The Wandering Shaman's Repayment
Wendigo carefully examined the mysticism contained within Isaac. Even a wandering shaman was still a shaman. To roam this harsh world alone, one needed at least an ace up their sleeve...
'This guy's got absolutely nothing.'
It was a rude assessment that would have made Isaac tremble in rage if he'd heard it, but Wendigo harbored no malice. What could he do? The man truly had nothing.
'That stinging sensation from the dagger feels like poison, and the familiar vibe from the cloak suggests some beast-related spell.'
Not a true spirit by origin, but Wendigo had been masquerading as one long enough. He couldn't discern the exact spells on objects anymore, but he could gauge the quantity and type of mysticism they held. And the items Isaac carried weren't impressive by any stretch—even being generous.
'...Skadi wasn't lying, that's for sure.'
It would have been better if she'd lied and said not to expect much. Wendigo stared at Isaac with a pang of regret, even knowing nothing more would come of it.
"Wandering shaman. If you're not going to use that dagger, put it away."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Suddenly reduced to a clueless, talentless shaman hack, Isaac hurriedly sheathed his dagger. He'd realized the being before him was a spirit—or something equivalent.
'Damn it, why the hell is a spirit manifesting in the flesh and lounging on a jade throne? Doesn't it care about wasting mysticism?'
Truth be told, from Isaac's perspective as a wandering shaman, this was an unfair situation. Spirits weren't something you could just summon at will. Common knowledge among shamans held that most spirits didn't reveal themselves unless they had reason to intervene in the physical world. For spirits, whose mysticism constantly drained in manifested form, there was no reason to maintain a body idly.
So why was this spirit keeping its body—and casually sitting on a throne, no less...?
'It can't be overflowing with mysticism... And its appearance doesn't match any spirits I know.'
Isaac swallowed his rising questions and bowed deeply to Wendigo with utmost courtesy. Curiosity aside, survival came first.
"This humble shaman, Isaac son of Molik, greets the great spirit. It is an honor to behold your visage, one I shall pass down through generations..."
"You've got a silver tongue, but unfortunately, I don't care for flattery. Shall we cut to the chase? Any objections?"
"?!"
Isaac panicked as Wendigo cut him off. The flattery he'd paid good silver to learn from a shaman who'd survived a spirit encounter wasn't working. Maybe it wanted praise for its humility? But Wendigo seemed utterly disinterested. What kind of spirit was this...?
"Of course. If that's what you wish, spirit. But... what do you mean by 'the main point'?"
Isaac lifted only his head from his bow to ask, never relaxing his tension. If the spirit showed any sign of malice, he'd activate the spell on his cloak, 'Deer Evasion Cloak,' and bolt. The deer it'd been made from wasn't exceptional, but its escape artistry was top-notch. That cloak had saved his skin from danger countless times—it would again!
...Naturally, Isaac's thoughts were crystal clear to Wendigo. He didn't even need to read emotions; the man's rigid face and twitchy readiness to flee screamed it.
'Not much courage either. Skadi boldly asked for help at our first meeting, but...'
Wendigo briefly reminisced about Skadi's debut. Even while fleeing, she'd seized the chance and asked for aid with gutsy resolve... Her face had been pale, body shaking, but that was just poor cold control back then—leaking frost everywhere. Not fear, right?
'Mention OneTon, and he'll bolt in terror.'
He didn't mind if the guy left, but something useful would be nice. After a moment's thought, Wendigo signaled Skadi's ice necklace. She'd been on standby at the temple just in case—she'd arrive soon...
BAM!
"Lord Wendigo! Did you call for me?"
"Grrr!"
'Was she waiting right outside?'
Skadi and OneTon burst through the door opposite where Isaac had entered, amid a thunderous crash. The noise was clearly OneTon headbutting it open—no other explanation for the splintering wood.
'Gotta tell Geron to replace the door later. And discipline that mutt—no, OneTon.'
As Wendigo stared at OneTon in disbelief, Isaac gawked rudely at the beast in shock.
'What the hell is that thing...? It looks like the wolf I was hunting.'
No matter how bulked up and imposing it had become, the base form was the same—natural for Isaac to recognize. The problem? The wolf he'd hunted was here, brimming with mysticism several times stronger than before.
Isaac prayed it wasn't the same wolf, but their eyes met, and his breath caught. OneTon's golden eyes pierced right through him.
Instinct screamed: this was his quarry.
'Screwed! I thought it was just a wolf—turns out it's a spirit's favorite pet!'
Spirits were arrogant and capricious, rarely bestowing favor. But exceptions existed. Many spirits birthed in beast form, leading some to dote on animals. They'd occasionally bless a favored beast with mysticism...
Isaac had never dreamed his target was one. If he'd known, he wouldn't have bothered eyeing it—lest the spirit descend with vicious retribution for any scratch!
'Gotta run now!'
Forget apprenticeship—Isaac awakened the cloak's spell. His body snapped backward in perfect wandering-shaman reflexes...
"Daring to use a spell without permission in Lord Wendigo's presence."
