… at the counter filled with neatly folded piles of clothing it had taken the tailor a week to finish.

And this was only half the order. The other half wouldn’t be finished for another week or so. The tailor was waiting on the craftsman down the street to finish preparing the Stone Koi scales for our chain mail outfits.

“Kael.”

“Yes?”

“This is a lot of clothes.”

He glanced down.

“It is.”

“You don’t sound concerned.”

“I am not.”

I slowly turned my head toward him.

“That’s not the point.”

Kael blinked.

“It is precisely the point.”

“No, the point is that we just spent enough money on clothing to feed a small village.”

“The village would have to eat the clothing.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Immensely.”

The tailor coughed into one hand.

I looked over at him.

He was doing a terrible job of hiding his smile.

“How much would it cost to have another set made?”

Kael immediately turned toward me.

“Amariel.”

“What?”

“We do not need another set.”

“We absolutely need another set.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you.”

His golden eyes narrowed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means the moment we leave Wendikai, you’re going to find a reason to tear something.”

“I do not tear clothing.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You ripped your shirt climbing out of a tree a few days ago.”

“It was an aggressively branched tree. And, may I add, it attacked first.”

The tailor finally laughed.

I shook my head as I pulled out Soot’s jumpsuit to show the tailor since Kael also wanted Soot to have a Stone Koi scale armor suit.

“You made this?” The tailor asked in wonder as he looked over Soot’s jumpsuit. “With a pelt from the dungeon?”

“You recognize it,” Kael murmured, watching the older man inspect my stitch work.

“Of course, Sir Kaeldric. I would not be able to call myself a tailor of Wendikai if I did not even recognize the pelts that came from my own dungeon.”

I felt Kael’s pride through the bond. He was fast becoming a prideful creature. He believed his dungeon was one of the best, and now the little town outside it was constantly surprising him with even more pride to carry in his chest.

We paid the entire bill after the tailor finished measuring Soot for his jumpsuits. I figured it would make the tailor less nervous if we went ahead and paid everything in full - especially since we’d come in two more times for more clothing requests that Kael insisted we needed.

Technically, Kael paid the bill.

I was still trying to convince him that money was not an infinite resource despite the fact that he had apparently spent four hundred and thirty-seven years accumulating treasure beneath a dungeon.

He remained unconvinced…

Especially after our payday from the Hunter’s Association from the things we’d sold them. That had seemingly lit a fire under his tail because he immediately wanted to spend more money in town.

And he wouldn’t tell me why he’d asked the tailor to make more of the coin pouches. Or why he had several handfuls of them in a Resonance bag tucked away inside his things in the first place.

When we left the tailor…

He immediately led us to the market.

Again.

“Kael.”

“Yes?”

“We were just here yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And the day before that.”

“Yes.”

“And the day before that.”

He stopped walking.

I nearly walked into him.

He looked down at me with an expression of complete sincerity.

“The merchants are here.”

I stared at him.

“That’s generally how markets work.”

“They are merchants of Wendikai.”

“I know.”

“They need customers.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You are buying things you don’t need.”

“We need food so that when we leave on a ‘field trip’, as you say, we will have plenty of supplies.”

“You bought seventeen loaves of bread yesterday.”

“We ate them.”

“Between two people and a spider?”

“Soot ate two. He did enjoy your garlic bread.”

I glanced over.

Soot was currently perched on Kael’s head, looking entirely innocent.

He made a tiny clicking noise.

“Traitor,” I muttered.

Kael continued walking.

I followed, because someone had to stop him from buying everything.

This had become a routine in the last week since we’d walked out of the dungeon and earned our freedom.

Every morning, we packed our room at the Inn into my satchel and then we went into town. Kael wanted to visit the market, possibly stop by the tailor again, and then wander the streets of Wendikai, following the carefully and beautifully drawn map that he added to with every daily walk.

At first, I thought it was because he enjoyed the food variety in the market. It was so much different than the dungeon.

Then I realized it wasn’t the food.

He knew the merchants.

Not personally, perhaps.

Not all of them.

But he knew the streets.

The shops.

