Fabrisse Book 2 (Chapter 18)

They had to devise a new strategy, though Fabrisse didn’t think the problem lied in strategizing, but more so in how they actually implemented their plan. Liene insisted on not murdering the pest, which ruled out the most efficient approaches, so they had to settle for creative measures.

“Bait them,” Veliane said, rubbing her temple as if she were tutoring children. “Everything moves for a reason. If we can find what they want, they’ll come to us.”

“They want to not be near us,” Fabrisse muttered.

Veliane ignored him. “Do you have anything they like?”

At once, everyone’s eyes turned to Liene. She clutched the satchel still dangling from her shoulder, where more random glowing objects might or might not be waiting to detonate at eye-level. “What? I don’t carry carrots around!”

“They don’t eat carrots,” Fabrisse said automatically, even though he had no actual evidence for this. He simply couldn’t imagine a magical hare caring about carrots when there were far more interesting mineral vibrations in the soil.

“Then what do they eat?” Liene challenged.

“Quartz dust.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Liene said. “You just like quartz.”

“Fine, fine,” Fabrisse put his hands in front of him, “I don’t know what they eat, but I know they are known hoarders. If we take away some items they deem important, they might come back nagging for them.”

“And the items they deem important are . . . rocks.”

“Yes.”

“You only want to follow through with that plan because you want to use that skill that lets you speak with rocks and reveals their emotional state.” Liene placed a hand on her hip.

“. . . Partially.”

Liene exhaled and turned to Sven, who was placing a foot over his mechanical trap that’d triggered. The trap obviously didn’t work as intended, seeing how there was no hare inside. “Do you have anything to contribute?”

“I’m just here to enjoy the ride.” He said as he popped a candy into his mouth. Fabrisse had no clue where he’d stored that.

Veliane pinched the bridge of her nose. For someone so famously self-contained, the gesture was as close to an outburst as Fabrisse had ever seen.

“That’s it,” she said. “Your heads are all . . . not in the task. I’ll take charge before we waste the entire day chasing rabbits.”

Fabrisse opened his mouth, then closed it again. Not rabbits. They’re hares. Different genus, different bone structure, different nesting behavior. Rabbits dig burrows; hares nest aboveground. They have longer hind legs, sharper reflexes, and less domesticated disposition. If we were really chasing rabbits, the whole strategy would be different—

He pressed his lips together. No one needed the taxonomy lecture right now.

Everyone stared at her. Liene even tilted her head in faint disbelief. Veliane didn’t usually take charge; she usually let her silence weigh enough to do the work.

Veliane lifted her stylus, already drawing symbols that Fabrisse couldn’t make out in the air. “Listen. We each have strengths. We’ll use them properly. Lugano—light spells. Can you cast something steady and not chaotic?”

 Liene perked up. “Like a soft beacon? Moonlight glow?”

“Yes. You’ll be lure. Nothing brighter than a lantern. These hares are already frightened; we don’t need them more startled.”

She turned to Fabrisse. “So you can cast environmental earth control spells, right?”

Fabrisse hesitated. “Not . . . earth. But I can do stone.”

“To a sufficient degree, I believe?”

“He’s been training,” Liene cut in. “He masters at least five different control skills now and can cast them simultaneously.”

No I can’t . . .

“Can you at least raise ridges or pillars to steer movement?”

“I can steer movement.” Not what she asked, but Fabrisse assumed it’d be sufficient.

Then her eyes landed on Sven. “And you—actually, what can you do? What’s your core affinity?”

Sven grinned as if she’d asked him to name his favorite dessert. “Earth and water.”

Veliane actually stopped writing her glyph. “That’s . . . a strange specialization path.”

It’s very strange. Most people go air and fire. The Synod pushes them. Water’s rare enough, but earth and water? He’s basically . . . mud.

Sven looked pleased. “I can do Mud Thaumaturgy. Mud’s as versatile as it’s gross, since it sticks to everything. Have you ever fought mud?

Veliane shook her head.

“Didn’t think so,” Sven added.

“Actually, mud is better at environmental control,” Veliane said.

She’s right. But if Sven can cast mud, he’s already doing the thing I can do, but better . . . Veliane finds the hare; Liene guides them; Sven traps them; and Veliane captures them. What do I do then? I can’t do anything these guys are already capable of.

“You should throw stones at the hares, Fabri!” Liene declared, then nodded to herself enthusiastically.

“Pardon?”

