The young shepherd arrived a few moments later, gasping and out of breath from his gathering. I could hear the munching of grass and occasional bleating from the sheep.

  With a deep and somewhat unbalanced bow to me, he said, “Thank you for saving my life and the lives of my sheep! I appreciate you waiting and-” he drew in his breath, “Oh no!”

  I looked behind me, expecting another attack.

  “My grandfather’s hook! It’s broken!” He cried out and ran over to where the bottom half of the wooden hook lay on the ground near the massive dire wolf.

  Tears filled his eyes. “This wood was a gift from a passing Elven lord, taken from this very tree and promised to bring good luck to all who carried it!”

  My first thought was that the hooked staff brought me good luck because it saved me from the dire wolf. But a second thought struck me.

  “Hand me the hook. I may be able to help.” I said quietly.

  He hesitated, but then, recalling that I was a mage and had saved his life, he picked up the long staff and walked both broken pieces of his precious grandfather’s legacy over to me.

  I nodded and accepted the hook and staff. Deciding that this spot was as good as any, I sat down before the tree where this staff was made, placed the two pieces together in my lap, and began to sing. The song was soft at first, but then picked up a repeating rhythm. It was in the language of the ancient elves, and it was unlikely that the young shepherd boy understood the words.

  I sang of the care-worn, hooked staff’s old life, the tree's life when it was younger and growing alone atop this hill. I sang of water and soil, long seasons and sun. After ten minutes, I brought the song to a close and looked down into my lap. The staff was whole once more, stronger than before, thanks to the refreshing of the magic I had gifted it. A single lily blossom grew out of the healed section; the only sign remaining of the break was a knot that traveled around the entire circumference of the staff where it once had been fractured.

  The boy was wide-eyed and silent as I stood slowly to restore circulation to my legs. I then walked over to where he had moved away from me, patiently waiting for whatever magic I had begun to be completed.

  Thanks to my magical detection spell, I could see that the staff was glowing. It was brighter than an alchemical component like the tooth, but not as bright as my own magical dagger.

  “Here,” I said, handing him the hooked staff. “Take this as a blessing. Mind your sheep, and do not leave them alone while you sleep. Your grandfather’s blessing is now yours to pass on to your children and grandchildren.”

  He accepted the shepherd’s hook from me, bowed, and ran off toward his sheep. He began swinging the hooked staff around immediately, fighting imaginary wolves and bandits all the way back to the village where his tale would no doubt confound and amuse others for generations.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I turned toward the tree and took a step toward home, but was halted by the voice of the AL that whispered into my ear. Enchanter Gwydion earns an ability point for completing the Shepherd’s Hook quest. You earn a bonus title, Shepherd of Shepherds, and an improved favor from those who recognize the title. Ability points may be claimed immediately. Additions and notes have been added to your Book of Quests that remain unread.

  Addressing the AL as instructed at the end of my persona creation, I said, “I choose to place my point in life.” I felt myself glow warmly for a moment and then normal once more.

  I smiled, feeling that this had been a very worthwhile orientation.

  I turned back once more toward the tree but stopped as the sound of approaching hoof clops drew my attention.

  As I moved around the tree, I saw an older man in chainmail armor mounted on a great warhorse. His brown cloak was in tatters as if he had recently seen combat. His hand was on his sword as he approached, but then he lifted it and waved to me. He slowly coaxed his mount at an angle that led in my direction.

  I did not get a feeling of ill will from him. In fact, the feeling was just the opposite. As he drew near, there was a peacefulness about him that seemed almost palpable.

  He looked down at me, smiling from where he sat in an unusually crafted leather saddle. As he took in my appearance and cognito, his eyes widened. “Shepherd of Shepherds?” He said in a voice far gentler than his massive size and strength might otherwise have suggested.

  I saw that his name read “Servant of Light.”

  I bowed and said, “Servant of Light. Welcome.”

  He stared a moment longer and then dismounted. He flipped his reins in a practiced manner, and they wrapped around a low-hanging limb with enough slack that the horse could graze on the thick but spotty grasses at the base of the tree’s large trunk.

  “Well met, brother.” He said in a voice that was both respectful and confused. “You wear the robes of an enchanter.”

  “Apprentice enchanter, sir knight,” I replied respectfully to the older warrior.

  He pursed his lips. “Indeed. Well, servants come in all shapes and sizes. What brings you to this place and at this time?” He asked.

  It was an odd way to ask a question, but I answered truthfully, albeit more poetically than I would normally speak. “A quest fulfilled. Seeking knowledge but finding wisdom in its place.”

  He nodded. “I, too, am on a quest and was planning to pass by but was drawn up this hill by a boy's singing about dire wolves and healing trees.”

  “You are too late for the wolves, although I could have used your aid earlier. And the story of the healing tree might take a little more time.” I offered.

  “It is as good a time to break my fast as any. Do you need assistance in preparing the wolves?”

  I had not even thought about that. I was just going to depart.

  “I’m afraid I do not have the skill to handle such matters. Could I request your assistance?” I asked.

  “It is gladly given. I presume you are seeking the hides of these beasts for their magical properties for armor, bracers, and boots?” He asked.

  Again, I did not even think of this, but enchanters could use the hides of magical beasts for a wide range of purposes. Given their size and nature, and this knight's apparent knowledge of such things, I should bring them back with me before I leave.

  “Do you have skills in that area as well?” I asked.

  “In the skinning and tanning, yes. In enchantments, no.” He admitted with a smile.

  “Since you are traveling and have offered to help me prepare the hides, I shall gladly give you all of the meat you can use, save that which we share as a morning meal.”

  He thought about that for a moment. “I will take what meat I need and will give the rest to the nearby village for use among their poor. Does that meet with your agreement?”

  I smiled. “Even better. Yes.”

  We set about removing the dire wolf hides and preparing the meat. There was far more work involved than I expected. An hour or so into this, the boy returned with a man who appeared to be his father and had the look of patient indulgence in the wild stories of his son. He was not expecting to find a mage and a knight upon the hilltop, skinning three large, dire wolves.

  He looked like he might run off with his son, but our waves and greetings led him over to us. His cautious reluctance around strangers was countered by his curiosity and the urging of his son.

  And so, with the boy present to add embellishments and admitting that he had been sleeping during his all-night duty, for which his father severely scolded him, I told the tale of the three dire wolves. I omitted all mention of the magical gnome, and they did not seem to notice. Nor did they ask why I was here in their lands. It was often the privilege of mages not to be questioned by commoners who feared our often-deserved reputation for arrogance and impatience.

  Such was the father’s happiness by the end of the tale, and in learning that the meats were to be shared in the village, he insisted the village families bring vegetables, bread, and sweets to share a communal lunch on the hilltop. He also promised local tanning water to quickly prepare the hides, so I might leave soon after our meal, since both the knight and I needed to press on.

  The father and boy took off down the hill at a jog to set preparations in motion.

  “This is all more than I expected,” I said, laughing.

  The knight smiled easily. “Such is the way of things when you walk in the light.” He said.

  I studied his calm and confident manner as he finished the last of our work. There was something about him, but I could not quite put my finger on it…