“I just think everyone needs their own private space.”

Dick Van Dyke

The Thorpe was laid out much like described—a giant pit carved into the ice like some circular strip mine. Gigantic steps lead ever downward, with homes carved into the outer ice wall on each layer. An enormous monstrosity of stone and steel was suspended in the centre of the clearing where no beast could easily reach it. The only item Bjorn had failed to mention in his description were the colossal pure white Gyrfalcons roosting on top of it. The massive birds of prey were as large as me, if not even as large as Namir himself. Bjorn had already unstrapped me, and I stopped on the edge, staring across the carved city, taking it all in. It seemed city-sized for me, but if the residents were giants, I guessed it might be closer to a town for them.

“We need to report, but we can get you settled into the visitor’s rooms before we go.” Bjorn interrupted my gaze. “In fact, Erik can do that. Here you go.” He handed over the remains of our sledge and rations, all bundled up to Erik, then turned and headed to the northern side of the Thorpe.

Burdened with our belongings filling both arms, Erik led us to the southern side of the Thorpe. “This way, Namir and Kai.” He said. “Guests usually arrive from the south, and we don’t expect them to camp above the escarpment.”

There was no path to the south, but any road would have been covered in ice soon enough. There were, however, a series of storage rooms and visitors rooms available on the southern side of the Thorpe for any merchant brave enough to have ventured this far north. “We don’t get a lot of visitors, but if they do ever arrive, we try to make sure they survive and with a positive enough impression to return.” He showed us the giant rooms available with the smaller sections portioned off for smaller visitors than giants.

“They are perfect, thank you,” Namir said as Erik deposited our belongings in the middle of the larger room's floor.

“If you need anything, just ask for me. But I’m sure that you would like some time to unwind. I know I do.” Erik pointed out the living area, bedrooms and, most importantly, washrooms before departing. We said farewell and let him leave before planning our next moves.

“I’ll scout out the Thorpe. We are hardly wealthy, but with your skills, I’m sure there will be a space in the market. If not, I will join the hunters in patrolling the Thorpe to build supplies for our journey south. What will you be up to?” Namir stated.

“After a quick wash, now that I have a little privacy, I was going to work on my spatial vault then depending on what you discover, I have a couple of options”, I replied as I considered the mess of a bundle that represented our worldly belongings and future plans.

Namir headed out, and I stepped into the smaller room before raising my right arm and opening a doorway for myself. Passing through it, I was now sealed in my secret vault. Realising I had forgotten something, I stepped back out to work on hauling the remains of our sledge inside, then stopped.

It would not be enough, and where would I say the wood had disappeared off to? I might as well start from scratch again with the wood. What I could do was create a stone laminate first. I re-entered my spatial vault, keeping one foot in and one foot out. I used Shape Stone to syphon some stone from our dwelling, making the room a sliver deeper to coat the floor of my spatial vault with stone.

Ding! Spatial Vault (Lv3 ->4)

The next step was to create the wooden shelf walls to allow me what would effectively be an inventory of goods at my fingertips. This meant I had to grow four more trees, which meant more mana-infused solar for them to use as nutrients. Each seed was planted in a different corner of what I discovered was now a 14-foot by 14-foot room. It had been growing when I was not watching. I was gaining a foot of space with each level up of the skill. It was also now 14 feet high, which was a little excessive in size for me but would still not allow a giant enough headroom to stand, seeing as they towered over everyone, standing between 16 to 18 feet tall. They were behemoths and represented what the strength stat could do when in alignment with the vessel. Which came first, the stat, trait or species? Who could say?