“I can only guide the hares after someone’s lured them out of their hiding. Your stone flinging has good accuracy.”

Fabrisse stared at her. “You have Lightstrike.”

“I forgot how to cast Lightstrike.” Liene grinned, hands behind her back.

“You forgot. Right.”

“It’s a great chance to hone your skill!” Sven weighed in. “You should use every possible opportunity to get better. I’ll gladly leave the trapping to you too if you want.”

“I can do the throwing.”

“That’s settled.” Veliane finished her glyphwork: a beige-glowing lattice that floated just above her palm. With a tug of her stylus, she dragged it forward, and the construct obeyed.

Another version of her detection spell, Fabrisse realized—but portable.

Veliane walked ahead first, and the rest followed.

***

Veliane’s lattice haloed the grass at their right flank.

“There,” she whispered. Fabrisse squinted, spotting nothing but a ripple of green blades under the wind. More than five meters, without his mitts nor. He adjusted the weight of the stone in his palm, feeling its grainy chill as he transferred his Lodestone from the satchel to his robe pocket.

“Why do you still have rocks inside your robe pockets if you’re not planning on flinging them?” Veliane saw him handling the stone and asked.

“Uh . . .” There was no way he could explain Celestial Hoarding. He couldn’t even explain his Shadowed Reposition Protocol earlier, and had to settle with ‘it’s my innate ability’. Both Liene and Veliane had accepted his explanation without question.

“Shhh,” Liene cut in to save him. “Talk later. Stone the hare now.”

Fabrisse took a deep breath. He didn’t need to hit it. Just frighten it out. That was the plan.

But something eased in his chest as he drew back his arm. The tension of strategy, of proving himself, of Liene’s absurd Lightstrike excuse—gone. He was just a boy with a stone, and a target. His breathing slowed. The world steadied.

He let fly.

The stone cut the air in a clean line.

A ‘bam’ cracked across the grass. Everyone froze, watching for the hare to bolt. Sven had his staff already raised, and the soil a few strides ahead of him sagged, darkened, and in the space of a breath softened into gurgling thick mud. 

But there was nothing. The grass shivered once, then went still.

Liene tiptoed forward, golden light flickering from her fingers. She crouched, parted the grass, and gasped. “Fabri!” she called, grinning back at them. “You hit it in the head! Knocked it out in one shot!”

Liene reached in with both hands and pulled the limp hare from the grass, cradling it like a prize. Its ears flopped against her wrist. “Completely out cold,” she announced, delighted. Veliane turned to Fabrisse and gave a small, approving nod. 

“Good job!” Sven barked.

The words landed heavier than Fabrisse expected. A warmth rose in his chest, swelling against the constant knot of self-doubt. Pride—real, solid pride—slid through him like the weight of the stone had transferred into his bones instead of leaving his hand. His cheeks burned, but he couldn’t help the sudden, fierce joy at being seen, at not fumbling the task for once.

Veliane held out her palm, and the beige lattice she’d been maintaining peeled open like a net. “Give it here,” she said. Liene passed the hare over without protest, and the construct folded around the creature’s body.

[Nibberhare Count: 4/5]

They hadn’t gone ten more paces before faint rings spread out across Veliane’s glyph surface again. She raised a hand. “Left. Near the scrub.”

Fabrisse was already fishing for a stone. He weighed it, narrowed his eyes at the ripple of grass, and let it fly. The stone plunked into the soil just beside the patch.

But the hare startled anyway. The blades shivered, then burst open as a streak of fur bolted free.

“Got it!” Liene’s voice rang, and her fingers danced. Wisps of gold sprang from her hands. They hurled in at the hare’s sides, pressing it in until its zigzagging path funneled straight ahead.

Veliane jogged over and thrust her glyph forward. The lattice peeled open into a geometric snare as the creature let out frantic cries. It dropped neatly around the struggling creature, cinching shut with a snap of pale light.

The hare vanished into containment.

[Nibberhare Count: 5/5]

[QUEST COMPLETED: Vermin Control: Nibberhares]

Reward: + 250 EXP

• 1 STR
• 1 DEX

[Progress to Level 7: 4484/4550]

Veliane exhaled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “That,” she said, “is how it’s supposed to work.”

It’s still way over-engineered, but who cares? I’m doing well.

“Good work, team!” Sven tapped his staff into the ground twice. “It’s a bit past lunchtime already. Let’s make it ten before our stomach rumbles.”