“I hope a fish doesn’t mistake him for a bug,” I said to Rivyn as the mage returned from his search. He followed my gaze to where the fairy darted from spot to spot on the water as he placed his collection down beside me.
“He would give the fish a stomach-ache,” Rivyn replied. I stroked my fingers down the line of his spine as he bent over his prizes, sorting them into pouches. An odd collection, but unsurprising now as I was growing used to mages’ components. The claw of a crab, some type of sea sponge, some tiny shells, a piece of cuttlefish, and something odd looking that he took his dagger to. “Ah, good,” he murmured extracting the object within. “Baby shark,” he told me.
“Athucco,” he said with the bitter sting of magic, and the object shrivelled and turned into a powder which
