Ruger briefly examined his shadow. Perhaps because it had touched that world, or perhaps because it had been born there, his shadow seemed to hold a different significance for the Shadow Servant. Once inside it, the servant became very calm, and its arm rapidly recovered.
Sometimes, a spell was more than a spell. It was also a key to a particular domain.
"This thing is interesting, but its methods are very limited. I barely exerted myself."
Mahama came over as he spoke. Spotting the tea beside the recliner, he reached for it.
Ruger casually took out a bottle of Sour Mushroom Wine and handed it to him.
"For some reason, hearing those words from you makes me want to laugh." Ruger took out two cups and a small round table, then turned and settled back into his old recliner.
Mahama did not bother with a chair and sat directly on the ground. Even then, he was taller than the Kobold Wizard in the recliner.
"Have you grown taller again?" Ruger asked curiously.
"My simplicity contains plenty of variation." Mahama took a long swig of Sour Mushroom Wine, his smile widening. This wine delighted him every time he drank it. "I only look one-dimensional. Every punch is supported by spells. Different circumstances, different spells, different choices..."
Holding the empty cups, Ruger saw that Mahama was already drinking straight from the bottle. He could only put them away and get a drink for himself.
Something seemed to have changed about Mahama.
"Didn't we see each other just recently?" Ruger asked, blinking.
"Yes, recently, though it hasn't exactly been a short time. A hundred days or so," Mahama said with a shrug. "I worked it out yesterday. It's been over two years since we got our own islands. I have a feeling this