My blade danced against the dead tree, focusing on the routine I had been taught. Again and again. Too slow. I told myself, wiping the sweat from my brow.


    “Hey Nam!” Grastel called out from behind me. I stopped and turned to face my friend.


    “Hey,” I said, sheathing my sword.


    “Still brooding, huh?” He teased, nodding at the ruined dead tree.


    I didn’t answer.


    “Worried about Ellin?” Grastel asked, sitting on a broken log half covered in moss. “She’s probably safe back in Valarest.” He stretched his legs.


    I tightened my right hand. “It’s not that.”


    Not just that.


    “Am I a good leader, Grastel?” I asked him.


    Grastel frowned up. “Where’s that coming from?”


    I sat down on a rock and exhaled, biding my time to find the words. “Back then at the Academy… I passed out at a critical moment,” I recalled. “When we fought the hellhounds… we almost got overwhelmed. And that other time we nearly got turned into troll food…”


    My strength had always been in combat, or so I thought.


    “It’s not your fault Namrick,” Grastel said. “Sometimes the unexpected just happens.”


    “No!” I said louder than I wanted to, and took a moment to calm myself. “A good leader should always be ready. A good leader should not pass out when it matters most. I-”


    I put my face in my hands. “Things are happening… and I’m not in control. We almost got wiped out, twice! I should be the one looking out for you guys… the one you can depend on…”


    Grastel pressed his hand on my right shoulder.


    “Nam,” he said. “We can’t ask for a better leader.”


    “Then why do I feel so… powerless?” I asked, looking at him. “Ellin is rising in popularity… will she really stay in our small party? And Allen… he always seems so busy in so many pursuits. We just registered our party and it’s already fraying at the seams.”


    I couldn’t help but feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. We remained in silence for several breaths.


    “I’m not leaving,” Grastel said. “Whatever you might think, you know how to attract the right people. And we know we can trust you, Namrick. And look,” He said pointing at himself. “We’re all still alive! We’re not doing that bad by all accounts!”


    He was not wrong, but I had known how a good leader was meant to be. “Relying on luck is not what Artas taught me.”


    “Again with you old mentor…” He puffed, rolling his eyes.


    “Guys! Was looking for ya!” Yusdrolir exclaimed, approaching from the beaten path. “Merchants be telling we march in a Repose. Whatcha up to? Woodcuttin’?”


    I turned my head to see the dwarf shooting an appreciative look at the skewered dead tree. He was leading the horse with our equipment.


    Grastel grinned. “Namrick’s brooding about our missing party members’ busy schedules and failing his mentor.”


    “Riiight. Ye said there was a story about the old party or somethin’… lemme grab a seat!” Yusdrolir growled, as he lifted a rock and moved it near us. He then brushed the upper side, pushing rock in a more comfortable shape as if were dough. “Oh, I got some booze from the traders.” He grinned waving a flask.


    “Weren’t you abstaining?” I asked serious. It wasn’t too long ago that he’d been a drunken liability.


    Yusdrolir grumbled. “Ellin’s not here! Gods she sometimes scowls like ma gran.” He complained. “Anyways, Allen says I should avoid the forbidden fruit effect or somethin’? Change why ya drink and stuff. Then he did a thing to ma ring to… discourage me… So, yeah. Thought ya guys could use a drink together?”


    He asked shaking the flask again.


    I suppressed a flash of irritation at finding that Allen had gone behind my back in a party-related decision.


    My dad always said that giving booze to a drunkard was never a wise move. But on the other hand, Allen was both older and more paranoid than me, so I decided to trust his judgement on how to deal with Yusdrolir’s problem. Just this once.


    “Do you know why I quit my previous party?” I asked Yusdrolir.


    “Ye kept short on details… but I asked around,” The dwarf admitted, shooting a glance at Grastel. “Didn’t like the prissy nobleman taking over, didn’t ya?”


    “That’s only half the story,” I said, taking a deep breath and recalling how I became an adventurer.


    A young Namrick had walked into the Adventurer’s guild, full of determination, only to be laughed at. My face still flushed at the memory of how foolish I had looked then.


