Secrets Nearly Unburied

After the excitement of the day's quest, the group parted ways in the afternoon, agreeing to meet up tomorrow to attempt another task together. Mira mentioned needing to study a spell tome, Tomas had errands, and Beren had to report back to his family. Leila waved goodbye cheerfully, teasing Arlan, "Take good care of that little critter of yours!"

Alone again, Arlan made his way out of the guildhall with Bones nestled in his cloak. He felt the ache of exhaustion creeping up; using magic and physical exertion combined had tired him more than he expected. His mind was buzzing though – with relief, joy, and a lingering worry. He had used necromancy actively in front of others. It was a small thing, a rat in the chaos, but still. One slip, if someone had noticed a lack of flesh or a missing bone, and everything could have come crashing down.

The sun was lowering in the sky by now, orange light painting the town. Arlan stopped by a quiet corner of the marketplace and let Bones out onto a low wall. "How are you holding up?" he asked softly, examining his undead companion. The missing toe made Bones a tad unbalanced; the little skeleton compensated by adjusting its gait. It looked up at Arlan with that ever-curious tilt of the head.

"I'm sorry you got hurt," Arlan said, gently scratching the rat's skull where an ear would have been. He took out the bone shard he collected. It wasn't exactly a toe bone – more like a piece of a rat's rib. "I wonder… can I fix you with this?" He concentrated, willing his mana to adhere the bone fragment to Bones. This was experimental – he hadn't read about necromancy, he was flying by gut feeling. The fragment twitched in his hand and then attached itself to Bones' foot, forming a crude replacement toe. The rat wiggled it and stood a bit steadier. Arlan grinned, impressed with himself. "Good as new, kinda. You might have an extra joint there but who's counting."

Bones responded by scampering in a quick circle, then climbing back up Arlan's arm to perch on his shoulder. It seemed pleased. Arlan couldn't help but laugh quietly. "Alright, alright. Let's find something to eat."

With the coin from the quest, Arlan had more money than he'd had in months. Not a fortune by any means – after paying his fee, he had about 5 copper left, plus a couple earned earlier. That was enough for a decent meal and maybe a night indoors at a cheap inn. He decided to splurge on a proper dinner first.

He went to a food stall he knew, run by a one-eyed old man named Kipp. Kipp didn't ask questions if you had coin. Arlan bought a bowl of hearty porridge with chunks of vegetables and a bit of meat in it, and a heel of bread. He ate greedily in the alley behind the stall, sharing the moment with Bones by occasionally letting the rat lick the bowl. Bones didn't need food, but it seemed curious about tastes – it clattered its jaw in what might be enjoyment or simply reflex at the lingering flavor of stew.

As twilight settled, Arlan made his way to a run-down inn on the south side of town – The Weary Traveler. He had sometimes slept in their stables when he couldn't find anywhere else, but tonight he approached the innkeeper boldly and slapped two coppers on the counter. "One bed in the common loft," he requested. The innkeeper, surprised but not about to turn down coin from a ragged boy, nodded and gave him a key to a partitioned bunk in the attic space where the cheapest beds were.

The bed was just straw with a sheet, but to Arlan it felt like luxury after countless nights on cold ground. He closed the little door of the partition to get some privacy and let Bones out. "We have to be quiet and careful," he warned his friend. "No running off. Just... try to act like a normal rat if anyone sees, okay?"

Bones busied itself by sniffing (or rather, miming the act of sniffing since it had no nose) around the small space. Arlan realized it might attract attention if found—some people would kill any rat on sight. So before sleeping, he gently picked Bones up. The rat tilted its head as he spoke softly, "I'm going to let you rest now. I think if I…um…release the spell, you'll become just bones again. But I promise I'll bring you back, okay?"

It felt strange talking to it this way—like tucking a child into bed. But Bones was important to him. He steeled himself and focused on withdrawing the necromantic energy. "Rest now," he whispered. The green light in Bones' eyes faded. The tiny skeleton instantly went limp and lifeless in his hands, just a heap of bones once more. The sudden emptiness in Arlan's mind felt lonely, but also a relief—maintaining even that simple undead took a constant trickle of effort.

He carefully wrapped the bones in a spare cloth and placed them at the bottom of his cloak's inner pocket. To any casual observer, it was just a bundle of odds and ends. Satisfied that Bones was safe and hidden, Arlan finally laid down. As he drifted off on the lumpy straw mattress, his thoughts swirled with the events of the day. He had leveled up, perhaps? He wasn't sure how to tell, but he definitely felt a bit more confident with his magic. He'd made friends, in a way, and earned coin honorably. Yet he also gained a glimpse of how precarious his secret was. Still, he had survived one day without being found out. Small victories.

In the darkness of his little rented space, Arlan closed his eyes with a whispered promise, "Tomorrow, we'll do even better." Sleep took him swiftly, and for once, his dreams were not of hunger or fear, but of possibilities—albeit with a darkly humorous twist as he dreamed of an army of skeletal rats juggling pieces of cheese for a cheering crowd.