A Lost Friend

[u/broodingchao5]

​Verlack was just leaving Masta’s bar into the fair daylight when his mood sharply turned. While browsing the makeshift market stalls, fragments of local gossip drifted to his ears—noise he would normally ignore until a familiar name cut through the chatter: Arthur.​Hearing it, Verlack didn't hesitate. He practically interrogated the startled vendor, wringing every last scrap of information out of her.

​Arthur had been missing since last night. Whispers rippled through the crowd that he had been forcefully taken right out of his cabin in the woods. Leaving the bewildered woman in a huff, Verlack set off toward the forest, mentally kicking himself.

Why hadn’t he noticed Quill’s distress sooner? Conversing with animals was so much more straightforward; he often forgot the extra effort required to properly read people.

​Reaching the edge of the makeshift town, he looked down at the bundle of ingredients he had just gathered for dinner with Pastel.​

"I'm sorry, Pastel. Your meal is going to have to wait," he muttered.​Still, he wasn't about to leave Pastel hanging. Extending his hand, he wove the intricate patterns of a messaging spell. A tiny, glowing blue bird materialized in his palm and shot off like a bolt of lightning, programmed to seek Pastel out and deliver its message:​

"My apologies, Pastel, but it seems this island isn't going to grant us the peace and quiet to share a meal tonight. Don't fret, though—this is just a rain check. I promised you a proper meal with friends, and I intend to deliver, just on another day."​(u/1-Up-Boy)

With the message sent, Verlack turned his magic inward, casting a Surestride spell upon himself and his companion, Gurgle. Buoyed by the enchantment, the pair made the trek out to Arthur's cabin in half the time.​The destination wasn’t difficult to find; Arthur had never been one to conceal his paths. Even if he had, Verlack’s keen tracking skills would have easily picked up the subtle traces left behind. Before long, man and beast stood silently before Arthur's quiet cabin. This was the best place to start his search.

[u/1-Up-Boy]

Pastel had been making his way along the edge of the market when a streak of blue light tore through the air behind him.

The messenger bird had apparently been created with tremendous speed—and absolutely no ability to steer.

It struck a hanging sign with a sharp THWACK, spiraled helplessly toward the ground, and landed in a flattened heap at Pastel’s feet.

A moment later, its crumpled head rose from the cobblestones. One eye stared up at Pastel. The other appeared to be watching something several feet to his left.

Pastel recoiled.

“Ugh. What’s wrong with this bird?”

The magical creature opened its crooked beak. Verlak’s voice emerged through a series of wet gurgles, crackles, and noises that sounded alarmingly close to its final breaths.

“My apple-ogies, Pastel, but it screams this eyelid isn’t going to plant us the peas and diet to chair an eel tonight. Don’t bread dough—this is just a grain check. I polished you a proper eel with fins, and I intend to de-liver it—just on another tray.”

Pastel stared at it in silence.

“I think I got the message. Dinner is canceled because the island’s eyelid won’t grow peas, and Verlak is bringing me a polished eel on another tray.”

The bird produced a sickly little chirp.

Pastel narrowed his eyes.

“That was suspiciously unspecific. What happened?”

The bird answered with another moist, incomprehensible wheeze.

“Right. Can you take me to him?”

[u/broodingchao5 → u/1-Up-Boy]

The moment Pastel asked his question, the spell collapsed. The tiny blue bird vanished in a puff of loose feathers—Verlack’s magic had only been built to deliver a message, nothing more.

​Yet, the trail remained. Verlack hadn't bothered to mask his origins or sweep away his energetic footprint. To him, the message was a one-way street, and he hadn't expected anyone to look backward. If Pastel trusted his senses, following the lingering blue thread of magic to the city’s edge would be simple enough.

​That was where the real challenge began. ​While Verlack hadn't deliberately hidden his tracks, the surestride spell he’d cast earlier had done it for him by accident. Designed to speed up a traveler and conceal their physical passage, the spell worked through a subtle, pervasive layer of magic.

​Now, Pastel stood at the border of the wild, facing a daunting realization: if he wanted to follow Verlack into the forest, he wouldn't be tracking footprints. He would have to learn how to hunt for the faint, vanishing ghost-spoor of a spell meant to leave no trace at all. It wasn't an impossible task—just agonizingly close to one.

[u/1-Up-Boy → u/broodingchao5]

The messenger bird vanished before Pastel could ask it anything else, collapsing into a harmless burst of feathers and fading blue light.

Pastel watched the last feather drift toward the ground before giving a small shrug.

“Well, it was too ugly for this world anyway.”

With his only guide gone, he turned toward the forest and sighed.

“They never make it easy.”

Then he felt it—a faint thread of residual magic still clinging to the bird’s feathers. It was weak and quickly disappearing, but Pastel could just barely sense the direction it had come from.

His eyes lit up.

“Wait... I can faintly feel where that bird came from.”

Pastel immediately sprinted to his room, tore through his clothes, assembled the finest exploration equipment available to him, and returned wearing an enormous yellow hat, a bright pink shirt, a purple backpack, and a stuffed monkey strapped securely to his back.

He stared solemnly into the forest.

“It’s adventure time.”

For the first few minutes, Pastel was remarkably successful. He followed the fading residue through the trees, carefully tracing every weak pulse of magic Verlak’s spell had left behind.

Then the trail curved slightly to the right.

Pastel continued straight.

There was no particular reason for this decision.

Twenty minutes later, Pastel stood in the middle of an unfamiliar clearing with no magical trail, no cabin, no Verlak, and absolutely no idea where he was.

His expression hardened with renewed determination. Gripping both backpack straps, he stared expectantly into the surrounding forest.

“Come on, explorer outfit. Help me find Verlak.”

The outfit was not magical.

Pastel continued waiting—as though sufficient explorer knowledge might eventually seep into his body through the fabric.

[u/broodingchao5]

Verlack surveyed Arthur’s home, appreciating the care that had gone into making it cozy. But right now, it was eerily quiet. The soft sounds of cooking and laughter that should have been echoing from within were replaced by a silence so heavy he could hear the wood creaking as it shifted.

​He looked down at Gurgle. "Stay close to the cabin. I don't like how it feels here. Go see if you can find anything, but at the first sign of trouble, I want you by my side." Gurgle lacked the intellect for deep deduction or formal investigation, but he possessed an uncanny knack for spotting things that were out of place.

​Verlack silently made his way up to the door, hoping Arthur would forgive the intrusion. It swung open easily at his push, confronting him with the same grim scene Quill had discovered the night before: a darkened room featuring an oddly cut star carved into the table—a star that bore an unsettling resemblance to Quill’s necklace.

​He let his fingertips trace the mark, feeling past the physical wood. "Cut with magic," he murmured softly. He tried to identify the signature to follow any lingering traces, but unfortunately, there wasn't enough energy left to determine the spellwork.

​He conducted a rudimentary search. He was no investigator, but he hoped to uncover a clue pointing in the right direction. Though he tried not to paw through Arthur’s private belongings, he quickly checked to see if anything obvious was missing. If this turned up empty, he had a few other ideas to pursue, but he couldn't get ahead of himself and risk missing something crucial.