enchanted

When you travel far enough from the empire's reach, to the places where they never built their little temples and monasteries, you start seeing little charms and trinkets to make life easier: a charm for mild winters, a charm for health, a charm for a good harvest. And so on, and so on. Officially, of course, they are dangerous and unreliable, as are all enchantments performed without the carefully calculated geomancy that keeps the empire stable. Unofficially . . .

I asked once how they are enchanted, these charms and trinkets, and at first they laughed at me. Another city girl asking foolish questions. But I pressed, and finally one of the locals humored me. They had me help them split firewood, and at the end of the day cooked me a hot meal and gave me a scrap of parchment which said that they owed the bearer a favor.

"How did I enchant this?" they asked me.

"You didn't."

"But you know I'll honor it, right? Even if you traded it off?"

I nodded.

"But probably not if it was stolen, and definitely not if whoever tried to turn it in had offended me in some way." They tossed a wooden charm on the table. "This is a promise. That's all. A useful promise, one people would be willing to trade a lot for--but there isn't really a how to it. A promise was made, a promise will be honored."

Their hand hesitated. "That's a charm to help those who are seeking something lost. If you want it . . ."

I handed the parchment back without thinking and fastened the charm around my neck. It certainly couldn't hurt.