    Nobody would have brought a brat like me on a quest. Soon after, my father walked into the guild and started shouting at me, but I was stubborn and held my ground. I was determined to become an adventurer and a swordsman.


    Amused by the ruckus, Artas approached us, and made a suggestion. He would test the boy’s mettle in a real adventure, making sure no real harm would come to him. That would either discourage the boy or prove he was cut for the job.


    “Heh, first time I walked in an adventurer guild—half drunk and angry—I demanded to kill something, anything,” The dwarf grinned. “Almost got me killed thrice. They named me Crazy Yaz.” He shook his head, and took a swig at the flask, then passed it to Grastel.


    I continued the telling.


    Back then I didn’t know who Artas was, I was just happy someone was willing to bring me along on an adventure.


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    My mentor’s name wasn’t very known publicly, as he didn’t have any great deed to his name, but my father must’ve known about him or he wouldn’t have agreed.


    I’ll never forget my first quest. Artas, and one of his friends brought me out of the city and into a dense forest.


    We were to hunt a lone wolf who was attacking people in the area.


    They gave me a backpack that was heavy for a kid, and solid stick that I could use to walk and defend myself. I struggled to keep up with the pace, but I made no complaint.


    I didn’t realize Artas was mentoring and testing my mettle all the while. I was blinded by eagerness to prove myself. It was later after we camped, that we were attacked.


    Artas had left earlier to procure food, so it was just me and the other man. All of a sudden the lone wolf came from the bushes and jumped on Artas’ friend, who screamed in pain.


    It was bigger than I had imagined. A big gray wolf, snarling and menacing. Hearing about wolves didn’t describe what they really looked like in person. How terrifying they could be.


    I was paralyzed for a moment, before remembering I had the stick. I couldn’t abandon the man and run. I found my courage and swung and poked at the big gray wolf, yelling and screaming, so that it would move away from the wounded man.


    I put myself between them, and screamed desperately for Artas. My arms were shaking badly and I was blinking tears away. But I held my ground.


    Then the man I thought I was defending put a hand on my shoulder and yelled something at the wolf, which stopped and moved away, no longer snarling or attacking. Artas walked over from behind a tree.


    It hadn’t been a real attack. The wolf was a familiar. I felt confused, then shamed and betrayed.


    I sulked on the way back, until the moment Artas stopped me, clasping my left shoulder, and told me. “You held your ground, boy.” Then he nodded and we resumed walking.


    He didn’t mock me for the words of bravado I had spoken on the way up. I think I had said something about fending off waves of goblins. I had been foolish, as kids are.


    But I had shown my true character. And more important I had proven it to myself. I stood straighter.


    We stopped halfway to gather rare herbs for his friend, who turned out to be a mage. I still stood clear off the wolf. It’s size had been too intimidating for the younger me.


    When we got back, Artas gave me a small portion of the herbs we collected, and instructed me how to turn them in at the guild. He would later speak to my father.


    And he did.


    My father was reluctant at first, and Artas made no light of the dangers of an adventurer’s life. But he vouched that I had what it takes and would mentor me.


    “Remember when we tested Allen’s mettle?” Grastel interrupted. “That was something.” He took a sip and passed me the flask.


    “Yeah, he was really enthusiastic,” I said, my lips curling up as I remembered that scene. “I never saw a first-timer kicking a verkling in the nuts and following with a headbutt.” I drank a sip and passed the flask back to Yusdrolir.


    I kept to myself the disturbing dreams of endless sparring against Allen that had been plaguing my dreams of late. Allen would never be that vicious in our training sessions. A ploy for the God of Nightmares to try distancing him from us?


    “Oh-ho? That sounds like Allen,” The dwarf said. “Maybe ya guys should tell him not to growl so loud. He attracts the enemy attention.”


    “We did. More than once,” Grastel said “But maybe he wasn’t listening. You know how he is when lost in thought.”


    We all nodded together.


    “And Ellin? Did ye test her meddle as well?” Yusdrolir asked.


    “Ah, that is a tale for another day,” I said with a smile. “We should let her do the telling. when she’s back with us.” I hoped she was well.


    The dwarf grunted. “So, what happened next?”


