Arthur stared at his father, who was in turn staring at a small shard that he had in his hand. The shard was one he had seen countless times while growing up and had asked his father and mother about it, only to be told it was garbage. But his father never threw it out, and his mother seemed to understand it meant something to the man.
The shard was from a vase that Arthur had tripped over while playing with Oren as a child. It had fallen over, shattered, and drawn blood from his younger self. Arthur cried at the time, and his father looked terrified to see so much blood. His mother was more calm-headed as she pulled out a runic card that they kept for emergencies and used it.
The feeling of being in contact with a rune was so comfortable that Arthur had asked his mother multiple times if he could use a card again. Of course, it was expensive, and his mother would berate him every time he became too annoying.