The stalls.

The people who had lived here for years.

He knew which baker opened before dawn and which fruit merchant always overfilled his baskets. He knew which butcher had the best cuts and which elderly woman sold herbs from a stall tucked into the corner of the market square. He had apparently even found which merchants would trade him their bruised or unsellable food for tamales or a few coins.

He knew Wendikai.

For four hundred and thirty-seven years, he had watched over this city’s dungeon.

Silently.

From beneath it.

The Warden of Wendikai.

A creature powerful enough to terrify armies had spent centuries guarding a dungeon because he had decided that the safest place for the hunters of Wendikai was one where the dungeon’s guardian could watch over them.

And now that same powerful creature was walking through the market carrying a loaf of bread, sharing pieces of it with the small jumping spider riding on his head between his horns.

It was strange.

People were starting to realize it, too.

The first few days after the king’s appearance, most people had simply stared.

Now they whispered as we continued on our midmorning stroll so Kael could finish checking the markets.

I caught it as we passed a pair of hunters.

“That’s him.”

“The Sovereign?”

“The Warden.”

Kael didn’t react.

He was too busy examining a basket of what looked like peppers.

I glanced over my shoulder.

The hunters immediately looked away.

I turned back.

Kael held up a pepper.

“Do you think this is spicy like yours?”

“Potentially.”

“I would like three.”

“You’re going to eat all three?”

“Eventually you will cook it in something.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

He put four into the basket. Then thought better of it and got a whole basketful instead.

I sighed.

He was so used to hunting everyday in the dungeon that not hunting and gathering seemed to make him antsy.

At least he was happy.

And that was what mattered.

Still, there was something else I had started noticing.

It happened every day.

Usually when we were walking around so he could map more of Wendikai.

Kael would stop.

Not visibly.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

His steps would simply slow.

His head would turn.

And his eyes would find the dungeon entrance.

Every time.

Just for a moment.

Then he would continue walking.

The first time, I thought he was simply checking on it.

The second time, I assumed he was making sure the hunters hadn’t caused trouble.

By the fifth time, I knew better.

He missed it.

Not the dungeon itself.

The responsibility.

The certainty of knowing that if something went wrong, he would be there.

For centuries, that dungeon had been his entire world.

Now he’d finally left it, and soon we would travel.

And even though we weren’t gone yet, part of him was already looking back.

So when he did it again that afternoon when we were leaving the market, I caught his arm.

He stopped, but his eyes didn’t waver from it.

“Kael.” He looked at me. “You keep looking at the dungeon.”

His gaze shifted past me.

“I am checking it.”

I smiled.

“Do you want to go see it?”

His expression softened.

“Not yet.”

“Then what do you want?”

He was quiet for a moment.

“I want to know that it will be watched.”

That answer hurt more than I expected.

So I squeezed his arm gently.

“Then let’s make sure it is.”

His eyes returned to mine, read my train of thought.

“The Arcane Society.” He tilted his head. “What about them?”

“We can ask them to send word immediately if they detect any abnormal mana fluctuations,” I paused and thought about it. “And we can ask them to keep us informed about your layer.”

Kael’s expression became serious. He’d been avoiding returning to the Arcane Society since he’d taken his human form. He hadn’t wanted to be studied again.

He nodded slowly.

“That would be acceptable.”

I smiled.

“See? We can leave Wendikai without you having to spend the entire journey wondering whether your dungeon is exploding.”

“My dungeon does not explode.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.”

He gave me a look.

I smiled wider.

So we turned around, abandoning our afternoon walk of Wendikai for now.

The Arcane Society wasn’t far.

And apparently, neither was our ability to acquire more information.

The moment we stepped into the Arcane Society, the scholars flocked to us, gently leading us to the middle of the lobby. Soot immediately headed for the ceiling to escape the Scholars.

“Magister Aren will be notified of your arrival,” an elf scholar began before disappearing through a doorway to the halls beyond the lobby.

And then that’s when the questions started.

“Sir Kaeldric, now that we can comfortably sit and converse with you, would you be willing to answer some questions about Wendikai dungeon?”

