Chapter 31:

  Runes and Luxuries

  I heard the door’s lock disengage with a heavy shunk, prompting me to reach out and take hold of the handle once again. This time, when I pulled the latch, the thick wooden door swung inward.

  Sunlight crept in from the open door and illuminated faint outlines of furniture in the room ahead. After slipping off my shoes, I stood staring into the dark for a long moment as I gathered my nerves.

  Alright. Here goes nothing.

  As I ran my hand along the nearby wall, I found what I was hoping for, a small rune etched into the timber frame just beyond the foyer. When I pressed it, the lamps around the room flickered to life one by one, as they chased away the shadows from the corners of the room.

  The warm light revealed a wide, open chamber far larger than I had anticipated from the outside. Its high, vaulted ceiling was supported by a sturdy arch of dark timber that closely resembled the spine left behind in a turtles empty shell. An iron chandelier hung from its ceiling, and faint rune light shone from the points of it’s metal frame.

  My eyes were immediately drawn to the large fireplace made up of dark, heavy stone that dominated the right side of the living room. It was surrounded by what I assumed were couches and other furniture, but they were all currently underneath a sheet that had been draped over them to ward away any settling dust in my uncles absence. A thick carpet rested underneath it all, anchoring the comforts of the room in a muted, dark green hue.

  I pulled the sheets off the furniture one by one, wanting to see exactly what I was dealing with. Beneath the sheets, I found a cozy collection of soft leather chairs and couches. They looked strikingly similar to the Duke’s furnishings, and I had a strong suspicion they’d been made by the same talented carpenter.

  My attention then drifted towards the fireplace. I stepped closer, studying the flue and two sturdy levers that extended from its stonework. When I pulled the leftmost lever, a gentle suction swept upward through the chimney, as if the hearth itself was drawing in a quiet breath.

  I couldn’t help but wonder why he would bother using runes for ventilation… I mean, that is was what a chimney was for, right? It just seemed like a redundant implementation of runes.

  As I pulled the next lever, a faint rattle ran through the walls before settling into a quiet, steady hum. It was only then that I noticed the metal pipes branching out from the fireplace. I followed their path with my eyes until I spotted several outlets positioned around the room.

  I studied the pipes for several minutes, trying to puzzle out their purpose, and after a moment, the answer finally clicked. The vents were meant to carry heat from the fireplace and evenly distribute it throughout the room. This was a feature that would be worth its weight in gold once winter came.

  Satisfied with the discovery, I eased the levers back into place and moved on, eager to explore the rest of the house

  On the far side of the living room, opposite the front door, a broad wooden arch framed the entryway into the kitchen. Stepping through, I found myself in a space that would no doubt earn Granny Claybrook’s full approval.

  The kitchen was built with the same rustic elegance that defined the rest of the home. A broad stone oven dominated the far wall, while a small stovetop beside it promised a more refined means of cooking. Stone countertops stretched along the length of the room, their surfaces were smooth, and well worn beneath my fingers.

  As I ran my hand along the counter, I felt a gentle warmth spread beneath my fingertips. At first I thought I was imagining it, but closer inspection revealed faint runes cleverly embedded within several circular sections of the stone. Each one radiated a focused heat, that was neatly contained within its borders.

  I wasn’t sure what their purpose was at first, but when I noticed a tea kettle resting nearby, the answer quickly became clear. These runes would let you boil water without ever needing to light a fire.

  The sight of the tea pot made me think of my mother. Every morning she’d heat the kettle downstairs and sip her tea as the sun steadily made its way up over the fields. The whistle of that pot had been the bane of my mornings for years… yet now, alone in this kitchen, I found myself missing the sound.

  I pushed the thought aside, redirecting my focus on the room around me.

  The shelves above the counters were lined with neatly arranged cookware, pots, and utensils. I knew my way around a kitchen well enough, but some of the accessories here were completely foreign to me.

  Maybe it would be worth asking Ariel how to use some of them, surely she would have some idea.

  What drew my eye next was the sink. It was carved from dark, polished stone and fitted with a single brass handle. When I pulled it, clear water poured out in a steady, confident stream. Runes shimmered faintly beneath the basin, and with a simple twist of the handle, the water shifted from cool to pleasantly warm.

  I couldn’t help but smile. The kitchen so far had been simple yet ingenious, and there was still more to discover.

