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Emerald Breeze
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I sigh as a I grab some fabric shreds from Thorn’s robe (torn to smithereens from our earlier hasty escape) and start wrapping it around the amulet. “Well, we can’t really go back to the shopkeep and ask how she got it, unless we want to get murdered.” Thorn mills around behind me as I fold linen over the swirling colors of the pendant’s gem. “I know you mentioned wanting to head to the capital next, but is there any place closer where we might be able to learn something about this, or at least get rid of it safely?”
I can’t help but think about what he said about druid magic, how it serves to bolster nature, not harm it. Could this be for taking that power, made by someone who doesn’t care about who or what gets hurt? If so, I can’t let it get into the wrong hands--I don’t have much, but I have these forests. I can at least stand for that.
It’s quiet while Thorn wracks his brain for our possible options. “There’s Winterhelm to the north, about a ten days’ journey from here. They’re remote, but their guild is rivaled only by the capital themselves. My teacher always said that every magical breakthrough, one way or another, could be linked back to the wizards in Winterhelm.” He starts nervously picking at the freshly sewn hems in his robe as he continues. “Falcrest is on the way to the capital, about halfway there--an eight days’ journey east, give or take. Their guild isn’t as prestigious, but it is a larger city. And of course, there’s always the capital itself.”
Now entirely wrapped in cloth, I grip the amulet solidly in my fist, and can’t seem to shake the unease from my stomach. More people means more chance of finding someone who might know what this is...but it also means a higher risk of running into its progenitor, or at least someone who would misuse it. Winterhelm might have experts, but it’s a detour that would add at least three weeks to our journey to the capital.
Thorn looks up at me. “It’s up to you what we should do though. You’re the pathfinder, after all.” He smiles warmly.
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