I couldn’t focus on Kael’s response because three elves were asking me a question of their own.

“Lady Amariel, would you have a moment to discuss this ‘photograph’, as Magister Aren calls it?”

I actually smiled at that. Of course they’d probably been itching to get their hands on cameras now.

“Yes, Amariel,” Kael called from the table. The elf scholars around me parted so I could see him sitting at the table with a handful of scholars and a freshly made pot of tea. “We can sit and discuss the Scholar’s questions over pie.”

Kael didn’t appreciate the mental laughter. He shot me a dirty look but otherwise remained silent as I pulled apple pies from my satchel.

By the time Aren returned with the messenger barely two minutes later, we were sitting at the table having pie and tea.

Once the tables were cleared of food, I noticed the scholars around Kael pulled out pens and notebooks and took turns asking him questions about the dungeon, his improvements, and his confession of changing some things by spying on them for ideas on how to.

That confession had gotten lots of excitement.

Though not nearly as much excitement as my camera got when I showed it to the three scholars who wanted to see if they could replicate the camera here.

But… since I’d been experimenting with my satchel after accidentally making copies of my field guide… I’d made copies of my camera to give to the Arcane Society.

Well… technically, I’d just pulled new cameras from my bag until I had a few dozen, pulling from the memory of when I’d first bought my camera itself.

After I explained what everything was, I handed over the small Resonance bag that contained cameras, SD cards, and rechargeable batteries along with the small photo printer.

Apparently… some scholars developed skills of mana manipulation, and could tell how something was made and from what by enveloping it in a small mana bubble.

It was odd watching the elf take a seat at the table, hold a camera in one hand, and then envelope it with mana before another camera seemingly popped into existence in his other hand. Another scholar stood beside him, taking each camera as soon as it appeared and tucking it into a crate so the mana manipulating elf didn’t have to stop.

Occasionally he would stop, though, but just to absorb a mana pearl to continue working.

“Is that really what you meant by copiers?” I whispered to Aren, who laughed loudly.

“Yes. I assume a copier is something else in your world?”

“Uh, yeah. Except it’s a machine that can only copy paper.” I motioned to what the elf scholar was doing. “Not… all that! That’s fucking amazing!”

Aren gave me a bashful look.

“He’s already copied my biscuit and fries and we keep them in the kitchen now.” I glanced at him in shock, causing him to laugh again. “The Arcane Society is very good at keeping its secrets, Amariel. You do not have to worry about things discussed or given here to make it outside the Society Walls unless we explicitly wish it to. Virelia is still not aware of how we copy things.”

“Is that why the Society has a lot of power?”

My question made Aren sigh.

“The kingdoms of Virelia would be much like the countries of your world. They are governed by kings, queens, or councils, and their borders have changed many times throughout history. The Arcane Society and the Hunter’s Association are different. They belong to no one kingdom.” He paused, seemed to think about his words. “They existed before many of our kingdoms did. They survived wars, collapsed dynasties, and changing borders. A king may deny their authority, but he cannot easily deny their necessity.”

NATO wasn’t exactly what I’d call them, but it was close enough.

“Is there any country that doesn’t let the Society or the Association in?” He shook his head. “Really?”

“We have branches across all of Virelia. And it has been a week since we’ve been fielding requests from other branches to have Kaeldric come at once to help.”

We glanced toward Kael, who was explaining how he left his layer for the first time - and the Noctari he saved in order to get that knowledge. He had questions of his own to ask - like what were Noctari, could he make Veils outside the dungeon the same as he made them inside…

I’d caught him writing a list of questions last night when I’d mentioned we’d eventually have to go by the Arcane Society before we eventually left town to talk to them about the dungeon. He had come armed with pie and time to pick the scholar’s brains as much as they seemed to want to pick his.

Aren listened carefully while I explained what we wanted from the Arcane Society.

Information, once it was had, regarding the dragon hatchlings and confirmation of whether both would be required to activate the hunters’ passage.

And, most importantly, instructions that if something at all happened to the dungeon after we left, someone was to tell us. Immediate notification of severe mana fluctuations, anything.