But Skadi outclassed him. Glaring icily, she toyed with her ring. The spell within—branch with budding sprouts—devoured the mysticism she'd infused and unleashed its power.
A fresh, verdant scent bloomed with turquoise waves from the ring. Too fast for Isaac to escape on cloak alone.
As the waves swept past, Isaac felt his body grow heavy. The cloak's spell sealed, unresponsive to his will.
Collapsed on the floor, he looked up at Skadi in horror, eyes straining.
That wolf-riding figure hadn't seemed ordinary, but a shaman? No way!
'That spell requires spirit aid. So this young woman's contracted to it—a shaman bound to this spirit!'
Isaac shuddered at Skadi's spell, leagues beyond his crude workings.
"I thought it was plant mysticism, but there's cold essence too. You wove the two into one?"
"Yes! Centered on cold and the binding concept of roots. First real test... but with your mysticism, Lord Wendigo, it worked great for a prototype."
"Th-that was just a prototype...? Gack?!"
Skadi patted OneTon's neck; it shifted from cute pet to savage predator in an instant. Pouncing on Isaac's back, it dripped killing intent, baring fangs.
"Grrrrr!"
Isaac couldn't resist the paw crushing him—claws at his throat too.
Skadi glared coldly. "What to do with this rude fool? If you wish, Lord Wendigo, I can wring out his spells and info, then sever this wretched neck..."
"Hold on. Minor misunderstanding—he meant no harm. Just a scared mistake. Don't hold it against him."
"!!!"
Wendigo's defense shocked Isaac so much he forgot the pain in his back. Shamans convincing spirits to save lives? Sure. But a spirit convincing others to spare one? Unheard of.
If a storyteller spun that, Isaac would've mocked them senseless. A helpful spirit? As if!
"Skadi, release the spell. OneTon, off him. Hey, hide those teeth. No eating non-enemies, no matter how hungry."
'...Talking like that, it has to be a spirit.'
Implying enemies were fair game confirmed it. But Isaac wasn't fool enough to ignore his life hanging on this spirit. Freed, he prostrated without hesitation.
"I lost my mind to fear! Daring to use a spell without the land's master's permission!"
Scraped limbs and all, he slammed his forehead down. He'd forgiven him already, but Skadi hadn't—Isaac clocked that. Eyes bloodied from torn skin, he kept staring at her.
'No clue why, but she won't tolerate spirit insults. Gotta beg her forgiveness—not the spirit!'
Meeting Skadi's icy gaze, Isaac jolted and headbutted harder—nearly blacking out. He clung to consciousness for another...
"Enough. There's a line to atonement. This is overkill."
"If you say so, Lord Wendigo..."
Wendigo's claw blocked his head; Skadi pouted and stepped back. Her loyalty didn't bend enough to defy him, no matter her grudge.
With her hostility gone, Isaac teared up, bowing sincerely to Wendigo—more genuine than he'd ever imagined.
"Your spirit's mercy spans wider than the sky, kinder than a mother's to her child!"
"No. That's too much flattery."
"? I think it's the smartest, truest thing this fool said today."
Isaac flinched at Skadi's shamelessness, feeling defeated. He'd thought 'Yeah, that was off,' post-flattery—yet she claimed it straight-faced!
"The shaman serving you speaks true. This idiot failed to grasp it and caused you trouble... I'll pay the price."
"Finally getting it. Another spirit would've tortured you near death—no mercy. Live gratefully for Lord Wendigo's grace forever."
"......"
Wendigo admired Skadi's venom and Isaac's calm absorption of it. He'd have bared teeth hearing that himself.
'Skill aside, that viciousness is something.'
"Spirit, tell me the price. Whatever's within my power, I'll do."
Wendigo was impressed by Isaac's resolve—no lies, just anxiety. If doable, he'd deliver...
'Nothing useful comes to mind.'
'Surely no impossible tasks for a nobody like me.'
Isaac knew his worthlessness—Skadi's display alone priced him out. Plus, this spirit was suspiciously kind. Half that flattery was sincere.
'Hmm... He wants to contribute so bad—hard to refuse.'
Isaac would've wept blood at that thought, but Wendigo settled on a fair, low-burden price.
"As a wandering shaman, you know a bit about spells beyond this forest, right?"
"Yes! My level's lowly—worlds below this shaman—but I know some!"
Isaac downplayed himself maximally, but it didn't faze Wendigo. What mattered: he knew spells, enemy or not.
"Good. Then here's your task."
Isaac relaxed. This spirit wouldn't demand the impossible!
"Yes! Speak it!"
"Teach Skadi the spells you know."
"...Pardon?"
Isaac blurted dumbly at the wildly unexpected demand. But he hadn't misheard.
"Ears clogged with blood? Teach Skadi your spells. Not hard, right?"
"Uh..."
Isaac's throat clicked dryly. Facing Skadi's sullen glare, he thought:
'...Should I just offer an arm and beg forgiveness?'
Teaching her? He'd lose limbs for overstepping...
Isaac seriously pondered becoming a one-armed man.