Elvish Spellsong helped the four trees to grow rapidly, and unlike when singing the sledge into shape, I allowed them to keep their leaves on their upper branches, forming a mini canopy across the roof of the vault that would not prevent anyone from falling in should I open a portal entrance to the vault beneath them. I then grew three walls of shelves along the sides and backs until I had enough space to place all the goods we had collected so far. Not forgetting to create berths to sleep in as well. I would leave open the front of the room for now. In time, I would include all the resources we had accumulated and the remains of the sledge, and should we ever be asked where they disappeared, I hoped to allude to the fact that someone had sold us a spatial vault for our travels back to the compass kingdoms. But that would take time to be plausible. For now, this was best.

The front wall as the main entrance I left completely free from branches or shelves as I would need the full open entrance if some of my plans came to fruition. The sledge had worked well enough, but I knew that I could do better than that with a little time and safety to plan it out properly. Finally happy with all that I had achieved in my spatial vault I carved the runes for light and left Nyx to enjoy the private space alone before sealing it up. It was nap time. If anyone asked, Nyx would be out exploring. But I did not plan to let her do that alone, what with those gigantic birds of prey hovering around.

Ding! Spatial Vault (Lv4 ->5)

Seeing the increase in level I realised I would have to move three of those corner posts, but that shouldn’t be too difficult, seeing as the wood was still living, supported by the light-giving runes and nurtured by another batch of mana-infused solar. I practiced peeking into the space and being able to pull out items at will, making them appear as if by magic in my hands. Not happy with pulling a rabbit out of a hat, I could now pull a dragon out of mine. However, she bristled in indignation at leaving the warmer world of my spatial vault, only settling down once partly wrapped around my neck and wrapped up in my arms. She was easily appeased with warmth and mana, both of which she could get more of the closer and tighter she was wrapped around me.

Looking outside, I could see I had spent the rest of the day working away. I wondered who would return first: Namir, Bjorn or Erik. Either way, I wanted to start my next project with Namir ready to watch over me. I had been able to complete the remodelling of my spatial vault without risking discovery. My senses were enough to warn me of anyone visiting. The privacy of the washroom was an extra layer of defence above the hidden cultural rules of our guest quarters. But what I planned to do next would be riskier, riskier but necessary, and I wanted a witness or at least a defender.

. . .

In the end, it was Namir who made it back first. He opened with, “Friendly place for such an inhospitable location, much like your own home.”

“My own home was anywhere near as lethal as this place,” I argued.

“Maybe, maybe not, but they are both on the edge of the known world. The horizon of the compass kingdoms. Anyway, quite a friendly place, really.”

“The Thorpe?” I asked, struggling to see the similarities with my own home.

“The people. They are very open about what they have to offer and what they want, but then we are only two and incredibly isolated. They have nothing to fear from us.” He shrugged. Was this how he felt about Wester Ponente? Isolated?

“What did you find out?” I asked, moving past my concerns about his feelings.

“The Shard of the Lodestar lures most of the protein for them to harvest. Saves them trawling the tundra for food. A thought for when we return to Wester Ponente.” He considered.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“The beasts come up on their own. We don’t need to encourage them to do it any faster.” I answered, unconvinced.

“Anyway, for variety, they grow various plants on the remains of what they cannot harvest. Once a year, they also have a drive culling where they stock up on seafood.” He continued relaying what he had learned.

“What is a drive culling?” I asked, already suspecting the answer. Considering the history of my former and current world.

“They have stone ships that frighten and drive the fish ashore where they catch and kill them.” He replied, adding, “The next one will be soon. It’s a popular method for raising their children’s levels. It's a little less dangerous than the regular patrols. Erik will have completed one before being allowed to travel with his father. Again, this is something to consider for your cousins and yourself when we return. There is plenty of ocean and coastline to drive them onto.”

“Again, I would worry that we would bite off something bigger than we could chew. Food and levelling. Anything else?” It was all very well building plans for our return but we had to get there first.

“Stone magic. The Veivisiers are stone wizards capable of powerful defensive magic. There are a couple here. With their leader leading the Thorpe. They carry stone staffs and carve glyphs into the stone walls and monoliths. They are also the ones capable of turning the beast cores into practical products capable of replicating the skills. It is said they guard the Endless Ice, preventing the Ice Giants from moving further south and bringing the ice with them, or so they say. But that might just be propaganda. Either way, they are also responsible for the Gyrfalcons you saw resting on the shard of the Lodestar defences.”