Aren promised to see it done.

As he walked us to the door just before dinner time, he had given us one more piece of information.

Stonekin - Virelia’s version of dwarves.

Specifically, a mining settlement in Khadar’s Pass. Apparently, the same town had access to a dungeon that would be closing within a few months due to mana instability.

Which meant miners.

Which meant stone.

Which meant builders.

And a dungeon chalk full of twelve layers of resources that supplied areas far and wide.

I looked at Kael.

He looked at me.

We both knew exactly what came next.

Our house.

Or rather-

What was underneath our future house.

“We need a basement,” I said.

“A large one,” Kael agreed.

Aren stared at us.

“How large?”

I thought about it. Between storage as a regular basement, maybe a few floors for an undergound greenhouse, and things we wanted to hide like our dungeon flora… We needed space.

“Twenty floors at least.”

Aren stopped walking.

“Twenty?”

“Yes.”

“Floors?”

“Yes.”

“Of basement?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me for several seconds.

Then he looked at Kael.

Kael nodded solemnly.

“Twenty sounds reasonable.”

Aren sighed.

“I’ll introduce you to the Stonekin builders in town when you are ready.”

“Wonderful.”

Instead of heading back to the inn, Kael turned toward our piece of land. We’d been exploring it every day since we’d accepted the king’s proposal, giving Kael time to map the surrounding land and me time to get a better feel for what would eventually become our home.

“You said you tire of being at the inn,” Kael started when I glanced at him questioningly. “We can camp on our land now. I have gotten answers to my questions.”

“The Veil questions?”

He nodded. Then he stepped closer and lowered his head until he could look me in the eye as he spoke inside my mind.

“I can make us a Veil chamber inside your tent.”

“No way,” I whispered, staring up at him in shock.

He nodded once, solemnly.

And that was how we ended up on the hill of our land overlooking Wendikai. I Resonance’d us a tent from my memories before patiently teaching Kael how to pitch it. We even faced the opening of the tent toward the dungeon entrance so we could walk out in the morning and see it.

“Are you sure this isn’t big enough as it is?” I asked when we were done and we’d taken a step back to admire our work. I’d obviously picked the tent my family had used on our actual camping trips - three small rooms and one big room in the middle of the tent for a communal space. But, at the end of the day, it was just a tent and not a Veil chamber.

“You would not have nearly enough space inside there for your stove… or your grandmother’s table.” I blinked up at him. “I would create a Veil for us to have many things - such as the bathing pool you are so fond of-”

“Say less!” I ordered, pointing toward the tent “Start working, Sir Kaeldric. You’re the only thing standing in the way of my own personal bath, buddy.”

He laughed as he kneeled before the tent entrance, but his laughter died down as he got serious.

For a moment, he simply stared at the ground. Then Kael leaned forward, resting his hands against his knees.

I waited.

Nothing happened.

“Everything ok?”

“It works best if I picture the space I want in as much detail as I can manage. The Scholars claim mana is only as good as the one who wields it.”

Ahh. Seems he’d indeed picked their brains today for this project.

That’s when his eyes closed.

The air changed.

I felt it before I saw it.

The mana around us seemed to… hesitate.

The breeze died against my skin.

The grass beneath my boots stopped moving.

Soot came running to hide in my arms because he could feel the mana being manipulated around us.

Even the faint hum I’d grown accustomed to feeling whenever Kael was near seemed to pull inward, as though the entire world had suddenly taken a breath and was waiting to see what he would do with it.

Kael lifted one hand.

His claws curled slightly.

And then he pulled.

I actually took a step backward.

There was no flash. No explosion. No brilliant magical circle appearing beneath his feet.

Instead, the mana itself came loose.

It peeled away from the air in thin, shimmering strands, almost like invisible threads suddenly made visible. They gathered around his claws, twisting and knotting themselves together as Kael slowly drew his hand toward himself.

The sensation was wrong.

Not dangerous.

Just… wrong.

Like watching someone reach into a wall and pull out pieces of the space behind it.

“Kael?”

His eyes remained closed.