  Further investigation revealed a small pantry that was tucked away in the corner of the room. It’s thick wooden door bore a carved relief of curling vines that mirrored the yellow flowers climbing the house outside. When I opened it, I was once again struck by the sheer level of wealth poured into even its simple construction.

  Stone bins, sealed clay pots, and glass jars filled with various spices lined the shelves in careful order. I couldn’t read the runes etched into the walls, but I could make a few educated guesses about their function.

  From what I could tell, the pantry was insulated, perfectly dry, and designed to preserve supplies far longer than their ordinary shelf life. That theory was confirmed when I lifted the lid of a stone bin, and found it filled to the brim with rice that was still in relatively good condition.

  I couldn’t help but think of my dad. Something like this would’ve saved him a lifetime of complaints with our old granary back in Wheat Hollow. It had a bad habit of letting in moisture whenever the rains overstayed their welcome, and we’d end up frantically sorting through damp grain to save what we could before it spoiled.

  I sighed heavily at the thought as I stepped out of the kitchen.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Just keep yourself busy. Bottle it up, and keep moving.

  Across the main room, through another broad archway, the dining room sat directly opposite the great stone fireplace.

  A modest wooden table occupied the center of the room, and was surrounded by a handful of sturdy chairs that had clearly weathered years of steady use. One seat in particular caught my eye, as the tabletop beside it was marked with a cluster of shallow cuts, as if someone had spent countless hours idly stabbing at the wood with a knife.

  Recesses lined the outer wall where windows would normally sit. It made sense, as the room was tucked underneath the hill, but even so, I couldn’t help wishing a little more natural light managed to find its way inside.

  As I turned to leave, I noticed a small lever mounted on the wall near one end of the room. Naturally, my curiosity demanded that this lever must be pulled.

  The moment I did, a deep, resonant hum rolled through the walls. Hidden mechanisms stirred to life, and the sealed recesses began to shift. Panels slid away with smooth, deliberate motion, revealing wide glass windows that opened the dining room to a sweeping view of the flowered fields on the west side of the hill.

  Just how much of this house was mechanical? One moment it felt like a humble farmhouse, and the next I was standing in some eccentric wizard’s sanctum… except the wizard was my uncle, who apparently had a taste for the finer things in life.

  When I pulled the lever again, the windows sealed themselves shut, cutting off the picturesque view with quiet precision.

  Having seen everything the dining area had to offer, I returned to the living room, only to realize I had somehow missed both a door and a staircase in my earlier inspection.

  To the left of the fireplace, tucked into the corner that bordered the kitchen wall, a wooden sliding door blended so cleanly with the paneling that it was no wonder I had overlooked it. When I eased it open, a cool draft drifted up from the darkness below. Stone steps disappeared into the gloom, suggesting a basement hidden beneath the house.

  Beside it, a second staircase rose along the adjoining wall, slipping up behind the fireplace before curving out of sight.

  The corner felt like a crossroads: one way descending into the hill’s buried heart, the other rising toward open air and sunlight.

  I considered my options, and a moment later, I was making my way down the steps towards the basement. Soft lights flickered to life along the wall, casting a gentle golden glow that guided me into the chamber below.

  “Holy shi…” The words fell off my tongue, as I looked around the room in stunned silence.

  The downstairs level of my home was arranged much like the Claybrooks’ basement… only this one was far grander.

  At its center rested a wide, sunken pool bordered by broad stone edges. The basin sat empty for now, but judging by what I’d seen upstairs, I had no doubt water could be summoned at a moment’s notice.

  I crouched beside the pool, and traced my fingers over several faint markings that had been carved next to the faucet. The instant I brushed the correct symbol, water began to flow; first icy cold, then gradually warming as another rune flared to life.

  Just when I thought I’d seen it all, my gaze landed on something that nearly stopped my heart, something I’d only ever heard about in rumors.

  An indoor toilet.

  Of all the wonders I’d seen today, this was the one that truly broke me.

  I wouldn’t have to walk outside in the dark, fearing for my life every time nature called? How was I supposed to handle such luxury?

  A bathroom… in the safety of my own home…

  Blasphemy.

  Naturally, I’d make sure to mention this when I wrote my first letter home. I could already imagine Seth’s reaction when he read about it, and honestly, that alone made it worth writing.

  I smiled at the thought, but the warmth faded quickly as it tugged at emotions I’d been working hard to keep sealed away.