    “And then,” I resumed the story. “Artas took me under his wing…”


    From that day on he brought me along with his party, and I learned so many things.


    Artas was well known amongst adventurers. He had mentored several of them, and he had many friends.


    I started by bringing along the backpacks, and slowly learned the ropes, the sword tricks, how to lead, and how to care about a party. And so on.


    Artas had seen something in me, and I wasn’t going to disappoint him. I didn’t know then, but he was coaching me to become his successor.


    Our quests didn’t always go as anticipated, but he always planned ahead to minimize dangers. What to bring along for safe travels. Weak points for monsters and creatures. How to get a feel about other adventurers.


    I thought things would always be the same, but my mentor was already past his prime. And then came that day.


    It was not during a battle or a quest. We were heading home, traveling through a mountain path, when Artas shoved me away from sudden falling rocks and ended up with a broken leg. We didn’t have a healer with us that time and we were two days from the closest town. We set his leg best we could and gave him a health potion.


    But that leg never healed fully right. Artas’ time as an adventurer was over.


    A good adventurer knows when it’s time to quit. My mentor had said with a melancholic look.


    To this day I still feel guilty. If only I had been more careful. If only…


    And then everything changed.


    I was too green to lead the party, and by right the position was to fall in hand to the nobleman in our party, who had also been sponsoring us.


    I will not name or defame him, as I agreed when we parted ways. But he wasn’t good at leading. He was not Artas.


    He also did not listen to me, for he didn’t need the opinion of an inexperienced “peasant”.


    I admit I had been wrong a few times, and perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut in some occasions. But that nobleman had even dismissed the basic teachings Artas had imparted on me.


    He cared not much for the safety of the adventurers under his command. He did not anticipate situations. He just lead arrogantly. It was only a matter of time before everything would come crashing down.


    At last, I confronted him about all this and he gave me an ultimatum. Fall in line or leave the party.


    I left.


    It broke my heart to leave the party Artas had built—which I considered almost like a second family—but I had to.


    A good adventurer knows when it’s time to quit.


    I may not be a noble, highly educated, or from a strong bloodline. But I had learned from the best teacher that I should listen to my guts. And so I did.


    From then I joined other adventurers in their quests. Until one day, when I heard that the Verdant Crest had been nearly wiped out on a quest.


    That day my former party had disbanded. No one trusted the nobleman to lead them anymore. That had been the last straw.


    I found Artas in the Guild, drinking away his sorrow. “Should have been you leading them, Namrick.” He told me, shaking his head and blinking away a tear. Good people had died. Some of them friends.


    Could I have prevented it had I been there? Reduced the casualties? As if reading my mind he told me. “It was not your fault. They knew who was leading them. We’re adventurers, not slaves. It’s by our own choices that we meet our death. Remember that.”


    Then I slumped down and sobbed. No shame in that. What is a friend who’s got no tears for his fallen comrades? Artas knelt down and hugged me, and we poured our tears on the ground, until there ware no more to give.


    I keep this last memory to myself. Some things should be remembered, not told.


    The dwarf broke the silence. “So… yer mentor… is he still kickin’?” Asked Yudrolir lifting his eyebrows.


    “Yes,” I replied. “Who do you think introduced me to the former Royal Sword?”


    I smiled grateful to my mentor, who was still looking up for me even in his retirement. “And now I wonder if I really am up the task, to live up to what he taught me…” I said, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension.


    “I’ve seen worse.. much worse.” Yasdrulir said. “I’ve been worse as well…” He stared at the flask in his hands, shook his head, and offered it to Grastel, who declined.


    “This may be a small party. But ye guys are the first that don’t make me feel like dwarven scraps. Yer doin’ well by my book.”


    The dwarf stood up and sighed. “Wish you guys had called on me when the demon-thing came over them prissy mages academy.”


    Grastel shrugged. “We were in a rush. It was all so sudden. Sorry Yus.”


    “Heh. It’s okay. Just sayin’… you can count on me when your lives are on the line.”


    I nodded.


    We all stood up and headed toward the main camp, from whence the smell of roasted meat was wafting from.


    We would soon go back on the road.


    I wished Ellin was here with us, and wondered what she thought about me.