“Do not move.”

I froze.

The mana continued to gather.

Some of it came from the earth beneath us. Some from the air. Some from farther away, stretching toward him in faint ribbons that disappeared into the horizon.

And then I realized something.

He wasn’t creating mana.

He was moving it.

Pulling it out of the world around us and gathering it into one place - the tent.

The strands began to circle him.

Faster.

Until the air beside his outstretched hand distorted.

I blinked.

The hill was still there.

The grass was still there.

But inside the tent, something had appeared that hadn’t been there a heartbeat ago.

Darkness.

Not a shadow.

A space.

It looked impossibly deep, like someone had cut a hole into the world and forgotten to put anything on the other side.

Kael’s claws tightened.

The darkness widened.

A sound like fabric tearing rolled across the hill.

I flinched.

And then the Veil opened.

The darkness folded outward.

Not like a door.

Like the world itself had been pulled apart.

Beyond it was no longer the tent.

There was a room.

A real room.

I stared.

Kael opened his eyes.

He looked almost unbearably pleased with himself.

“I have succeeded.”

I looked from him to the impossible room hidden inside the tent.

I stared at him.

“Kael.”

“Yes?”

“That is a house.”

His brow furrowed.

“It is a chamber.”

“It has walls.”

“Yes.”

“A ceiling.”

“Yes.”

“Floor?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a house.”

He considered this.

Then nodded.

“A room… not unlike the one at the Inn.”

I sighed as Soot jumped from my arms and scrambled inside to explore the newly created Veil chamber.

Of course.

Of course a dragon who spent four hundred and thirty-seven years living inside a dungeon would think creating an extra-dimensional room inside a camping tent was a perfectly reasonable solution to not wanting to sleep at an inn.

I ran a hand down my face.

The Veil hummed quietly before us.

And for the first time, I understood why Kael had been so interested in learning how Veils worked.

He hadn’t wanted another storage space.

He’d wanted to know whether he could make home wherever we were.

Like how he’d made himself a Veil chamber on each layer of his dungeon. Only… Now he got to take the Veil chamber with him.

He stood and wiped his pants off before bowing slightly at me.

“After you,” he ordered politely.

I ducked into the entrance and then paused in awe to look around.

It was a cave, like his other made Veil chambers in the dungeon.

Of course it was a cave.

I probably shouldn’t have expected anything else. He was a dragon after all.

The ceiling stretched so high above me that the little tent I had Resonance’d suddenly felt like a joke. Warm stone curved overhead in great sweeping arches, the walls uneven and natural, as though we’d somehow stepped into the heart of a mountain rather than a space that had been sitting inside a tent five feet away.

Except this wasn’t any cave I’d ever seen.

There were alcoves tucked into the sides.

Everywhere.

In between half of the alcove doorways were shelves carved naturally into the walls. Kael had somehow managed to make the stone smooth beneath my feet while leaving everything else wonderfully rough and organic.

And there was so much space.

I took another step inside.

Then another.

Then something moved above my head.

I looked up.

Tiny shadows darted between the stones.

A few small insects crawled along the upper ledges, disappearing into little cracks in the rock.

I smiled.

“Soot’s going to love this.”

Almost on cue, something skittered across the wall.

Soot shot past me.

Eight little legs scrambling over the stone as he immediately began investigating every crevice he could reach.

His excitement pulsed through our bond so strongly that I could practically feel him vibrating.

I laughed.

“He approves.”

Kael’s expression softened as he watched the spider disappear into another crack.

“I made the upper passages wide enough for any of his sizes.”

I looked up again.

And there they were.

Dozens of openings.

Some were no larger than my hand.

Others disappeared entirely into the rock.

There were ledges and overhangs and narrow passages running around the upper walls, creating an entire second world above us.

Soot had just found heaven.

I looked back toward the center of the room.

Then I noticed the lines.

Thin lengths of cord stretched from one wall to another, some low enough for me to reach, others suspended higher overhead.

Clotheslines.

I stared.

“You even made me places to hang laundry.”

“You dislike damp clothing.”

