Elion walked through the town alone, heading back to the tower. Then he changed his mind, and aimed for the woods. He needed to get more practice in with his abilities, if he was ever going to level them up. He wanted to help Keyla, but didn’t see what he could do for her right now.


    The woods seemed like the best option, because he wasn’t sure how Gorman would feel about him using the tower as his training ground. Besides, he wanted to find someplace a little more private, where he wouldn’t be disturbed.


    He was glad he’d listened to Gorman’s council about not revealing his low level to everyone in the town. Keyla knew, now, but that was it.


    He didn’t want her walking in on him wearing his golden speedo again.


    So he wandered into the woods.


    The forest came right up to the edge of town. Tall, dark trees stretched high overhead. It wasn’t difficult moving between their broad trunks.


    Elion didn’t want to get too deep into the woods and get lost. Or attacked by another infected creature. He worked his way through thickening trees until he found a secluded corner. A massive boulder shielded views from one direction, and a clump of trees provided cover in another. A few shrubs had managed to sprout up nearby.


    He could still see the lights of town through the trees.


    He stood in the middle of the space, turning around slowly to make sure nobody would see what he was doing. Kicking a few rocks aside, he leveled the ground a little, then sat down.


    I have no idea what I’m doing. I really need to find someone to teach me more about this.


    How hard could training be? Was it like flexing a muscle, where the more you did it the stronger you got?


    He kept his rifle slung over his shoulder, just to be safe. He didn’t want to meet another pemalion while unarmed. Sure, he had magical armor and a sharp butter knife now, but the rifle was obviously the superior weapon.


    “Okay,” he said, breathing in deeply, then exhaling slowly.


    He tried calling up Praxis. For several minutes, nothing happened.


    This is an important skill to develop, but I don’t think it’s going to earn me any experience points.  He kept on trying anyway.


    Something shifted in his mind, and he saw his list of available skills in front of him. Grinning, Elion tried to select Manifest Armaments.


    He couldn’t do it.


    “Whatever,” he muttered. “Manifest Armaments.”


    << Manifest Armaments >>


    A chill breeze wafted in, goosebumps prickling on his skin. His clothing had disappeared, replaced with his golden loincloth. The butter knife rested in his right hand.


    Elion scanned the forest, looking to see if anyone had spotted him. Satisfied that he remained hidden, he threw the knife into the trunk of a nearby tree. It embedded into the wood, the handle vibrating softly.


    He closed his eyes.  I know there’s a way to summon it back.


    “Praxis, how do I get my knife back?”


    Unsurprisingly, Praxis did not respond.


    “Manifest Armaments.”


    This did not work either.


    Interesting. Maybe there isn’t a specific command?  Elion sat quietly for a moment. Then he noticed a strange tugging at the edge of his mind. A gentle thread, connecting him to the knife.


    He pulled on it.


    The knife disappeared from the tree in a faint mist, instantly reforming in his hand.


    “Yes!” Elion exclaimed, springing to his feet.


    A twig snapped in the woods nearby. He reached to his back for the rifle. It wasn’t there. It must have disappeared along with his clothes.


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    “Disarm,” he hissed.


    His clothes returned, warm and comforting over his bare skin. The rifle strap jerked, and the weapon fell to the ground behind him. Elion turned, grabbing for the laserarm.


    It lay on the ground in several pieces, completely unfunctional. Something about Elion’s ability had ruined the rifle.


    A bush rustled and someone walked into the clearing. Elion spun, preparing to reactivate his ability and summon his blade.


    He came face to face with an old woman, who looked as startled as he did. She wore a green shawl over her shoulders, and clutched a canvas bag to her chest with both hands.


    “Oh,” she gasped. Elion recognized her from the town meeting.


    “You’re Brynna?” he asked. She had been shouting a lot at the meeting about looking for her son among the infected.


    She regained her composure, color coming back into her face. “I am,” she said. “And you’re Elion.”


    “I am,” he said. “Sorry to have disturbed you.”


    You just startled me,” she said. “I was looking for mushrooms.”


    Elion climbed to his feet. He stood head and shoulders over her stooped form, and offered her a hand. “I’m sorry. I thought this might be a place where I could get some peace and quiet.”


    She accepted his hand and met his eye. “It is,” she said. “I have a lot of mushrooms at home. Sometimes I just come looking for more when I need a break from everything.” She smiled.


    “It’s dangerous to be in these woods alone,” Elion said. “I was attacked by a pemalion the other day.”


    The woman waved an arm dismissively. “The town guard does a good job sweeping the woods. Besides, I’m old. I’ll die soon anyway. Better to enjoy the last days of my life rather than cowering in fear.”


    “Okay then,” Elion said, collecting pieces of his rifle up in his arms. “I’ll leave you to your gathering then.”


    “It’s getting late,” Brynna protested. “How about you escort me back home instead. Here, you can put those into my bag.” She started plucking rifle components out of his hands and dropping them in her bag.


    A few minutes later they walked through the town. Elion carried the bag of laserarm parts and mushrooms on one arm, and Brynna held onto his other. She was small and light, like a stiff breeze might pick her up and blow her away.


    “You’re like my son, you know,” she said. “Handsome, strong, polite. He was always so helpful to have around.”


    “Why did he leave?” Elion asked.


    “He wanted a better life for us,” Brynna said. “He always told me, ‘Mama, you can’t live in this shack forever!’ He went with Selna and Prator because he believed that they could build a better place for us to live.”


    The reached a fork in the road, and she gently led Elion to the left.


    “I know a lot of the people in town don’t trust you,” Brynna said. “Because you remind them of him.”


    Elion nodded. “I wish they didn’t judge me,” he said.


    “But I can tell that you’re different. You’re a boy who respects his mother, and cares for the people around him. Your parents raised you well.”


    The reached a small shack. “Won’t you come inside for a minute? I have some delicious stew warming. All it needs are a few freshly picked mushrooms.”


    “I couldn’t impose,” Elion said as they walked up to her front door.


    “Oh, it wouldn’t be an imposition. I’d welcome the company.”


    Elion resisted. “I should probably be getting back.”


    “Nonsense,” Brynna said, pulling him along. She pushed her door open. They entered a small room. A pot steamed over a cooker in one corner. Brynna pulled out a small table that had been pushed up against the wall, and offered Elion a seat in a rickety chair. The shack was neat and clean, even though it was small. Everything was in its proper place.


    “That’s Hol’s chair,” Brynna said. “He’d be glad to see it getting some use.” She brought over two bowls and some utensils. She recovered a long carving knife from a drawer. A minute spent chopping mushrooms, and she dumped them into the pot. She stirred it with a ladle, then brough it over to the table and served up a helping to Elion.


    He sampled the hot food. It tasted delicious. “This is really good,” he said.


    “It’s Hol’s favorite recipe,” she said. “I hope to make it for him again, before I die.”


    Elion ate his entire helping, and she dished up more for him. After finishing seconds and then thirds, he leaned back in the chair.


    “That’s enough,” he said. “If I eat any more I’m going to explode.”


    Brynna grined. “Stop by anytime you’re feeling hungry. I know Gorman doesn’t do a lot of cooking over in his tower, and Keyla has more of a mind for machines than for meals.” She handed him her bag, still holding his rifle components, but emptied of mushrooms. “You can borrow my bag,” she said.


    He accepted it and rose from his seat.


    Brynna opened the door for Elion. She grabbed his arm as he walked out. “Thank you,” she said.


    “No,” Elion protested. “Thank you. That really was delicious.”


    She waved from the open door until Elion was out of sight down the road.