ã€ŠWanderborn [A High Fantasy LitRPG] [M-F Daily Updates]ã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Tenebres

    Tenebres had little chance to defend himself when Kellen and his enforcers burst into his little bedcave, ropes in hand, as he was sound asleep.

    Yet just an hour earlier, he''d been tossing and turning, awake and uncomfortable and unable to get any real rest.

    It wasn¡¯t his hard pallet, or his empty stomach, or the damp, stale air of his little bedcave that kept him awake. He had lived with those discomforts for so long, they had long since faded into the background.

    It wasn¡¯t anxiety that he had been caught snooping, either. He was convinced that Kellen was too arrogant to think that any of his good little sheep had stepped out of line. The cult leader would never suspect any of them of breaking into his personal chambers, much less doing so to peek through the books he kept poorly hidden in his study. Kellen¡¯s paranoia stayed focused on the outside, towards the wardens and knights that he claimed hunted for this little cult.

    After all, those claims were such a good way to ensure no one argued with their isolation in the underground compound.

    Sure, Tenebres had nearly gotten caught yesterday, while everyone else was cloistered, praying futilely for the end of winter to bring with it the fall of the Realm, but Kellen¡¯s thugs were more tough than observant. His first couple close-calls had kept him up with fear, but after months without being noticed, Tenebres knew with all the surety of a sixteen year old that the cult¡¯s supposed leaders were far too self-absorbed to notice his little intrusions.

    He wasn¡¯t even trapped in consciousness with memories of his old life, as still happened to him occasionally. Those nights where he lay awake, tortured by half-remembered sunshine, friends whose faces he couldn¡¯t quite recall, and long gone camping trips with his father, hadn¡¯t quite faded entirely, but they became harder to remember with each passing month. They weren''t strong enough to haunt him that night.

    No, his fitful sleep tonight was brought on by dreams. Surreal, confusing, and lifelike, the boy found himself starting awake again and again, gasping in deep breaths, as if he had been submerged in those odd, distant visions and barely came up for air in time.

    In one, he had been pacing back and forth in a room far nicer than any he had ever lived in¨Cfar nicer than any he had ever even seen. It must¡¯ve been something lingering in his imagination from the storybooks he had read when he was younger, in his old life. In the dream, he was anxious, fretting about the lateness of the night, just as he was in real life, but that version of himself was kept awake by a different kind of stress. The stress of an impending deadline, of realizing he was stuck on a road and not liking the direction it was taking him.

    Well. That was nothing new, was it? Tenebres had been trapped for years. But still. The dream was odd. Why would he care about something as aristocratic and pointless as a duel?

    In the next, he had been strolling through the night in a village not so unlike his old home. It was nicer though, more peaceful and plentiful than Culles ever was. This version of him wasn¡¯t nervous about being up so late. This him was eager for the adventure he had planned the next day, to somewhere called the barrens, and he knew he needed to get to sleep. But he was too busy enjoying the clean chill of the night air, the way the moon sat full and bright and clear overhead.

    Was he dreaming about what he could have had, if his family hadn¡¯t followed Kellen? No. This village wasn¡¯t Culles. It wasn¡¯t even Geltis, the next closest settlement he had visited once. This was somewhere else entirely, somewhere he had never been. But then, why did it feel so real?

    Duels and barrens, noble worries and adventurous excitement. It was like his dreams were giving him glimpses into other people''s lives entirely.

    Back in his dark, dank bedcave, laying on his crooked wooden pallet, his threadbare blanket thrown aside in frustration, Tenebres shook his head, trying to dislodge the phantom dreams. It seemed to work at first, the fragments of those other selves tumbling away into the sepulchral darkness, but as soon as he laid his head back down on the bundled up tunic he used as a pillow, he was somewhere else, someone else, yet again.

    This him was used to being up late. If anything, he was happier that way. The night brought peace to the bustling city outside, and more often than not, it also brought fog off the bay, covering the dirty slums and turning them into something almost mystical. Tenebres knew this somehow, within his dream, despite having never been to a city, nor having ever seen the ocean. This him lay on a soft hay mattress, and when he decided to go stalk the nighttime streets, he stretched muscles stronger and more languid than his had ever been, even before three years spent living almost entirely underground, seeing the sun perhaps once a week. Tomorrow night, he had a meeting, but tonight was all his.

    In the dream, Tenebres slid off a bed that reminded him of his old home, and lit a lantern. The light allowed him to see his reflection in a small mirror across the room. But this him wasn¡¯t a scrawny boy trying his hardest to be pretty. This him wasn¡¯t pale and furitive and jumpy. This him wasn¡¯t even a him.

    It was a girl that looked back from that mirror, a powerfully built girl, her body blending strength and softness into a beauty Tenebres had never imagined. Her skin was a deep purple, her eyes a brilliant violet that glowed slightly in the dim room. Suddenly he knew this was someone else, someone real.

    The girl grinned, maybe at her own reflection, but it was like she was looking at him, and she winked playfully, and the dream fell once more to tatters¡­

    But this time, Tenebres didn¡¯t wake up. He finally fell asleep, a small smile on his face, and his last thoughts were of that girl.

    Is this what a good dream is like? he thought as he drifted off.

    And so he had no chance to notice when the little curtain of his bedcave was pulled aside only moments later to reveal the angry rictus of Kellen''s face.

    #

    Tenebres struggled against his bonds, but he knew it was futile. He was scrawny for his age, but even if he wasn¡¯t, it would take a powerful gift to break free of the coarse, thick ropes. The chanting continued unabated around him. The cult members were used to their sacrifices trying to struggle, and they knew its futility just as well as he did. He was already on the ritual altar¨Cif he hadn¡¯t broken free when they were carrying him here, he wouldn¡¯t succeed now.

    All his writhing succeeded in doing was turning him on his side, pointing his face towards two of the cultists standing near the chanting circle. They clearly weren¡¯t high level enough to participate in the ritual itself, so they stood with the other low level cult members, their eyes downcast and their hoods covering their faces. Still, Tenebres recognized them. The shapes of his parents, even under the loose robes, were engraved in his soul as clearly as any gift.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    If he wasn¡¯t gagged just as thoroughly as he was tied, Tenebres might have called out to them, pled for them to help him. But deep down, he knew that would be a waste of time. It wasn¡¯t that they couldn¡¯t see the desperation in their son¡¯s eyes¨Cthey just didn¡¯t care. The cult had taken everything from his parents in the course of their induction. What little worldly possessions they had. Their home. Their name. Their will. And now, apparently, their son. If they hadn¡¯t fought then, they certainly wouldn¡¯t now.

    Tenebres grimaced and squirmed more intensely as he felt the magic in the air around him begin to shift and warp, reacting to the cult¡¯s chants. His thrashing threatened to bring him to the edge of the flat stone slab he had been placed on, and he began to try to writhe towards it, every muscle in his skinny body flexing with the effort. He could tell, from the crushing weight of the magic as much as from the increasingly impassioned voices of the chanters, that the ritual was reaching its peak. Perhaps, if he could get off of the altar just as the ritual concluded, he could spoil the magic. A hard sprawl on the rock floor would hurt, but it would be better than being sacrificed, right?

    No luck. All his thrashing did was earn him the attention of the cult¡¯s patriarch. Rough hands grabbed the boy by the shoulders and flipped him onto his back, once more in the center of the crude stone altar.

    ¡°None of that, boy,¡± Kellen¡¯s voice was rough, and reeked of the pungent tack he was constantly chewing. The patriarch was not an impressive man under his vestments, his face as sunken as his body was sallow, but he boasted the gift of might, and his thin arms were like bars of iron slamming down on Tenebres¡¯s shoulders. ¡°It¡¯ll only hurt a moment. And just think. You¡¯ll be part of something truly great!¡±

    ¡°HMMHUMFOUU!¡± Tenebres made every effort to cuss the man out through the disgusting rag stuffed in his mouth. The result was unintelligible, but he could tell that Kellen understood from the way the chief cultist¡¯s eyes went hard.

    ¡°Well enough. Get it all out, boy,¡± Kellen growled through a rictus smile. He leaned lower, so his oily whisper didn¡¯t carry beyond Tenebres¡¯s ears. ¡°This is what you get for poking your nose where it doesn¡¯t belong.¡±

    The chanters were practically screaming the sybillant words of their unnatural ritual now, and even to Tenebres¡¯s unenhanced senses, the weft and warp of the magic in the air was sickening. The boy made every effort to choke back the nausea it inspired¨Cthe last thing he wanted was to die choking on his own vomit.

    Oh, who was he kidding? The last thing he wanted was to die at all, but that choice had been taken out of his hands. Tenebres was sixteen, old enough to receive his gifts, but no Divine Archetype had yet carved their power into his soul. He hadn¡¯t even been able to get a relic. Kellen and his cohort carefully controlled the distribution of gifts among the underlings of the cult. Couldn¡¯t risk a sacrifice being able to call up a gout of flame or conjure a weapon to escape, now could they?

    Bastards.

    That was it. That was when Tenebres gave up. He couldn¡¯t escape on his own, not without the very power Kellen had denied him. His parents certainly wouldn¡¯t help. They had given up long ago, even before they first met the charismatic man who asked them to come to a meeting in the woods. Even if the ropes disappeared at that moment, Kellen still stood over Tenebres, boasting the power of an Initiate, a level no one else in the cult could match. The magic continued to stir around Tenebres, thick and oily, like he was immersed in a pool of slugs, all sliding against his body.

    He felt it when the magic finally violated him and began to sink into his skin. There was no need for Kellen to bother with something as crude as the ritual knife Tenebres had seen him use with other sacrifices. This was an important ritual, an artificial thinning of the impermeable barrier between the Realm and the Void. Tenebres wasn¡¯t supposed to know that, of course, but that had never stopped him before.

    Ever since he was young, Tenebres had a hunger for knowledge. Prior to his parents giving up their lives to a backwoods, idiotic cult, he had planned to one day take the Mage¡¯s exams. It didn¡¯t matter how poor you were if you had a gift for alchemy or artifice. He could¡¯ve provided for his family, given them comfortable lives. Instead, they listened to Kellen¡¯s bullshit. After they moved into the reclusive, half-buried commune the cult inhabited, Tenebres sated his thirst of knowledge the only way he could¨Cby sneaking in the chief cultist¡¯s rarely used study to read through his books himself.