  Finding yet another distraction, I moved toward a cluster of metal pipes feeding into a slanted trough along the far wall. Above it, drying lines stretched beneath metal plates that radiated a steady, comforting warmth. Inside the trough, a series of beaters and rollers waited in perfect stillness, until my fingertips brushed their runes, causing them to hum softly to life.

  As with every marvel in this house, I had to pause and puzzle out what I was looking at. After a moment, it hit me. My luxury obsessed uncle had built a rune driven laundry system.

  Once again, I found myself at a loss for words. The more I saw, the clearer it became that my uncle hadn’t just built a home, he’d engineered a masterpiece.

  As I scanned the room in quiet appreciation, a faint door shaped outline in the wall caught my eye. It was nearly invisible, but the rising steam from the bath drifted toward it, tracing its edges in soft curls. Once I saw it, I couldn’t look away.

  I slid the nearby table aside and let my fingers drift over the stone. It felt cool and smooth beneath my touch, unremarkable at first, until a bit more pressure revealed a subtle shift beneath my palm.

  That slight give was all the invitation I needed. I leaned my weight into it, giving the hidden panel a firm push. A soft click echoed through the room, followed by the low, gritty rumble of stone sliding against stone as a section of the wall eased open.

  The door was low to the ground, forcing me to crouch as I stepped into the small vaulted chamber beyond. The walls were lined with carved recesses, each cradle holding a glowing core that pulsed with a faint, rhythmic light.

  Some of the cores burned bright and steady. Others flickered weakly, their glow stuttering like dying embers. Thin metal conduits trailed from each recess into the surrounding stone, carrying the cores’ power into the runes woven throughout the house.

  And that’s when the realization hit me. Every lamp. Every heated pipe. Every humming mechanism that I’d marveled at today… all of it ran on these cores.

  Each one would burn out eventually, and when they did, I would need to replace them. I seriously doubted that cores were cheap, or even easy to come by, especially for someone like me who had just recently taken his first steps onto the path.

  Strangely enough, it was comforting to realize that even runes and cores came with a price. Balance still existed, even here, tucked within the comforts of my new home. Sooner or later, I’d have to figure out which cores powered which systems and learn how to manage them myself.

  Hell, at this rate, it might even be worth sitting down and actually studying how runes work…

  Well… probably not.

  When I was a boy, an artisan had visited the family farm to do some work that had been commissioned by my father. He had taken the time to indulge my curious mind as I bothered him with questions, and he had explained that runes were a complex magical language that used symbols to convert, and reshape different forms of energy. Naturally, I’d stopped listening halfway through his explanation, because at the time, I was more focused on finishing my work quickly so I could spend more time with Grace.

  Grace… I wonder how she is doing…

  Absentmindedly, I reached out and rested my hand on one of the fading cores. Its orange light pulsed weakly beneath my fingers, flickering with warmth like the last breath of a candle. Beneath its glassy shell, I could feel it, a faint pull of potential still swirling within. It was nothing compared to Yahm’s stone, but even so, the lingering energy made my skin prickle with its power.

  That was when an idea struck me.

  Tentatively, I activated my ability Sow, and focused on the spiritual potential within me, willing it to amplify the remnants of potential within the core.

  The reaction was instant.

  The dim glow within the core surged, swelling outward as though it were taking a long, desperate breath. As I fanned the flames of its potential, heat poured out of the core, and pressure built rapidly as I held on to it’s smooth surface.

  Instinctively, I knew that if I kept feeding the core, it would soon explode in a fiery ball of death. Personally, I had no desire to experience that first hand, so I cut off the stream of potential, and let the core gradually return to it’s original state.

  Skill Unlocked: Amplify Core (Rank 1 : Level 1) - Amplify the potential within a core, increasing its overall affinity based output. The effect is temporary and ceases when amplification ends. Excessive amplification may destabilize weaker cores. Efficiency improves with SPIRIT and skill mastery.

  As I placed the core back onto its pedestal, I couldn’t ignore the thin hairline crack running along its surface. Thankfully, despite it’s new flaw, it settled into place, and resumed whatever function it had been performing before my interference.

  “Well… that was almost a disaster.”

  I’d come a lot closer to killing myself just then than I was comfortable admitting.

  With a long breath, I stepped back from the pedestal, giving the crack one last guilty glance.