“How do they do that exactly?” I questioned.

“Which? Guard the endless ice or create giant Gyrfalcons?”

“Both.”

“Regarding the Gyrfalcons, I’m not sure but as to guarding the endless ice, according to what I could gather, the border of the endless ice is actually a line of Monoliths above the snow melt trench built and maintained by the Giants. The endless ice still moves south but melts when it hits the monolithic line. The snowmelt runoff travels along the Tramontana ice defence duct to the western and eastern oceans. If we had a boat, it would be a quick way back to the ocean.” He added, bemoaning the loss of our ship.

“Beasts, hunting, farming, stone wizardry and glyphs. That aside, how can we raise funds for our journey home?” This was all fascinating, but we needed to put a plan together to get going home.

“Honestly, hunting on their patrols or doing our own is probably the most efficient way to raise capital. Your sensory skills would give us an edge in locating them, and it sounds like they try to keep the local area free of them despite their propensity to surge ever inward to the centre of the Thorpe. Plus, with your spatial vault, we can bring the entire carcasses back or at least store them for me to dissemble here while you work on something else.”

“Anything else?” I asked hopeful to spend some time stationary rather than running around in expanding circles around the Thorpe.

“Actually, there are one or two other areas of yours capable of raising funds: first your healing. They don’t have a Church of the Lodestar, and as far as I can tell, while the stone glyphs are powerful, they are not aimed primarily at healing. Most of them look healthy enough, but if you let it know that you were an acolyte of the Church of Lodestar in training and could heal, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a long line of them hoping to cure the small ailments we all accumulate. It would be difficult to know what each would be worth charging for, but sometimes there is no price on good health.”

I nodded in agreement. The first act of the Bishop on his arrival had been to heal those in need. It had probably helped to increase donations to the church, but I was not trying to build one, so I could hopefully receive the funds a little bit more directly.

“Second, your magic, what exactly they might need for their homes, jobs or simply to accessorise will be up to you to work out but you seem to have found plenty of markets to work your way into or open up in Wester Ponente. I have no doubt that you will be able to do the same here, given some time.”

“Just as long as it doesn’t take too long. Do you know if they have any convoys heading south or if they are expecting any merchants anytime soon?”

“Definitely not any before the drive culling seemed to be the general opinion.” He let me know what he had learned, but then it was my turn, “How did the rest of your day go? Was it productive?”

“Would you care to take a look?” I said, opening up my own spatial vault.

Namir looked in. “I’m impressed. Our own home away from home.” He said, noting the sleeping berths I had built into the back wall. “Is it a little bigger than it was last time or is that just the walls helping to define it?”

“No, it’s a little larger than last time, 15 feet by 15 feet now. It was 14 feet by 14 feet when I started. Still it is not yet anywhere near as large as Bjorn’s, but not bad for my first week of effort.” I grinned a little smugly.

He snorted, “Certainly enough to carry what we need to survive if we have to travel south alone.”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas about how to do that.” I grinned.

“I’m sure you do, but first, we must fill it. Starting tomorrow, that is I hear Erik approaching.” Reminding me that we both had superior senses.

Erik soon arrived and knocked on our door to invite us out for dinner.

. . .

Meanwhile, elsewhere within the Thorpe, Bjorn returned to report back on his team’s patrol. If Namir and Kai had been present, they would have been impressed to see a giant even larger than Bjorn sitting on a throne of stone. A stone staff leaned alongside the throne covered in glyphs and radiating power. A single Gyrfalcon had been roosting on the other side but was now devouring the bribe of spiderlings Bjorn had offered on his arrival.