    Not that any of that mattered now. The books were thick and complex, but from Tenebres¡¯s understanding, the ritual was an attempt to beckon the power the tomes referred to as the Void. The energy of it already filled the subterranean ritual chamber, and it was even now working to consume his soul and the vast magic inherent to all living humans. The ritual called for a very specific sacrifice, an unalloyed soul, one strong enough to bear gifts but that had not yet received any. He¡¯d die, consumed by the energy of the Void, but in his place would be¡­ something. Some remnant of the Void. Tenebres hadn¡¯t parsed out the book fast enough to learn exactly what, but it couldn¡¯t be good.

    He could feel it happening, the corrupted magic seeping into his blood and flesh and bone like hot tar. Finally, he screamed. And screamed, and screamed, his gag unable to muffle the depths of his pain. Across the cavern, unnoticed, his parents flinched¨Cbut still, they took no action. As the burning, searing pain rampaged through his body, Tenebres felt the magic changing him. His once olive skin became tinged with an unnatural gray, even as his hair bleached to a dead, bone white. His eyes began to glow with a blood red light, startling enough to make even Kellen take a step back in surprise.

    Finally, the pain began to coalesce in his chest. His body ravaged, the magic began to consume his soul. Tenebres was past screaming now, his back arched into an unnatural bow from pain that felt like it would never end. He began to long for the embrace of death, the cessation of that horrible, soul-rending agony.

    And then, just like that, it stopped.

    And Tenebres was still alive.

    His body dropped down to the slab, every muscle giving out at once. He tried desperately to draw breath, his body screaming for air, but the gag kept him from the deep gasps he needed. Sweat beaded on his skin, emphasizing his ghoulish pallor and matting down his mussed white hair.

    For a long moment, the ritual chamber was silent but for his ragged breaths. Even Kellen had no idea what happened. That confirmed what Tenebres had always suspected, that the patriarch didn¡¯t fully understand the magic he was trying to abuse anymore than Tenebres did.

    Kellen had bound him only with rope, not wasting time with any ritual or item capable of dampening gifts. After all, Tenebres did not have any gifts.

    Or at least, he hadn¡¯t, not until the cult had engraved the gift of the void onto a soul that had somehow survived the process. The pain had receded, leaving behind a vague sense of potential, of power. Gifts were, by and large, supposed to be intuitive to use due to their connection to the souls they were carved into. Tenebres reached for that power instinctively, and it responded to his thoughts.

    [Void Invocation] activated

    The next screams in the little stone room did not come from Tenebres.

    #

    Leagues away from that underground sacrificial chamber, sitting under a broad oak tree, a tall, slender man looked up sharply from the book he was reading. His eyes, an eerie shade of yellow, locked on some distant point in the sky. There was a problem, visible to his senses like a knot in a carefully sewn bolt of cloth, though few others in all the Realm would be able to perceive such a thing.

    ¡°Something¡¯s changed.¡±

    The empty air around him did not respond. His eyes were a warm hazel when he stood, snapping his book shut with a sigh. He suspected he would not have another chance to read it for a long while.

    Then he began to walk.

 Chapter 2 - Cadence

    Cadence took a deep breath of the fresh air, and let out a contented sigh. The biting chill of winter had finally given way to the refreshing breeze of spring, and every breath filled her lungs with the scent of budding plants and made her soul rejoice in the magic singing through the air. She felt energized, despite how late she had stayed up after sneaking out for a walk.

    This far into the forest, Cadence knew she was alone. Most days the hunters would be out, crawling through the dense trees in a search for any sign of monsters, but they were all back in town today, discussing their patrol routes and what they had defeated in the course of the prior months, as they did on the first day of each season. Winter was the most dangerous time to live outside of the cities, but for those brave hunters willing to take advantage of the season, there were great rewards to be had. Now, as spring began, it was time to consolidate those gains and losses alike and plan for a new season.

    Cadence was relaxed and happy. She had always preferred her own company to that of the other kids in Felisen, and wandering the woods just felt¡­ right. It was where she was happiest. And despite her solitude, the forest was far from quiet. The slender girl was immersed in the sounds of the forest. The rattling leaves and breaking twigs caused by smaller animals scurrying through the undergrowth, the chirping and buzzing of insects flitting through the air, the songs of the birds as they glided between trees to snap up their tiny prey.

    Cadence¡¯s mother had taught her the cycles of the forest bordering their sleepy little village since she was old enough to remember. Through autumn, the magic of the forest built up, leading to an increased series of manifestations. The hunters and loggers of the village took advantage of this time to forage, collecting plump berries that gleamed with the magic they drank in, branches and logs of shimmering white wood, and golden mushrooms that never spoiled. These reagents represented a large portion of Felisen¡¯s economy, as craftspeople and alchemists from the cities would eagerly pay for such naturally magical resources.

    As the season deepened into the chill of winter, the manifestations would become more intense. That was when bramble-spawn and other magical beasts would become more common. Only skilled hunters, like Cadence¡¯s mother, braved the wood come winter. Their efforts (when successful) not only protected the village from potentially dangerous creatures, but supplied additional rare reagents and even totem relics. The gradual magical recession of spring and the mystically barren summer months then allowed for the hunter teams to clear out any lingering manifestations before the cycle began again.

    All of that to say, this was the perfect time for Cadence to slip off into the woods and satisfy a curiosity that had driven her mad for most of the past few years. Deep in the forest, more than five miles out from Felisen, was a remote region simply called ¡°the barrens¡± by the locals. No one went to the barrens, outside of a single expedition each spring. That expedition included every hunter in the village, as well as nearly every gifted adult whose blessings could contribute in a dangerous situation, but even Cadence¡¯s own mother was tight-lipped as to the actual point of the trip.

    Even more mysterious was that nothing ever seemed to happen. The expedition always returned in the same condition it left in, raising yet more questions as to the point of the exercise. Cadence had never understood why exactly the barrens were so frightening, and her mother, along with every other adult in the village, refused to explain it. Any time the village children asked about them, they were brushed off.

    ¡°The barrens are a bad place.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter why.¡±

    ¡°Stop asking, they¡¯re just forbidden!¡±

    But if they were so scary, why did the expeditions come back fine every time? Cadence wasn¡¯t naive¨Cshe knew that her mother faced considerable danger in the course of the duties expected of everyone who had a gift of the hunter. She knew what it looked like when a hunter returned from a close encounter with a dangerous beast or an unexpected bramble-spawn. She had even attended two funerals for hunters who didn¡¯t return from their patrols. As far as Cadence could tell, winter was far more dangerous than the barrens ever were.

    That made the dangers of the barrens a mystery, the kind of mystery that Cadence couldn¡¯t help but wonder about. Her friends growing up¨Cor, more to the point, her peers, as she had never really been very friendly with most of them¨Cwere all willing to accept what the adults said about the barrens, to take the evasive answers at face value.

    But today, Cadence would finally get her answers! It was the safest time to wander the forest. The magic was beginning to recede for the spring, and all the dangerous manifestations had been hunted by her mother and the other hunters throughout the winter. With those same hunters at the bonfire hill, Cadence could be sure she wouldn¡¯t get caught sneaking off into the woods. The air was cool and invigorating, and her pack carried a skin of water in addition to a small loaf of hearty bread, a pair of fresh apples, and a precious little pouch of glintcaps.

    Sure, she could wait just a couple more seasons. Cadence was sixteen now, old enough to accept her first gifts, and she anticipated that her mother would likely find a totem to bestow on her soon, if she hadn¡¯t already that winter. Cadence had no doubt that once she had a totem gift and passed the trial of the hunter, she¡¯d be let in on the mystery of the barrens¨Cbut where was the fun in simply being told the answer to a question? This was Cadence¡¯s last chance to find the answer for herself!

    The girl paused by the side of a river, fishing out an apple from her pack. She had come four miles already, and she was starting to get hungry. As she bit into the juicy fruit, she idly looked around the woods, smiling unconsciously at the simple beauty of the springtime forest. It really was a perfect day.

    Cadence¡¯s eyes caught sight of her reflection in the gentle water. She was small for her age. Even after she had hit her teenage years, when everyone told her she¡¯d grow, she only gained a few inches of height¨Cjust enough to make what little weight she put on unnoticeable. Cadence didn¡¯t mind though. Her mother was small too, but Ryme was the most respected hunter in Felisen. Besides, if she had gained the kind of figure some of the other girls in the village had over the past couple years, she wouldn¡¯t be able to be Caden anymore!

    Cadence grinned down at her reflection. Wearing plain, functional clothes of homespun linen, with a soft leather jerkin over the top, Cadence¡¯s gender wasn¡¯t immediately obvious to anyone who didn¡¯t know her. She kept her sky blue hair cut short to add to the look. Sometimes, when the merchant caravans passed through, later in the year, Cadence would change her bearing and garb enough to slip among them as Caden, a mischievous boy who could get away with all the things the daughter of a respected hunter couldn¡¯t.

    In truth, there were days Caden felt even more natural than Cadence. But this wasn¡¯t one of them.

    On Cadence¡¯s shoulder, next to the rougher cloth of her travelpack, rested her quiver. It had been a gift from her mother a couple years before, along with the shortbow that rested unstrung inside it. The arrows, she had fletched herself. Ryme expected her child to be self-sufficient, gifts or no gifts. Cadence had even purchased the little knife and the leaf-bladed hatchet she had used to fletch the arrows with money she earned helping out the artisans around town, and both tools rode on her belt.

    Deciding to finish the rest of the apple while walking, Cadence nimbly hopped along a series of stones that just barely crested above the babbling waters of the brook, and continued on her way, treading ever deeper into the woods.

    #

    It was only an hour or so later that Cadence suddenly stopped. The endless rustling of the woods around her had changed in a tiny, near-imperceptible way. Cadence would have a hard time clearly explaining what she had noticed, but she knew that something was definitely wrong. The woods suddenly didn¡¯t feel so welcoming or relaxing.

    One hand slowly slipped down to her hatchet while she cautiously surveyed her surroundings. She was on a thin game trail, and the brush was heavy to every side. Cadence had just enough time to realize what all that undergrowth meant when there was rustle next to her, then a blur of motion shot toward her arm.

