The warm glow of Rainsister's living room pulsed faintly. Highlighting the runic patterns she drew in the air.
Jack, in his specter form, floated closer. Behind his mask, his ethereal eyes absorbed every curve and line.
"Just like the other runes, these aren't merely symbols." Rainsister explained. "They are mystical command codes. The power isn't in their beauty, but in their precision. One wrong sequence, and the ritual fails. Or worse, it misfires."
She meticulously laid out the tenets of the [Runic Communication Ritual]. "To draw it, you need a stable surface. One that can hold the spiritual imprint. A stone wall. A wooden table. For your level, drawing it on air won't work. Not yet."
She continued. "As I've said, the materials are simple... a personal sacrifice. For a human, it's a few drops of their own blood. Or for a specter like Jack, ectoplasm. Then, the ash of any flower. A simple yet potent conduit for fleeting connections."
Jack mentally cataloged the information. Simple materials, relatively easy to acquire.
"Use the ash to draw. Starting form here." Rainsister continued. Her finger traced the communication rune from a specific point. "Once it was done, you activated the rune using a drop of blood, or ectoplasm, at this point. It requires strong intent. A clear image and a name. Or... the spiritual signature of the person you wish to contact is a better choice, if you can project it."
She paused for a few beats and continued. "You infuse that intent into the rune as you channel your spiritual energy. Both parties knowing the rune is crucial for a stable connection. Without it, the other side won't recognize the incoming 'call'."
She then moved to the [Runic Transfer Ritual]. "This one is an extension, a more demanding sibling. The drawing is similar. Starting from this point. Pay attention to this added line. And these added curves."
The goddess looked at the four paying attention to her for a while. "The materials, identical. But the spiritual consumption is significantly higher." She said. "Imagine the communication as a thread, thin and strong. The transfer ritual is akin to weaving a robust rope, capable of bearing weight."
Rainsister paused again. Letting the information sink in.
"You place the item you wish to send directly within this circular point of the rune. Again, focus is very important. You project the target. If the same rune exists near the target, you should automatically be able to visualize the rune waiting there. Don't activate the rune before you can visualize the target rune."
After another short pause, she continued. "Once you activate it, the object is then momentarily sent into the spiritual realm. Traveling along the established connection. And re-materializing on the other side."
"This is why living creatures are impossible." She explained. "Their complex spiritual and physical matrices cannot withstand the momentary dissolution and re-integration. Strong magical items are also problematic; their inherent energies often conflict with the spiritual realm transmission, leading to unpredictable, often destructive, results."
Amaranth White nodded. Her expression was grim but hopeful. "The principle makes sense. So, basic tools, non-living supplies, and materials would be transferable?"
"Exactly." Rainsister affirmed. "Even the un-awakened can use these rituals, provided they have enough spiritual stamina for one or two uses. Of course, their lack of refined control means they'll tire quickly, but the raw power of intent is universal."
She looked at the Lingreen twins, who seemed captivated. Despite the lack of expression on their faces. They were already trying to mimic the hand movements.
The gathering conversations dwindled after the detailed lesson. The attendees practiced the rune drawing and asked some more questions. Baroness Artheim was especially inquisitive here. Asking detailed explanation of the methods and reasoning.
Rainsister offered patient answers to all the questions. However, soon, the time limit approached. Once the one-hour duration passed, Jack found himself back in the familiar, quiet solitude of his study in Lonestone City.
Jack, still in his specter form, didn't waste time. He phased through the wall. Directly to his well-equipped workshop. A place overflowing with arcane instruments, salvaged mechanical parts, and shelves packed with mystic ingredients.
Rune, now glowing a soft, determined amber, moved ahead. Waiting by a clear section of the stone wall.
"Good idea, Rune." Jack murmured.
He looked at a small glass jar filled with dried, vibrant blue petunias. These were not particularly rare. A common mystic ingredient. But they should fit the requirement. Using his telekinesis, he plucked a few. Placing them carefully on a fireproof ceramic plate.
With a mental flick, a tiny, controlled blast of orange energy erupted on the plate. It was a simple [Fire Spark] cantrip. The dry petals caught instantly. Sizzling and curling immediately into fragrant ash.
Jack collected the fine powder onto a small silver tray. On the chosen section of the nearby wall, Jack began to draw using the ash. Filling and staining the wall in precise lines. Mirroring Rainsister's instruction.
Soon, the rune solidified. A simple drawing of interwoven arcs and sharp angles.
"Alright... Amaranth White!" He whispered, focusing his intent. He pictured her in his mind. Along with the feel of her unique spiritual signature. He poured his spiritual energy and a small drip of his ectoplasm into the specific point of the completed [Runic Communication Ritual].
A low hum vibrated through the air. The rune on the wall flared. Glowing momentarily before fading into a stable, ethereal window.
Through it, Jack saw a dim, stone-walled space. Amaranth White's face materialized. Somewhat translucent. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of surprise and relief.
"Jack? It worked! You actually did it!" Her voice, though ethereal, was clear.