The gesture would earn no leniency or favours, but all knew the Thorpe’s Vievisier doted in on him more than he would have his own son if he’d had one. The beast was a white morph with black markings and the progenitor of the tower of gyrfalcons that stood guard over the shard of the lodestar. He’d swallowed more resources than most hunters, but the White Morph line of Giant Gyrfalcons was worth their weight in gold for each one that bred true. Stamfar, the Vievisier’s personal Gyrfalcon, perched happily alongside the throne, crunching his way through the large sack of spiderlings they had recovered. Everything was devoured.

“Völur, the western patrol returns. The ice is endless but free from incursion. The weather was less than pleasant.” Bjorn inclined his head to his chief. “Det finnes ikke dårlig vær, bare dårlige klær. Report on the rest of your trip.” He gestured for Bjorn to continue.

“We cleared six different clews of Ice Wyrms. Two packs of Ice Wolves have perished along our route as well as one Ice Bear. On our return, we also cleared a nest of Artic Wolf Spiderlings that was well within reach of the Thorpe. A few packs and beasts have shifted their territories where the travellers first arrived.” Bjorn reported.

“I saw their arrival. Their story?” Völur commented.

“A rescue of his grandson fleeing pursuit from Maestro, they risked the open ocean and fell foul of the sea of storms being driven north.” Bjorn tried to summarise what he had been told in a single sentence.

“A pure beastkin that far north from Ostro, he a catkin, took to the water to flee?” Völur raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“We tracked their path back to where they first arrived. Nothing remained of a ship that we could see, and to survive climbing the cliffs after being driven into them was impressive enough of a feat to start off with. But then they survived with nothing for at least a week before we found them.” Everything that he had found supported what he had been told.

“So a beastkin and his grandson?” he attempted to confirm.

“Yes, a beastkin and his half-blood grandson,” He went into greater detail before expounding further, “Although what bloods I could not say for sure. He has beastkin senses beyond any I’ve ever encountered. The child identified the nest of Arctic Wolf Spiderlings Stamfar is currently feasting on. He did it from ten paces north, and the nest itself was at least two paces deep in the ice. We would have never discovered it until it cracked open under their size or skills.”

“Why not for sure then, after witnessing his superior senses.” He asked, confused.

“Two reasons; first, his grandfather overlooked the spiderlings when he did not. Second, his magic at his age is beyond belief.” Bjorn recalled the sudden flames. “On two separate occasions, we watched him kill and cook Wyrms and Spyders with roaring flames cast without glyphs but words alone. He has some proficiency in human spellcraft and is the reason why Stamfar is feasting so well today. We would have had to crush the pests to eradicate them. He boiled them alive.” He tried to convey the sheer power packed into the tiny pint-sized human.

“How old is he?” Völur asked, suddenly interested either in his magic or his age.

“He never said, but at that size, for him to be anything other than a child, he would have to be part elf and beastkin, but looking at his face, he is also human. So part human, elf, beastkin at the minimum.” He explained some of the thoughts that had been running through his head as he observed his travelling companions.

“At the minimum? As if that isn’t enough already. Not all are so enamoured of different species, Bjorn.” Völur gave a subtle warning to his subordinate.

Ignoring the subtle barb, Bjorn continued, “Despite his size and whatever his age may be, he kept up for far longer than should have been feasible. I carried him when and where possible, but his grandfather insisted he run at the beginning of each day despite him having to take ten steps to each of ours. Erik would have struggled to do something similar were he an equal size, yet he has both a giant’s strength and a Dverg’s stamina. Furthermore, he was even able to heal Erik. It was not spellcraft or a glyph but some form of healing skill, which, if he’s human, implies some form of training from the Church of the Lodestar. I can see why the beastkin felt it necessary to flee to the sea. If he were my son, bastard or not, half-blood or not, I would want to keep control of him. He has a lot of potential.”

“An intriguing individual, superior senses, offensive magic, lasting stamina, and a form of healing. I will have to inspect him in person then.”