    A burst of panic rippled through Cadence¡¯s belly like a horde of butterflies had just burst out of their cocoons, but she was still her mother¡¯s daughter. Quickly, the fear faded, and she wore an excited grin. For all of her practicing, this was the first time she actually got to fight something!

    The vines that wrapped around her wrist were skinny, but there were quite a lot of them, and they were lined with tiny little thorns. That last part would¡¯ve been a problem if Cadence hadn¡¯t been wearing the hard leather armguards she used whenever she practiced her archery. Instead of digging into her skin, the bramble thorns caught on the tough material. Still, the vines were tugging insistently, threatening to tip her off balance and keeping her hand from reaching for her hatchet. Cadence frowned and leaned back against them. It was easy enough. The pulling vines weren''t much stronger than an eager boy, and she had certainly fought enough of those off over the last couple years.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Cadence turned to defiantly face the underbrush as her free hand reached for the slender knife she kept on the other side of her belt. The girl gritted her teeth, pulling on the vines until they were taut, their far end disappearing in the bushes a few feet away from her. Still grinning with adrenaline, she reached over her bound arm with her knife, and began sawing at the thin vines. They gave quickly, the top few flinging back with little bursts of green sap as she cut through them, and the bushes the vines had emerged from gave an odd whistling shriek.

    ¡°That''s what I thought! Little bugger!¡± Cadence shouted at the bush. The finely-honed blade had cut through half the vines holding her wrist in just a few moments, but she didn¡¯t cut herself free of the rest of them. Instead, she pivoted, placing a foot behind her, and pulled. The remaining vines weren¡¯t strong enough to resist the motion, and after just a second¡¯s quivering tension, the base of the thorny vines came flying out of the bush it was hiding in.

    As Cadence suspected, it was a bramble-spawn. It was a tiny one though, as she had hoped, which must¡¯ve been how the hunters missed it. If it was much bigger, Cadence had planned to just finish cutting free of the vines and run, but even without a gift, she was pretty sure she could handle such a minor threat. The core of it looked like little more than a ball of tangled vines, roots, and leaves slightly smaller than her head, though Cadence knew from her mother¡¯s stories that there would be a bulb in the middle of the knot. That was the actual core of the thing, and what she actually had to break to kill it.

    The bramble-spawn made that odd whistling noise again, and more vines shot out of the mass. Cadence had grown up hearing stories from the village hunters about the terrifying and exotic powers of the overgrown monstrous weeds that were so ubiquitous to the forest, but she was starting to think this one was too young to have anything more than the single attack it kept making with those vines.

    Rather than try to bait out any other abilities it probably didn¡¯t have, Cadence¡¯s now-free hand grabbed her leaf-bladed hatchet from her belt, and she took a few careful steps towards the bramble-spawn. It just lashed with a few of those thorn-laced vines, clearly trying to menace the girl, but the thorns were too small to make it through even her simple leather vest and gloves, though they did succeed at poking through her woven shirt and pants, particularly around the more exposed fabric on her upper arms and legs. Even still, the scratches were barely more painful than those she had gotten from overly playful cats.

    She crept closer to the bramble-spawn one step at a time, her hands held up to protect her face once she was close enough for the growth to reach that high. Then her keen bladed hatchet went to work and soon the monster didn¡¯t have any more vines. Or at least, none to menace her with.

    ¡°Oh c¡¯mon. I¡¯m starting to feel bad for you now, little guy,¡± She muttered, watching the thing desperately force a few more little vines out of its central mass in an effort to roll itself away from Cadence. The girl sighed and, before it could get any momentum built up, swung her hatchet down. She grunted a little at the impact¨Cwhile the tangle of plant matter around the weed monster¡¯s core looked loose, it proved surprisingly dense under her hatchet, like when she hit a knot in a log.

    Cadence wiggled the blade free and had just lifted it back up for another swing when the bramble-spawn surprised her. A particularly high-pitched whistle was followed by a single vine shooting out of the mass again. It caught her by surprise, and Cadence reeled back, falling on her butt as a line of scarlet pain erupted across her face. She hissed and lifted a gloved hand to the burning scratch.

    While she was distracted, the little bramble-spawn made good on its escape, managing to start a rolling retreat in the underbrush. ¡°You little bastard!¡± Cadence screamed after it. Desperately, she fumbled for her shortbow, but by the time she had an arrow nocked, even the rustling caused by its fleeing was gone.

    Grumbling, Cadence dropped her bow and flopped onto her back, catching her breath after the brief tussle. Soon the adrenaline began to fade, and then Cadence¡¯s exhilarated grin faltered as the stinging cuts on her arms and legs added to the burning pain on her face. Grumbling, Cadence fumbled around in her pack, eventually finding and pulling out a small soft cloth sack. Inside of it was the only reason she had been willing to try fighting the tiny bramble-spawn¨Ca cluster of half-dozen skinny mushrooms with bright gold caps that glowed in the afternoon sunlight.

    Like all the magical flora she had ever seen, the creatively named glintcap mushrooms seemed to shimmer with their own internal light, a result of the magic they had absorbed as they grew. The ambient magic that built up in the forest each year before dispersing had a wide variety of effects on the plants and animals that called the woods home. Her mother explained to her once how she believed the process worked.

    ¡°It¡¯s all about the nature of the plants being affected,¡± Ryme had explained. ¡°Most plants soak it in like ambient fertilizer to speed their growth, then the magic enhances some of their natural traits. So the big old oaks and elms turn into sturdier and more beautiful silverwoods. Shimmerberries become so packed with nutrients that a single one can sustain a hunter for a whole day, while weeds, which are already so fast growing and voracious, become hungry, choking bramble-spawn. But none of those are as important to our village as glintcap mushrooms.¡±

    Ryme had held a cluster of the mushrooms, each about as long as Cadence¡¯s fingers. It was the same cluster, in fact, Cadence now carried on her. ¡°Glintcaps are filled to bursting with life magic. They can help the body heal from injuries, resist poisons, even survive disease.¡± Ryme¡¯s tanned face had turned into a bitter smile. ¡°We live in a dangerous place, Cadence, no matter what those fools in the bastion cities think. So I want you to keep these on you whenever you go into the woods, okay?¡±

    Cadence grinned at the memory, turning the cluster of little mushrooms around in her hand. ¡°Thanks Mom,¡± She muttered to herself. Then she promptly pulled a couple of the mushrooms off of the cluster and popped them in her mouth. She grimaced as she chewed¨Cno matter how often she ate them (and she had needed them quite a few times over the years), glintcaps tasted just as vile, like sawdust soaked in the cheap ale Denning had given her a sip of one night. But still, she forced herself through, and she hadn¡¯t even swallowed the mass down before the little pains all over her body began to tingle and itch. A few minutes later, the only evidence of Cadence¡¯s ill-fated struggle with the bramble-spawn were the little tears in her shirt and pants and the blood she was washing off one cheek.

    ¡°Too bad I didn¡¯t kill it though,¡± Cadence reflected. Killing her first monster would¡¯ve been a fun thing to tell her mother about, and at her age, it might¡¯ve even earned her the gift of the hunter.

    Oh well. There would be other chances. And besides¨Cat least it had been exciting!

    #

    Cadence felt it when she crossed into the ill-defined area of the barrens. The feeling of ambient magic changed even as the trees and bushes around her darkened. In the rest of the unnamed wood that bordered Felisen, the subdued magic of spring felt like a person at the end of a long day, tired and ready for bed but still moving about. The magic of the barrens felt more like¡­ standing on one side of a thick, secure door, like the one that barred the root cellar in the center of town, and hearing movement on the other side. Her nose wrinkled at the odd, almost musty scent of the magic that filled the place.

    Cadence¡¯s steps slowed for the first time since her fight with the little monster, and she looked around the woods the way her mother had taught her. It wasn¡¯t her imagination, the foliage really was different up ahead. It was mild, almost imperceptible at first, but the wood got noticeably darker the deeper she looked into the barrens. Cadence swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, but she hadn¡¯t come all the way out here, risking her mother¡¯s wrath, to chicken out at the very edge of the mysterious barrens.

    Her steps were more careful as she proceeded, though. Her heart was pounding in her chest with an anxiety she couldn¡¯t quite place. There was nothing around her that should be making her this nervous. Without thinking, her hands quietly pulled her hatchet from her belt. Its presence made her feel more secure. It would be wholly insufficient if she was actually attacked, but it might buy her the time to start running. Hatchet in hand, Cadence grit her teeth and proceeded deeper into the ominous barrens, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other, then another, then¡­

    Suddenly, Cadence stopped, blinking in confusion. What was she doing? She was so dead set on just moving forward that she hadn¡¯t even been examining the surroundings for clues as to what made this place so forbidden. It was like she had forgotten anything but going deeper into the dark grove. The girl looked around wildly, suddenly struck by a disconcerting flash of panic. How far had she come?

    The barrens were silent around her. No rustling rodents. No buzzing insects or singing birds. There was none of the undergrowth and loose leaf detritus that perpetually coated the forest floor like the rest of the wood, though the trees around her weren¡¯t evergreens. In fact, Cadence couldn¡¯t place what they were, exactly. Their trunks were thinner than she was used to, seeming to curve and twist in a troubling way. Her eyes traced the weirdly sinuous trunks up to their branches, which were far higher than they were on most trees.

    Those branches were just as twisted as the trunks they sprung from, and they had wrapped around each other in a distinctly unnatural way. Dark wood and black leaves formed a canopy so dense that barely a trace of sunlight could filter through. That was why it was so dark here, why there was no undergrowth. Nothing could grow with only such dim light to sustain it. That at least meant no bramble-spawn, but it was still unsettling, leaving only the spread out tree trunks and the dark dirt they grew out of.

    ¡°That must be it,¡± Cadence breathed to herself. Her voice was soft, but it still helped to break the silence and take a little bit of the edge off of her anxiety. ¡°These trees must have been some sort of magical manifestation. They just¡­ devour light instead of giving it off like a brightbush.. Yeah¡­ yeah, that makes sense.¡±

    That was enough of an answer for Cadence. The barrens must be host to a dangerous form of magic, different from the rest of the wood. Even if there were no weeds to turn into bramble-spawn, Cadence had no doubt that the aura of dread that filled the darkened grove was a product of the magical trees. That dark magic might even be dense enough to make more powerful monsters, the way really bad blizzards could. It was time to go.