"Of course it worked." Jack replied. "Rainsister's not one to teach faulty magic. Now, what do you need? Be specific. I can't send you complicated stuff, but I can probably manage something more practical."
Amaranth quickly composed herself. "Food supplies are critical. We're running low. And tools. Spades, specifically, for clearing rubble. Ropes would be invaluable for navigating dangerous sections. Also, if you have any healing herbs… something like Sunpetal or Glimmerroot. We've sustained minor injuries."
Jack listened. Nodding. "Food, spades, ropes. Got it. I can handle those. Bread is easy. Spades and ropes, no problem. The herbs though... I don't have them."
Amaranth sighed. A faint wisp of frustration. "Understood. The other items would still be a tremendous help, regardless."
"Consider it done." Jack said. "I'll send what I can soon. Prepare your end accordingly. You'll need to draw the receiving rune. A big one."
The connection shimmered, then slowly faded as Jack consciously began to withdraw his spiritual energy from the communication link. Ending the call. He turned to the other side of the workshop. Where a larger, clearer section awaited.
Rune flew over. Her light was pulsing faster. Indicating excitement.
"Right, Rune. Time for round two." Jack said.
He gathered a fresh batch of ash. This time, he drew the [Runic Transfer Ritual] rune on the floor. It was slightly more intricate. And bigger.
Jack then went to his pantry. He grabbed several loaves of dense, nutrient-rich traveler's bread. Individually wrapped in waxed paper.
From his warehouse, he retrieved three sturdy, well-balanced spades with reinforced handles. The leftover tools from the many he used to experiment for creating his steamrune shovel.
Finally, a coil of durable, braided hemp rope joined the pile. These items, mundane as they were, were vital for survival in the wilderness.
He placed the bundle of bread, the spades, and the coiled rope onto the central point of the transfer rune.
Taking a deep breath, Jack focused on Amaranth's location. Mentally visualizing the receiving rune appearing there. Ready to accept the cargo. It existed. He felt the connection instantly.
He poured a significant portion of his spiritual energy and a drop of his ectoplasm into the activation point of the rune. The rune instantly flared with intense silver light. Humming with a deep resonance that vibrated through everything in the workshop.
A moment later, the items vanished. The light subsided. Leaving the rune intact but momentarily inert. Its purpose was fulfilled.
Jack felt the residual fatigue from the spiritual expenditure. A slight dull ache in his core. But a sense of satisfaction surged through him. He had delivered the objects. Amaranth and her companions would, at the very least, have tools and sustenance.
He dispelled his specter form. [Incarnation Shift]. Rapidly shifting into Jack Night, his human persona. The spectral fatigue translated into a physical weariness. A subtle drag on his limbs. He ran a hand through his dark hair.
"Alright! Time to rest." He said.
...
The next morning. The Lonestone sun streamed through the arched windows of Jack and Reina's comfortable house.
Jack Night, a broad-shouldered man with calloused hands and a steady gaze, sat at the breakfast table. Reina, a beautiful woman with long black hair cascading over her shoulders, poured him a steaming cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly baked goods and rich coffee filled the cozy dining room.
They were enjoying their break, after an intense morning exercise. However, a series of urgent knocks echoed from the front door. Interrupting their break.
Jack raised an eyebrow. Exchanging a glance with Reina. Visitors this early were unusual.
"Expecting anyone, Love?" He asked.
"Not that I recall, Dear." Reina replied.
Jack rose. His movements felt fluid and powerful as he strode to the door. He opened it to reveal three familiar teenage faces... Nick Glaiver, Alenna Keener, and Harold Mason.
Jack noticed that the usually social Nick seemed a little subdued. As for Alenna, her expression was as calm and watchful as ever. And Harold, he looked thoughtful. A slight frown on his brow.
All three of them were Mystic Scholar Apprentices from Lonestone Academy. Last time, they were involved in the Deep Silence case together with Jack and Reina.
"Jack! Reina!" Nick blurted out. Relief evident in his voice. "Good, you're both here. We need your help."
Jack opened the door wider. "Come in, Kids. What's wrong?" He invited them.
The trio entered and took their seats in the living room. Their eyes scanned briefly the comfortable, well-appointed house.
Nick went straight to the problem. "It's Mirebarrow. My hometown. There's… a problem. A really strange one."
He paused for a while before explaining further. "For the past week, living puppets have been appearing. Not constructs, not steamrune automatons. Actual puppets, made of wood and cloth. They're attacking people, killing them."
Alenna chimed in with her soft but clear voice. "They have taken nine victims already."
Jack leaned against the doorframe. His arms were crossed. Rune perched on his shoulder. "Living puppets, you say? That's… specific. Sir Shellarrow couldn't solve it? He's still there, isn't he?"
Nick picked up the narrative. "Sir Garath Shellarrow managed to destroy them. He crushed them, burned them, even dissolved them with holy water. But then, the next day, they reappeared. Perfectly intact. Every single one. Back in Mirebarrow, doing the exact same thing. Hunting their preys."
Jack's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Interesting."