“Kael…” He hummed behind me. “This is enormous.”

“I did not wish you to feel confined.” I turned around. He looked genuinely puzzled by my reaction. “You said you disliked the inn because there was not enough room for your things.”

“My things?”

“Your things.”

He gestured toward the room.

I looked around again.

Oh.

Oh, he had been listening.

There was a wide, flat section of stone along one wall of shelves that was almost certainly meant for my grandmother’s table. Another open space near it was large enough for both wood stoves and the ridiculous collection of cooking supplies I’d somehow accumulated since arriving in Virelia.

There were shelves carved into two stone walls of what I would assume the common room would be since he’d even made a hearth like the room at the Inn had just beside the tent door.

Some shelves were at eye level.

Others climbed higher and higher along the walls, disappearing toward the ceiling.

I laughed softly.

“You made me shelves.”

“I have seen you acquire many things. And then grumble as you have to dig through your bag for them.”

“I don’t grumble.” Kael raised an eyebrow. I pointed at him. “Don’t start.”

He smiled.

I walked farther into the chamber.

The sleeping alcove was tucked into one of the larger openings along the far wall.

On the three sides there were little sleeping nooks tucked into the stone where we could probably put a mattress or a nest of pelts.

It reminded me of the inn.

Only…

Better.

There was no ceiling pressing down on us.

No other rooms on the other side of the wall.

No muffled voices from strangers through the oak door.

Just us.

I brushed my fingers over the smooth stone beside one of the beds.

“You remembered.”

“Of course.”

Something in my chest squeezed.

I turned before he could see it.

Another alcove caught my attention.

I walked toward it and stopped.

There were tables of stone.

Actual tables.

Several of them.

Kael had apparently created a little greenhouse corner for me, with enough room to arrange my plants beneath the warm, faintly glowing mana that seemed to drift through the stone.

I stared at it.

“You made me a plant room.”

“You said they require different amounts of light.”

I looked over my shoulder.

“And you remembered that too?”

“You speak of your plants frequently.”

I smiled.

“That’s because they’re like my children.”

“I had suspected.”

I laughed.

Of course he had.

Then I noticed the root curtain.

It hung across an opening near the back of the chamber, woven from thick roots that had somehow grown together into a natural screen.

I pushed them aside.

And nearly squealed.

“KAEL.”

He chuckled behind me.

A pool occupies the center of the alcove beyond the curtain.

Steam curled lazily from its surface.

Warm, faintly luminous water filled the natural stone basin, disappearing beneath the far edge where I could hear the gentle trickle of water feeding back into itself.

I turned slowly.

It matched the one in his Veil chamber… only bigger and with shelves in the stone near the pool.

“You said you enjoyed bathing there.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I pointed toward it.

“You’re my favorite person.”

“I am aware.”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

He laughed.

I pushed the root curtain aside again and stepped out of the bathing alcove, already imagining how many hours I could spend in there.

I covered my mouth.

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

Not a polite laugh.

Not the little breath of amusement I’d been giving him all afternoon.

I laughed until my stomach hurt.

Kael watched me with that same slightly puzzled smile.

“What?”

“You made a Veil in a tent for us.”

I looked around at the absurdly enormous chamber.

There was enough room for every possession we owned, every plant I had brought out of the dungeon with me, every kitchen utensil in my Resonance Bag, and probably several generations of future clutter.

And somehow…

Not the room we’d been borrowing at the Inn.

Not even the cave we’d first met in.

Ours.

I slowly turned in a circle.

The stone walls glowed faintly with the mana Kael had woven through them. Warm light caught on the shelves. The sleeping alcove waited on one side. My plants had their own little nook. The hot spring steamed behind its root curtain.

And above it all, impossibly high overhead, were the little cracks and ledges Soot was already exploring.

It was ridiculous.

It was enormous.

It was completely impractical.

It was the most Kael thing I’d ever seen.

And somehow, he’d built it around everything that made me comfortable.

I looked at him.

“How long did you think about this?”

He shrugged.

“Since you began discussed tents and camping on our travels.”

I blinked.

“So you planned all of it?”