    The teenager had just made up her mind and turned around when there was a resounding bellow, the roar of a beast larger and angrier than any she had ever heard.

    And it was between Cadence and the way she had come.

    She didn¡¯t think. She just turned back around and ran from that terrifying sound, deeper into the barrens.

 Chapter 3 - Cadence

    Cadence¡¯s breath burned in her throat and chest as she slid behind the gnarled shape of a fallen tree, dirt and dead leaves flying up around her. She did her best to suppress a little whimper, and curled up to hide in the twisted boughs of the downed tree even as the ground shook underneath her. Through the dim light of the barrens, she could see the hulking shape of the monster that was chasing her. She could hear its breathing, like a great bellows heaving the smell of rotten eggs into the surrounding air. And she could hear the little snorts that interrupted those breaths.

    It knew she was hiding nearby. It was trying to sniff out her scent.

    Cadence clamped her hands over her mouth to smother another whimper, and she heard the giant monster take a couple more steps forward as it searched for her. One of those steps brought it within view of her hiding place, and she had to choke down a scream before she gave away her position.

    Easily twelve feet tall, it was built only vaguely like a human, with two arms and two legs, its proportions all wrong. It was like an unbaked clay statue that had been left in the sun and started to melt before it hardened. It was corpulent, its gross grayish-pink skin stretched over fat that didn¡¯t quite move right, like it was made of mud instead of flesh. Its torso was too long and its legs too short, giving it an almost bell-like silhouette ruined by its two giant arms, which were so long they practically dragged on the ground, and were thicker around than most of the trees in the barrens. Most horrifying of all was its face. Somewhere between a boar and a person, two massive teeth protruded from its deformed lower jaw, almost high enough to interfere with its beady eyes.

    In all her life, Cadence had never heard of anything like this monster. Her mother had told her about all sorts of magical creatures she had fought in the forest, but they had all borne a resemblance to the animals they had been before some quirk in the ambient magic had transformed them. Bears that wore blizzards as fur, wolves that raced through the woods and breathed wildfires, boars whose bristles were rigid thorns. But whatever this thing was, it looked nothing like any animal.

    Was this what happened to people who stayed immersed in dark magic of the grove for too long? Cadence didn¡¯t know, but for once, she didn¡¯t care. She could deal with wondering about the monster for the rest of her life if it would just go away and let her keep running! She felt as much as saw the giant take a couple more rumbling steps, and she prayed to any archetype that was paying attention that it would just go a little farther. If she could just get behind it, she could run back the way she came, and hope she made it out of the barrens before it caught up.

    It wouldn¡¯t follow her out of the barrens, right? She had to hope not. There was no way such a massive monster would be a mystery if it could leave the darkened grove.

    The giant took a couple more steps past her hiding place, and Cadence started to relax. Any moment now, she¡¯d be able to bolt for freedo-

    ¡°Found you.¡± The brutish voice was barely intelligible, pitched so deep that Cadence felt it in her bones more than her ears. A massive, four fingered hand reached down and grabbed one of the larger branches of the dead tree, and in a casual motion, tossed aside the teenager¡¯s hiding place like it weighed little more than a bale of hay.

    Now exposed, Cadence just curled up tighter. It felt like every muscle in her body had seized up. Tears streaked her cheeks. She knew she couldn¡¯t run, not anymore. Those freakishly long arms would snatch her up as soon as she moved. ¡°P-please¡­ please¡­¡± she whimpered, knowing the begging didn¡¯t make any difference, knowing she was about to die.

    ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± the same tectonic voice rumbled, the tone almost lazy. ¡°Little snack sound good.¡± Another of those plow-sized hands reached down towards her, and Cadence closed her eyes tight, refusing to look the monster in the eye as it killed her.

    And then¡­ nothing happened. Cadence whimpered in fear.

    And still, nothing happened.

    ¡°Hrrrgh¡­ whuh?¡±

    At the sound of the monster¡¯s confusion, Cadence couldn¡¯t help but slowly peek through her eyelids, feeling like a child trying to hide from a nightmare but unable to force herself to do anything more.

    She saw the hand, four thick fingers spread towards her, but it was still a few feet away. Instead of moving forward to grab her, the massive, inhuman hand was struggling against a rope looped around its wrist. She had no idea where it had come from, or how anyone could have bound the giant so quickly. The rope fully circled the thing¡¯s thick wrist twice over, and was tied back neatly on itself, so that the giant¡¯s struggle just pulled the rope tighter.

    A sharp crack drew Cadence¡¯s gaze to the other end of the rope, which was apparently tied to one of the larger trees nearby. Somehow, despite the rope''s ordinary appearance, the massive monster was unable to snap it, and instead, his struggles had begun to crack the tree it was tied to. The giant paused for a moment, and Cadence could practically hear the monster trying to figure out what was happening. Despite its terrifying size and appearance, Cadence suspected it was a bit dull, but it had at least managed to puzzle out that further attempts to pull its hand free would send a tree collapsing down onto itself.

    Eyes wide, Cadence slowly uncurled, getting to her knees. The giant was distracted now and seemed to have forgotten about her while it tried to break the rope binding its arm. She knew she should run, but she just¡­ couldn¡¯t. Fear had stolen all of her energy, and her legs trembled even as she tried to rise onto them.

    ¡°Well, that was a close one. Sorry about that.¡±

    Cadence jumped in place and fell back to the ground as she tried to spin around towards the voice that had suddenly spoken behind her.

    Instead of another monster, she saw a startlingly plain-looking man. His skin was a couple shades darker than Cadence¡¯s own, as much from the sun as his blood. His hair and eyes were the same muddy shade of unremarkable brown common to those in the heartlands, and his clothing was simple and functional, similar to Cadence¡¯s own, with a ragged cloak pulled over his shoulders. The only exceptional thing about him was his height. Even had she been standing, he would''ve towered over her.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Despite his ordinary looks, the man looked up at the increasingly angry monster without a flicker of fear. ¡°Ogres¡­¡± he muttered to himself derisively.

    His eyes never quite seemed to focus anywhere, drifting over her, then the monster, then the barrens surrounding them, then the tree the rope was tied to. It was disconcerting when he spoke, still not bothering to look at her. ¡°Would you mind just getting behind me a little bit?¡± His words were still casual and conversational, as if they were talking in the middle of town. ¡°I¡¯d understand if you tried to run, but I would ask you not to. The magic around here is fond of getting people lost.¡±

    ¡°Magic can do that?¡± Cadence asked, wide eyed.

    ¡°Magic can do anything. It¡¯s magic.¡± The giant roared again, and the man¡¯s eyes flicked back to Cadence for a moment. ¡°Behind me? Please?¡±

    Cadence blinked and nodded shakily. Her legs still felt weak when she got to her feet, but she managed to scamper behind the man.

    Once she was securely behind him, he nodded. ¡°Thanks. Just keep your distance.This shouldn¡¯t take long.¡±

    His steps were as casual as his voice as the man started towards the monster. He made a small gesture with one hand, and the ropes binding the giant¡¯s arm suddenly released it, the tidy knot simply coming undone like a trick rope. The giant staggered with an earth shaking step, then lifted a finger to scratch the back of its head. It examined its wrist suspiciously, then shrugged and turned back around, only to see the strange man standing between it and Cadence.

    That only seemed to confuse it more, but it eventually growled approval. ¡°Good. ¡®Nother snack. Bigger too. Heh heh.¡±

    The man watched the giant¡¯s performance placidly. ¡°Sorry big guy,¡± he finally responded, sounding oddly cheerful. ¡°Unfortunately, my story will have a grander end than some ogre¡¯s maw.¡±

    Cadence had never heard of an ogre before, but she could see the giant¡¯s face slowly darken as it processed that response. It didn¡¯t bother with another word and simply bellowed in rage and rumbled towards the man.

    Cadence¡¯s heart leaped into her throat as the man didn¡¯t even try to dodge away from the charge. Only once the monster was only a few feet away did one hand finally move, throwing something Cadence couldn¡¯t see at the ground, and she was suddenly blinded by a brilliant flash of light. She made a noise of discomfort and lifted a hand to her eyes¨Cbut based on the rumbling around her, the attack had been significantly more discomforting for the ogre.

    The monster hadn¡¯t fully recovered from the shocking flash before the man darted forward. Though she was sure such a weapon hadn¡¯t been anywhere on his person earlier, he now held a massive sword. It was unlike the short swords she had seen around town, or even the dangerous brass swords many of the caravan guards that came through twice a year carried. It was nearly as long as Cadence was tall, though the last foot of the blade was wrapped in leather and boasted a curved crossguard, like a second hilt. Spaced along the remainder of the blade were three bright blue gems, perfect matches to the icy shade of his eyes.

    The man tapped the bottom most gem, which began glowing with its own light, before he pivoted in place, bracing the blade with his second arm on that odd extended hilt. A smooth, economical motion swung the blade of the massive sword at the monster¡¯s leg with all the force of the man¡¯s body¨Cwhich should¡¯ve still been entirely insufficient against the corpulent giant¡¯s thick skin and massive limbs. Despite that, the sword buried itself deeply into the monster''s leg, like an axe being swung into a tree, and Cadence swore she could hear the grind of the steel against bone as the man smoothly pulled the sword free and dodged back from the roaring ogre¡¯s swinging arm.

    Cadence knew that the power of gifts, once they leveled up, could allow someone to break the limits of a normal person. Her mother was an Initiate, having leveled up both her gift of the hunter and gift of the bear twice. Despite being little taller than Cadence, she had seen Ryme lift bales of hay with little effort, hit a bramble-spawn with an arrow from across the town square, and catch sight of troublesome children in complete darkness. Still, Cadence had never seen anything like the display the mysterious man put on as he fought the hungry giant.

    Every swing of his elaborate sword cut another furrow in the monster¡¯s grayish-pink skin, each cut bleeding with thick, off-red blood that ran slowly, like molasses. The giant¡¯s own attacks were sluggish in comparison, and never seemed to get close to the man. In fact, more often than not, they just gave him another chance to punish the horrifying monster.

    Cadence only knew of one person in the region who was higher level than her mother¨Ca woman a few villages away who had visited following a ferocious storm that had knocked over several homes and a barn and left a dozen people injured. She had been an Adept with the gifts of the animist, the carpenter, and the rancher. She had the energy of vague power that was supposed to be unique to higher leveled people, but her gifts had been meant to help people, not to hurt them.

    The man who had saved her lacked the same feeling of almost humming magic that had hung around that Adept, but there was no doubt he was as far beyond Ryme as Ryme was above Cadence, and his gifts were clearly specialized into this sort of combat. Was he a sentinel from Elliven? The bastion-city was weeks away from Felisen, but where else could he have come from?

    Still, even his amazing speed and skill had limits. Either that, or he had underestimated the ogre. The man dodged a clumsy swipe and took a risk on an overhead chop that looked like it could cleave completely through the giant¡¯s arm, only to realize at the last moment that the ogre had feinted. Its other fist shot through the air after he had committed to the attack and slammed straight into the swordsman, sending him flying through the air. He hit a twisted tree trunk with a whoof of expelled air, his magnificent sword flying through the air.

    Cadence let out a cry as the man fell to the ground, clearly dazed. The giant gave a grunt and chuckled, the sound only made more sinister by the ominous woods, then lowered his head and rumbled forward in a charge at the fallen stranger. The massive figure was hunched forward, beady eyes focused hungrily on the fallen man, and had no chance to see the sudden movement of the rope from the opening moments of the fight when it suddenly moved once more. This time, the enchanted line didn¡¯t go for an arm. It wrapped itself around the monster¡¯s thick neck three times before tying itself off in a noose large enough for even the corpulent monstrosity.

    The monster had too much momentum to stop its charge, and the rope immediately reached its limit. It stretched with a quivering tension, but proved to be as implausibly durable as before. The darkened grove echoed with a pair of loud cracks¨Cone as the giant¡¯s own momentum snapped its neck, and another as the tree the rope was anchored to finally gave out. Cadence looked on, stunned, as half of the tree fell onto the already dying giant, crushing even its massive bulk to the ground.

    The falling tree broke the imposing ceiling of entangled foliage overhead, and a shaft of startlingly bright sunlight shined down on the tableau of the fallen giant. It let Cadence see with perfect clarity as the man staggered to his feet, and she could swear his eyes were a deep yellow now. He surveyed the giant, then made a pair of sharp gestures. The first made the rope untie itself from the giant¡¯s neck, and Cadence was horrified to see the monster still moving weakly as the rope slid away like an oversized snake to curl up at the man¡¯s side. What would it take to kill the thing?

    The second motion answered Cadence¡¯s unspoken question with a pillar of brilliant lightning. It crashed into the ogre out of nowhere, shattering the canopy overhead with a booming flash. The violent explosion of sound and light was finally too much for Cadence. The force of it threw her back in a tumble, and everything went black.

 Chapter 4 - Cadence

    Intriguing¡­

    Who was that talking? Was it the man who had saved her?

    No¡­ no, it was different. More androgynous, harder to quite place the gender or age of the speaker. The voice was more¡­ more like Cadence¡¯s, really.

    You shouldn¡¯t have been there, you know.

    Been where? The barrens?

    A flash of the monster that had chased her, half-remembered in the haze she found herself in.

    Yeah. She definitely shouldn¡¯t have been there.

    You¡¯re lucky he showed up in time¡­ well. Maybe you are. It¡¯s hard to say with him these days. He¡¯s not as reliable as he once was.

    The man. The stranger. The brilliant warrior. Joking, laughing, shrugging off every blow even as he fought the ogre. He was¡­ amazing. Like a storybook hero. Like¡­ like¡­

    An adventurer? Interesting. And you don''t know how right you really are.

    The adventurer hadn¡¯t been like the one in the stories though. He had been plain, almost ragged, not charming and attractive.

    Yes, well, road dirt isn¡¯t everyone¡¯s favorite make-up, now is it? But it just might be yours.

    A memory more of sensation than sight. The smell of the night air around her, the crunch of dirt under her feet, the chorus of a thousand tiny sounds, making something greater than their sum.

    Road dirt indeed. I¡¯ve seen few as wanderborn as you.

    Wandering blindly, seeing the sights. The endless jagged teeth of the Divide. The sparkling blue waves of the Vast. The reefs off Westerlen and the luminous caverns under Terast. The burgeoning industry of Correntry and the ancient splendor of Arsilet.

    Cadence wanted to see it all.

    An earnest plea if I¡¯ve ever heard one. Very well¡­ I suppose I can help push you along.

    Good luck, Cadence.

    #

    Cadence awoke with a start, blinking against the stinging sunlight in her eyes.

    Suddenly everything that had happened came rushing back to her, and she sat up in a panic, her heart racing a mile a minute as she wildly looked around.

    She was sitting in a patch of sunlight, her back rested against a large boulder. Next to her was the man who had come to her rescue, calmly eyeing her while chewing on an apple. There was no sign of the darkened barrens or the oppressive, twisted trees or the monster that had chased her through the lightless stretch of woods.

    ¡°W-where is it?¡± Cadence asked, turning to the odd man.

    He calmly took another bite, juices running down his chin and hand. His free hand waved absently at the fallen tree. ¡°It¡¯s gone now.¡±

    Cadence furrowed her brows. Gone? Gone where?

    Before she could press him for details, the man asked, ¡°You were talking in your sleep. Any interesting dreams?¡±

    Cadence arched a brow at the odd question. Had she dreamed about something?

    She tried to remember, and it almost seemed like¡­ but no. No dreams worth recalling, apparently. Just the disjointed confusion of passing out after hitting her head, same as when she fell out of the tree in Old Man Callahan¡¯s yard trying to impress Brian.

    ¡°No,¡± she told the man. Then something occurred to her, and her eyes narrowed. ¡°Is that my apple?¡±

    The man stared at her mildly as he finished eating. His dark brown eyes (hadn¡¯t they been yellow before? Or was it blue?) carried a level of amusement in them completely at odds with the innocent expression on his face. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind, but I found the apple while I was rifling through your pack for something to heal you with, and our big friend reminded me that a snack did, in fact, sound good.¡±

    Cadence looked around more carefully for a moment before she found her pack, lying on the ground a few feet away, next to her hatchet and quiver of useless arrows. Her tools to defend herself. Not that they had done any good. ¡°Wait¡­¡± She asked, turning back to the man. ¡°Heal me?¡±

    Stolen story; please report.

    The man frowned, and looked at the ground. The sheepish motion made him look very different from the commanding figure that had stared down the ogre without a moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°Yes. I needed to finish it off before it got back up, but I didn¡¯t think of how close you were. Some of the splinters from the tree tore you up a little bit.¡± He gestured a vague hand at Cadence, and she looked to find that he was right. Her pants and shirt had gained a few more significant tears, and even the side of her leather vest had been carved open to display the bare skin of her ribs.

    Cadence frowned, looking herself over, but besides the cosmetic damage to her clothes. ¡°The glintcaps?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Mmm.¡±

    Cadence narrowed her eyes. She knew that there was no way the glintcaps could¡¯ve fully healed all of the damage she had apparently taken.

    Before she could ask any further questions about it though, the man pushed himself to his feet. The motion was oddly fluid, and Cadence blinked for a moment, thinking her eyes had played a trick on her. She heard that could happen to someone who took a blow to the head. But no, it was simply how he moved, a combination of economy of motion and superhuman coordination, the same traits she had observed during his fight.

    Cadence asked the question she had been wondering since she first saw the man. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Storyteller,¡± he said simply. Apparently feeling no further need to explain himself, he shaded his eyes and looked up at the sky. Already, the bright blue sky was fading to a brilliant orange as the sun made its way to the horizon. ¡°You¡¯re from¡­ Felisen? That''s the closest village, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Cadence replied, more curious than ever about where he had come from, if he wasn¡¯t even sure of that. ¡°I¡¯m Cadence.¡±

    ¡°Are you feeling up to walking now? I suspect we won¡¯t reach your village before nightfall, but the hunters there have no doubt noticed your absence by now and will be likely searching for you. ¡°

    The very idea of her mother¡¯s anger had Cadence jumping to her feet. Of course, she immediately realized just how bad of an idea that was and braced herself for a wave of nausea. But¡­ none came.

    Whatever this ¡°Storyteller¡± had done to heal her, it had worked even better than glintcaps. She squinted as she looked at the increasingly enigmatic man, but she found herself trusting him anyway.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she finally responded. ¡°I can walk. Let me grab my bag.¡±

    #

    The pair made good time, and before long, they were walking along the same paths through the vernal forest that Cadence had taken to get to the barrens. Only then did Cadence realize that she was following Storyteller rather than the other way around.

    ¡°Hey.¡± After nearly an hour walking in silence, her voice sounded loud in her own ears. Storyteller turned an inquisitive look over his shoulder in reply. ¡°How do you know where you¡¯re going? I¡¯ve never seen you around here before.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a gift,¡± he said simply, his steps never slowing.

    Cadence narrowed her eyes at the curt answer. Fine. If that was how he wanted it, she could play the quiet game too.

    Cadence continued following him in silence, her eyes taking in the woods as she walked. As beautiful as ever, the setting sun and the beautiful colors of twilight only made the forest more enchanting. She only paused once, as she recognized a familiar series of scuffs in the dirt and underbrush. Her little fight with the bramble-spawn seemed so¡­ inconsequential after the monster of the barrens. The ogre, as Storyteller had called it. Whatever that meant.

    She almost opened her mouth to ask, then remembered his last answer and forced herself to close it. Biting down on her questions felt unnatural, but she didn¡¯t want to give the mysterious man the satisfaction of another half-answer.

    As they walked, Cadence began to notice the looks Storyteller was giving her over his shoulder. It was weird¨Che seemed curious more than anything else. That curiosity grew over the miles into true puzzlement. Twilight was well on its way to full darkness when they reached the little brook where Cadence had taken lunch.

    ¡°How are you okay?¡± he finally asked bluntly.

    Cadence pulled up short, and blinked in confusion at the question. ¡°Uhm¡­ what?¡±

    ¡°How are you okay?¡± he repeated, looking her over. His eyes had narrowed suspiciously. ¡°We¡¯ve come, what, eight miles? With a few to go? So you¡¯ve walked probably close to twenty miles today, in addition to your sprint to get away from the ogre before I could get to you. And then, on top of all that, you were knocked out. Yet you¡¯re keeping up with my pace.¡±

    Cadence¡¯s brows slowly knitted together, and she cast a look back up the trail. Had she really come that far? She was only pretty sure he was right on the distances, but he was definitely right that she had been fast walking this whole time to keep up with the taller man¡¯s brisk pace¨Cyet she wasn¡¯t even winded. In fact, she felt as good as she had when she set out that morning. How was that possible?

    A look of shocked realization crossed his face, and he asked in a careful, quiet voice, ¡°Cadence¡­ Which way is north?¡±

    Cadence instantly pointed to her side. She even turned her body a little bit, to make sure her arm was pointed just right.

    ¡°How did you know that?¡± he asked in that same cautious tone.

    Cadence opened her mouth to reply sarcastically. The sun was setting to her right, it wasn¡¯t exactly hard to find north. But¡­ she hadn¡¯t even thought about the sun. She had just known, without even thinking about it. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± she finally answered.

    Storyteller looked more closely at Cadence, and she suddenly realized his full attention was focused on her for the first time. Previously, he had seemed almost perpetually distracted, his eyes endlessly roaming about. Even when he had fought the ogre, he hadn¡¯t seemed this intense. They didn¡¯t seem very muddy or unremarkable anymore, either. They were a warm, comforting brown, like the drinking chocolate her mother would make once or twice a winter, after a long hunt.

    ¡°Cadence.¡± His voice was as soft as ever, but it seemed to make the air shiver in an odd way, as if trembling with some unseen tension. ¡°Check your attributes.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s easy. Just concentrate. Think about wanting to see your attributes.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¨Coh.¡± Cadence trailed off as even considering the request caused words to simply appear, as if they were floating in the air in front of her.

    Cadence of Felisen

    Level: Pre-Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Wanderer]: +3 to stamina and awareness

    Attributes:

    Strength: 4

    Resilience: 4

    Stamina: 9 (6+3)

    Coordination: 6

    Speed: 5

    Will: 5

    Knowledge: 4

    Focus: 4

    Awareness: 9 (6+3)

    Charm: 5

    Somehow, Cadence had received her first gift. She opened her mouth, and of course, that was when she heard her mother¡¯s voice, calling her name in the distance.

 Chapter 5 - Oliver

    Existing since before the Realm had been founded, the great bastion cities had been established for the singular purpose of combating the endless tide of outsiders that spawned in the various Wastes. In the earliest history of the Realm, that meant housing the facilities needed to support a large number of high level battle-gifted engaging in constant combat.

    Aside from Arsilet, the capital of the Realm, the early bastion cities had more in common with permanent military encampments than residential villages, packed with the artisans, healers, mages, quartermasters, and bureaucrats needed to provide for the predecessors to the modern day sentinels.

    Even then, space around the Wastes had been too operationally valuable and potentially vulnerable to be viable for the cultivation of food. Farming and ranching villages were instead founded farther from the Wastes to provide for the needs of the fledgling cities. These small settlements, in the fertile lands of the southern Realm, would become the earliest roots of the heartlands.

    Over time, the once sparse, functional cities began to evolve. People needed more than bare essentials to survive and to thrive in the face of constant conflict, and canny business people were eager to meet those needs. Taverns, breweries, game halls, brothels, and even theaters began to crowd in around the edges of the established encampments. Then, in recognition of their service, the third King in Arsilet established the first order of sentinels and made their pay a responsibility of the Realm. In the mineral-rich northern hills, mining villages were established to produce the metals to both outfit and pay the newly-named order¨Cthe foundations of what would come to be known as the frontier.

    As sentinels found themselves rewarded for their bravery, luxury stores run by jewelers, goldsmiths, weavers, and other fine artisans opened throughout the bastion cities. The most successful of those who fought in the Wastes soon had the wealth and power to buy or build their families lavish, comfortable homes. Soon thereafter, skilled fighters began to retire from the Wastes to instead train the next generation of young sentinels. The endless fight in the Wastes became not just a responsibility, but an obligation¨Cone rewarded with both wealth and privilege. The Realm¡¯s nobility would forever after be intertwined with the duties of the sentinels.

    Despite the many changes the generations brought to the bastion cities, the Wastes and their dangerous residents remained at the center of their purpose. It was decided early on by the Crown and the Dukes that the political games inevitable to the nobility would be allowed, so long as there were always sentinels standing guard against the outsiders that threatened the Realm. A noble family could only increase, or even retain, their standing so long as they produced just as many skilled fighters as charismatic courtiers.

    It was amongst these conflicting expectations that Oliver Dennan had been born and raised.

    #

    Oliver frowned as he paced through the halls of the arena. His stance bordered on belligerent, his body language practically simmering with the violence he was desperate to unleash on someone. Given that he would be presented in front of the assembled court and put his family¡¯s name, as well as his own reputation, on the line, ¡°aggressive¡± would usually be the ideal mindset. But in this particular duel, it would hinder more than help him.

    This wasn¡¯t just a duel for honor or reputation, it was a trial duel, undertaken in the hopes of earning a gift from the Warrior. Only calm focus and clarity of mind would earn him the gift of the fencer.

    Of course, especially for a sixteen year old, calming down wasn¡¯t as simple as just noting that his anger was counterproductive. In fact, the struggle to do so just made him more frustrated. Almost as much as the taunting voice that spoke up behind him.

    ¡°What¡¯s with that face, Dennan?¡±

    Oliver spun around. ¡°Shut up, Allid!¡± He turned his hottest glare on the other boy, but Allid¡¯s cocky smirk was unphased.

    The two boys were more similar, physically, than either wanted to admit. Both stood a few inches over six feet; both wore carefully tailored outfits that highlighted the careful fitness regimens that had shaped both of their bodies; both had the well defined, angular features of high nobility. However, Allid¡¯s dignified composure, even while taunting his frequent rival, contrasted noticeably with Oliver¡¯s brooding demeanor. Allid was the first-born child of the wealthy Gerrot family, and he wore the arrogance of that position like a mantle.

    Though they wore similar outfits, Allid wore the fine clothes like a second skin, perfectly comfortable, while Oliver couldn¡¯t help but feel uncomfortable and awkward in them. He longed for the looser-fitting practice clothes he normally wore when working on his sword techniques, but such simple garb wouldn¡¯t do for his trial duel. They had both grown their hair out slightly, as was the style, but where Allid¡¯s Arsiletian gold locks fell in perfectly parted ringlets that served to emphasize his fine features, Oliver¡¯s brown hair was perpetually messy, despite the time he spent trying to tame it.

    As the heir of the Gerrot family, there was every chance that Allid would one day rule Elliven. While there had yet to be a Duke crowned since Elliven¡¯s founding, Allid¡¯s father was already Expert level and one of the dominant forces in the city¡¯s politics. Once he reached Master, he was likely to finally seize the title, making Allid his successor.

    Oliver, meanwhile, was merely the third-born of the far lower-ranked Dennan line. His family was inarguably noble, but it had nothing like the wealth or power boasted by the Gerrots. Oliver¡¯s own father was an Initiate, but he had never distinguished himself in his brief time as a sentinel, and now he had reached his limit. He would never advance to Adept without a high-level artisan to enhance his own ensouled item.

    They may have both been nobles, but that only meant anything to those who stood outside the cutthroat politics of the High Court of Elliven. In bearing, wealth, and rank, Allid was as far above Oliver as the stars, and they both knew it.

    Not that Oliver had ever held his tongue because of it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have some sycophants to go lord over?¡± Oliver spat at the boy he would soon be dueling. ¡°I¡¯m trying to get ready.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I can see that,¡± Allid teased. The other boy¡¯s hand strayed down to his belt, where a fabulous brass rapier sat ready. It was just one more reminder of the differences between them. Even at his best, Oliver had little chance at winning the coming duel, but Allid¡¯s ensouled weapon had turned ¡°little chance¡± into ¡°no chance.¡±

    ¡°Keep brooding, Oliver. Get yourself all riled up. It¡¯ll make this that much easier for me.¡±

    Apparently deciding he had done enough, the arrogant boy pushed off of the wall and walked away without so much as a look back. Oliver glared daggers at Allid anyways until he turned a corner, then he practically deflated.

    With his father having reached his limits, House Dennan¡¯s only chance at improving its place in the court was through Oliver and his siblings. His eldest sister was already out in the Wastes more often than not, working with a sentinel cadre to raise the strength of her own gifts, while his brother had established himself as an artificer of no small skill. While they were climbing in levels and prestige, however, the Dennan family needed someone to navigate the turbulent political waters of the Court itself. To indulge in such frivolous activities as balls and honor duels. By process of elimination, that duty fell to Oliver.

    No matter how poorly suited he was for it.

    That was how he ended up forced to spend his time with self-obsessed idiots like Allid, and why he was expected to go out and win a duel with the useless twig of steel at his side. While Oliver needed to earn the respect of the Warrior, it wasn¡¯t proper for a dashing young courtier to have a crude gift like the brawler, or even the guardian. No, he was supposed to get the gift of the fencer, a suitably subtle and distinguished fighting style for a court noble, and one that would aid him in earning the gift of the duelist from the Noble archetype at Initiate.

    Of course, even that mediocre fate required him to make a good showing at his trial duel. The Warrior offered its blessings to any who could prove their skill in a trial duel before a recognized armsmaster. The archetype didn¡¯t even demand victory, just a show of combat ability through which it could provide an appropriately aligned gift. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that Oliver could manage even that with Allid armed as he was. It was no secret that the Gerrot family had bought their scion an ensouled rapier, and that he had gained the gift of agility from it. It was a perfect complement to the gift of the fencer, a pairing that would make Allid all but untouchable on the dueling floor.

    Oliver had no such advantage. Certainly, his father would never allow him a relic that would limit his advancement the way his own had. It only proved Lysander Gerrot¡¯s confidence in his coffers and connections that he would risk giving his eldest scion such a weapon. But to not even let him go to a Primal Hall? Oliver could¡¯ve at least completed one of the survival challenges to get an elemental gift. But no. His father insisted that getting his gift from the Warrior first was proper, that leaning too hard on another gift might keep him from showcasing the skill necessary to be recognized by the Warrior.

    His sister had completed her trial without a second gift, but Alyssia had received the gift of the skirmisher. Her trial had been in a complex arena, designed to facilitate a dynamic fight where each competitor could showcase their stealth and mobility. Even then, she hadn¡¯t won, but she had plenty of time to make the sort of showing necessary to win her a gift. Allid¡¯s taunting had made his goal clear. He intended to use the gift from his ensouled weapon to defeat Oliver before he could even fight back. Oliver would need to wait another year for a chance at a trial duel, and even if he succeeded then, his reputation in the Court would likely never recover.

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    The first bell sounded, and Oliver jumped in place. He was due in the ring in just five minutes, and he would likely be back in this hallway just minutes after that, burdened with the kind of shame he would never live down. This was it. This was the beginning, and the end, of the rest of his life.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± The voice was so gentle, and cautious, that even the upset Oliver couldn¡¯t bring himself to bristle at the question. He turned slowly to see a woman he didn¡¯t recognize.

    She was more fair-skinned than Oliver, and her hair was a brilliant shade of blonde, like spun gold, worn long, so that it reached halfway down her back. Her face was more cute than beautiful, with a soft chin and rounded cheekbones, but a prominent bump on her nose spoke of an old break that contrasted with her almost delicate appearance. She wore a simple white dress belted with a silver sash, but Oliver could see the definition in her limbs. She was a fighter of some kind.

    And besides that, she was quite simply gorgeous.

    Oliver instantly flushed an incandescent red at her attention. ¡°Oh! Um, yes, I¡¯m sorry, I¡­ I mean¡­ uhm¡­¡± Oliver abruptly realized he didn¡¯t even know what he was apologizing for. It wasn¡¯t like he was doing anything wrong. She had approached him!

    The woman gave him a reassuring smile, and her eyes slid from him to the nearby door. ¡°You¡¯re about to have your trial duel, right? And clearly you¡¯re no Gerrot, which would make you¡­ Dennan?¡±

    Oliver blinked in surprise. ¡°Uhm¡­ yes. Oliver, actually. Oliver Dennan, I mean.¡± He trailed off before asking, ¡°How did you¡­¡±

    ¡°I try to keep an eye on the trial duels. See if there are any bright stars worth catching.¡± The woman frowned thoughtfully. ¡°So you¡¯re going up against the Gerrot boy, Alan or whatever it was?¡±

    Oliver smiled. Whoever this woman was, he was liking her more by the second. ¡°Allid, yes.¡±

    Her lips parted in a wordless acknowledgement of the correction. ¡°Ah. I think I understand your consternation then. You expect him to embarrass you with that gaudy brass toy his parents bought him, yes?¡±

    Oliver frowned, the reminder of his situation threatening to send him plummeting back down into his brooding torpor. ¡°Basically, yes,¡± he admitted.

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Nobles. Can¡¯t even trust their pup enough to send him off to a trial duel without buying him a gift.¡±

    Oliver smiled slightly at her tone, but he felt compelled to add, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t stand much of a chance even if he didn¡¯t have that gift. I¡¯ve never been much of a fencer.¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyes slid back to him. Oliver hadn¡¯t noticed their shade before¨Cthey were an odd metallic gray, almost silvery in the dim light of the hall. Her gaze was intense enough that he had to suppress a little shudder, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to look away from her.

    When she finally spoke, she sounded oddly amused. ¡°That is exactly what I wanted to hear.¡±

    #

    When Oliver strode through the doors into the dueling ring a couple minutes later, he looked like a whole different person. He felt like a whole different person. The angsty boy from the hall was nowhere to be seen. With his frustration cleared away, his etiquette training took over, and Oliver greeted the assembled noble witnesses, the armsmaster, and his opponent with a smooth, confident bow. In one hand, he carried the reason for his confidence¨Ca longsword of shimmering steel that seemed to catch the light around it no matter how it was held.

    Allid¡¯s eyes went wide at the sight of it, then narrowed suspiciously. In the stands assembled to either side of the straight, narrow dueling strip, Oliver heard mutters of surprise. This had been agreed to be a match between two hopefuls for the gift of the fencer, but Oliver was making a show of carrying a sword noticeably broader and heavier than the rapier he was supposed to be armed with.

    ¡°Allid! I hope you don¡¯t mind a small change of plans,¡± Oliver called brightly to his confused opponent. He very purposefully didn¡¯t look at the stands. He could imagine the look of his father¡¯s anger well enough. ¡°You and I both know I wouldn¡¯t stand much chance against you with a rapier, unfortunately. Why, that fight might¡¯ve been over before you could even prove your ability to the Warrior! I¡¯ve always been better with a longsword, so I thought it was just the thing to make for a more interesting match.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s words were delivered with the perfect amount of self-effacing humility, as if his change in arms was a simple favor for his opponent. Oliver might not have loved being a courtier, but that didn¡¯t mean he had simply ignored the political lessons of a lifetime. His phrasing left Allid no choice but to graciously allow the change in weapons. To do anything else would be to undercut his own abilities.

    The surprised boy looked to the stands, clearly seeking direction from his own father. Oliver continued to resist the urge to do the same, refusing to look even to see Lord Gerrot¡¯s reaction. Whatever it was, it couldn¡¯t have been ideal, as Allid looked sharply back at Oliver and spat, ¡°Fine then. Arm yourself however you want. It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    Oliver grinned at the lack of graciousness in Allid¡¯s response. He had retained his own composure while shaking his opponent¡¯s, the exact reverse of their exchange in the hallway earlier. Allid had embarrassed him in private, however, while Oliver had scored his point in front of some of the highest members of the Court, including Allid¡¯s own father. It was a minor victory, maybe, but a win was a win.

    Allid brandished his own weapon, the brass rapier¡¯s finely honed tip shining. Oliver raised his own sword in a matching salute, holding the blade parallel to the ground and pointing it straight at his opponent. The longsword was significantly heavier than Allid¡¯s slender blade, but the other boy already had an irreconcilable advantage in speed. Oliver had trained with all the classical weapons before his father had decided his path for him, and while he didn¡¯t have as much experience with the longsword as the rapier, he also knew Allid hadn¡¯t practiced anything other than fencing.

    The armsmaster looked between the two of them with a frown, clearly not liking what he was seeing¨Cbut the trial of the Warrior didn¡¯t demand any specific weapon. It was only court politics that expected both combatants to fight in the same way, and Oliver suddenly found himself unwilling to entertain traditions that would¡¯ve left him beaten and humiliated for the sake of elevating a boy who already had every advantage. The armsmaster had no right to stop the match. Instead, he simply held out a red cloth, and deliberately dropped it without a word.

    The cloth hadn¡¯t even touched the ground before Allid had dashed forward. His speed, already boosted by his gift of agility, had clearly been further enhanced by some sort of special attack. The highborn boy all but flew at Oliver, his rapier poised to slip past his opponent''s sword and end the duel in a single move. If he had been wielding a rapier, Oliver would¡¯ve been helpless against such a blindingly fast attack. The dueling strip didn¡¯t give him enough room to dodge, and he could never have gotten off a clean parry against such speed. Fortunately, Oliver¡¯s new weapon provided an answer to the attack.

    The sword the mysterious woman had given Oliver wasn¡¯t an ensouled weapon, one of those precious weapons imbued with sufficient magic to grant a gift. Rather, it was a runeblade, a product of clever artificing and skilled crafting. Allid was fast, but he had ten feet to cross to reach Oliver. All Oliver had to do was move his thumb a couple inches, to tap the rune carved in the base of the longsword. Allid¡¯s dash attack had projected him forward in a straight line, and Oliver¡¯s salute had pointed his sword straight at Allid as the duel started. He didn¡¯t even need to adjust his aim.

    The moment he triggered the rune, a wave of near-invisible force ripped from the tip of his sword. It didn¡¯t quite catch the other boy head on, but it did clip him on his left side. With the speed and force involved, his graceful dash turned into a clumsy sprawl so quickly that even his enhanced speed couldn¡¯t save him. Oliver was moving even as Allid got to one knee, trying to end the duel as quickly as his opponent had planned to. Unfortunately, even at Novice level, the other boy¡¯s gift was an advantage no simple artificer¡¯s trick could fully compensate for.

    Allid¡¯s rapier flashed up from waist level and caught Oliver''s sword in a neat parry that turned into a riposte with liquid smoothness. Oliver was ready for it and stepped back to dodge the counter, but that only allowed Allid the chance to get his feet underneath himself once more. Oliver frowned. The force rune was a one-time trick, and if Allid had the chance to seize the initiative again, he would end the duel just as easily as he had planned to in the first place.

    Without hesitation, Oliver stepped in with another brutal cut, then another, milking every advantage out of having the heavier blade. Allid¡¯s rapier was a fine example of its kind, but the light, slender sword simply wasn¡¯t up to trading blows with a longsword. He had to parry using the very base of his slender blade, the thickest part of the rapier, which prevented him from managing any effective ripostes or maneuvering his weapon to a more advantageous angle.

    The two boys danced back and forth for half a minute, but with every second, Oliver could feel his advantage slipping away. Without space to use that dash attack, Allid¡¯s gift couldn¡¯t end the duel in a single moment, but the boon it gave to his speed attribute was slowly beginning to tilt the odds back in the arrogant boy¡¯s favor. Neither had the breath to banter or taunt each other now. Oliver was under no illusion that he would last more than a few seconds once Allid took the offensive, and even as he fought, he searched desperately for another advantage.

    The best he could come up with was a frantic trick. On his next strike, instead of swinging his sword down as he had been, Oliver took a step back and lowered his sword, as if he was going to attempt a stab. Allid began to move his blade into a guard position, a smirk crawling up his face. A straight thrust was the perfect attack for him to parry and would open Oliver up to a duel-ending counter. Which was why, rather than stabbing at the other boy, Oliver tapped his thumb against the rune at the base of the blade.

    Allid yelped in surprise and fully disengaged, dancing a few steps back and bracing for the expected wave of force. But as the woman had explained when she gave Oliver the sword, the force rune required a lot of charging to work properly, and the energy generated by their blades clashing had only produced enough for a feeble flicker of energy, barely enough to flutter Allid¡¯s clothes.

    But the feint had put Allid¡¯s blade out of line for a proper parry. His entire stance had been ruined when he braced for the force attack, and he was unable to adjust in time as Oliver actually did thrust forward. It was as perfectly executed as any such thrust he could¡¯ve managed with a rapier, putting the full weight of his body behind the tip of his longsword. Still, Allid¡¯s speed showed its value. Though he couldn¡¯t block the attack, the other boy managed to step to one side, so that Oliver¡¯s blade left a long, bright cut along his ribs.

    Despite his dodge, Allid no longer looked like the dignified and composed one between the two of them. His fine features twisted in a snarl of rage, and he twisted his sword in a sudden sinuous movement Oliver had trouble following. However he had done it, the maneuver sent a pain shooting through Oliver¡¯s hand and sent his runeblade spinning through the air. Allid¡¯s arrogant grin returned to his face¨Cjust as Oliver¡¯s now free hand swung up and took the Gerrot scion under the jaw.

    That was finally enough for the armsmaster. Even as the shimmering runeblade clattered to the ground, the man sprung between them with Initiate level speed and forced them apart¨Conly for each boy to suddenly go stock still as they were struck by the same sensation.

    For Oliver, it was like the world had gone still as the words appeared in front of him.

    The Warrior has recognized your courage and tenacity, and has offered you the [Gift of the Vanguard].

    Do you accept?

    Yes / No

    Once accepted, gifts can never be relinquished.

    Novice gifts: 0/2

    Oliver grinned despite the pain in his hand. ¡°Yes.¡±

 Chapter 6 - Oliver

    ¡°What exactly did you think you were doing with that display!?¡±

    After his surprising success in the trial duel, and the offer of his first gift, Oliver had been in high spirits. He had hoped to find the woman who had given him the runeblade, to return the gift and to thank her for her help, but his father found him first. Oliver had quickly found himself hustled into a small side chamber, his outraged father between him and the door, and he didn¡¯t feel quite so pleased with himself anymore. He hadn¡¯t even had the chance to recover the marvelous longsword.

    ¡°It was that or defeat, father,¡± Oliver insisted. He kept his eyes downcast and his words carefully toneless.

    ¡°And you think that makes it okay, boy? The fight doesn¡¯t match your strengths, so you just go and change the rules?¡±

    Arthur Dennan had little in common with his son, physically or mentally. He had the lighter skin tone common in Terast, having journeyed to Elliven decades before in an attempt to establish himself. Oliver''s own skin was a couple shades darker, thanks to his mother¡¯s Westerlen blood. Arthur¡¯s hair had once been a deep black, but age and stress had overcome the influence of his Initiate level, leaving it shot through with white. Still, his graying hair was much darker than Oliver¡¯s rich brunette. As always, Arthur wore a simple steel rapier at his right side and an ostentatious silver ring, his own ensouled item, on his left hand.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to come out well from the duel in any case, Father. I¡¯d rather the reputation of a rebel than that of a loser,¡± Oliver replied, unable to keep a faint hint of resentment out of his tone.

    ¡°You dare bring up reputation? You were supposed to be the courtier of the family, boy! After this thorough embarrassment, we¡¯ll be lucky to get you into any social circles. What gift did you even get from that foolishness, the brawler?¡± Arthur spat the last word, making clear his opinion of the most recklessly aggressive of the Warrior¡¯s gifts.

    ¡°The vanguard,¡± Oliver replied, his voice a little stronger this time. He had only just received his first gift, but already, he could feel it emblazoned on his soul, and it felt right. Comfortable. Correct, in the same way that his preparations to earn the blessing of the fencer had always felt wrong. He wished he could see the brand too, as he felt it on his upper arm, but now wasn¡¯t the time to roll up his tunic sleeve.

    ¡°The vanguard, of course. I might as well just throw you into the city guard. At least there you¡¯d do some good.¡± Arthur paused, as if considering his own words for a moment, then shook his head dismissively. ¡°No, not that. Maybe¡­ where did you get that runeblade anyways?¡±

    Oliver flushed at the question. It was a splash of cold water on the slowly building fire in his chest. ¡°It was a gift.¡±

    ¡°Well aren¡¯t you getting all sorts of inappropriate gifts today?¡± Arthur jeered. ¡°Who, then, gifted you a piece of artifice worth more than you are?¡±

    ¡°That would be me.¡± The door behind Arthur opened briefly to admit the woman Oliver had met earlier. In her hands, she carried the shimmering runeblade he had left on the dueling strip when he slipped away. ¡°Pardon my intrusion.¡±

    Oliver looked up in surprise¨Cher words were polite, but they were not a request. They were a command, spoken with the complete confidence that his father would comply.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Arthur insisted, his rage making him ignorant to the woman¡¯s confident demeanor. ¡°And who are you, encouraging my son to be so reckless?¡±

    The woman slowly turned to look at Arthur. Her eyes slid over him, as if only now fully noticing him for the first time. After a moment, her nose wrinkled in a hint of disgust. ¡°You dare to speak of recklessness, Arthur Dennan?¡± she asked. The gentle encouragement she had spoken to Oliver with earlier was nowhere to be seen now. She barely bothered to conceal her loathing. ¡°You, who sold out your own son to impress the Gerrots?¡±

    Arthur¡¯s face went noticeably pale, and Oliver looked sharply between the two. Sold him out? She couldn¡¯t mean¡­

    Yet his father stayed quiet. Too quiet. Arthur Dennan never knew how to shut up, and certainly wouldn¡¯t in the face of such a stinging accusation. Yet now he didn¡¯t respond, color building in his cheeks even if he didn¡¯t have the decency to look at all abashed.

    Oliver was speechless. It was true, wasn¡¯t it?

    The woman flashed Oliver a brief, sympathetic look. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to tell you this, Oliver. Your father had the clever idea to ingratiate himself with the frontrunner for the Duke¡¯s seat by ensuring that his young scion would have an easy victory in his trial.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s eyes slowly narrowed. He didn¡¯t want to believe that his father would do something like that, but¡­ But he knew his father. All too well. Suddenly, so much made sense, puzzling pieces of his father¡¯s behavior fitting together around what this mysterious woman said.

    ¡°That¡¯s why you wouldn¡¯t let me visit the Primal Halls,¡± Oliver said softly. His words came slowly as he tried to fully understand how thoroughly his own father had betrayed him. ¡°Denying me a relic made sense, considering your own shortcomings, but to even deny me a Primal gift?¡±

    This was how he had always longed to speak to his father, and now that he had started, Oliver found he couldn¡¯t quite stop himself. ¡°You wanted me to be as powerless as possible. All so the Gerrot¡¯s would¡­ what? What did they offer you, father? A title? Money? No, not even that. Too traceable, right? Just favors, more favors. What, some patronage for Olan? A good cadre for Alyssia? Or just a promise for their good will in the Court?¡±

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    Arthur¡¯s face flushed. He may be lesser nobility in the youngest of the Bastion Cities, but he was still unused to being spoken to so bluntly, much less by his own son.

    He spun on the mysterious woman instead of answering Oliver¡¯s question. ¡°How DARE you? I demand your name, madam, and I demand sati-¡±

    ¡°Do not finish that sentence.¡± Her voice was a whip crack. ¡°You won¡¯t live to regret it.¡±

    Arthur¡¯s mouth moved soundlessly for a moment. The woman let him flounder for a long moment before she finally answered his question.

    ¡°I am Adeline Argent, Knight-Gallant of the Argent Order. And despite your reputation, Arthur Dennan, I know even you are not so foolish as to think you can triumph over me in a duel.¡±

    Oliver was pretty sure his father didn¡¯t even notice the insult implied by those words. The older man was far too busy trying to figure out how to backpedal, his eyes darting around and mouth moving soundlessly. Oliver was also stunned, but at this point, he was so deep in some kind of emotional shock that he felt numb even to the revelation of his benefactor¡¯s identity.

    The Argent Order. Everyone knew of them. Each of the Bastion Cities boasted a knightly order of some kind, each consisting of the most talented, skilled, or promising gifted sentinels in each city. They were sworn to the service of each Duke directly, and charged with handling the most dangerous of outsider incursions. In Elliven, it was the Emerald Order who served that role, though they were the youngest and smallest of the knightly orders.

    The Argent Order was different from the rest of them, though. The silver knights were sworn to none of the great bastion cities, nor even the King. Instead, they pledged their loyalty to the Realm itself, roaming the vast lands between each of the Bastions and their respective Wastes, purging the rare monsters or outsiders that endangered the smaller villages that dotted the heartlands and the frontier.

    Oliver had grown up hearing stories of the exploits of the Argent Order and their Knights-Errant and Gallant, like storybook adventurers come to life. As he grew older, though, he had begun to see the order differently. Their numbers were few for their supposed duty, and they were the targets of near constant ridicule by the nobility.

    To the aristocracy, the greatest honor was to patrol the Wastes and combat the constant outsiders that crossed over from the Dark Worlds. In swearing themselves to the Argent Order, the knights in silver had forsaken that duty for one comparably safer and easier. However, despite the supposed shame, Oliver had noticed that those admonitions of irresponsibility and ridicule were never spoken within earshot of the silver knights themselves.

    Adeline eyed Arthur for a minute, as if daring the man to continue his foolish challenge. He broke first, his gaze flinching away from her. Arthur Dennan was many things, but he had never been much of a fighter. That was why he had ensured Alyssia would represent the Dennans in the Wastes.

    The woman, Adeline, turned back to Oliver, her body language looking as if she had dismissed Arthur from her attention. ¡°I had only sought you out to return what I had offered you,¡± she told him, holding the hilt of the shimmering silver blade out to Oliver. ¡°However, I couldn¡¯t help but overhear your father¡¯s words. I thought that poor praise for a skilled and resourceful son, myself. As such, I think I would like to take the liberty of extending you another offer. Tell me, would you be interested in joining the ranks of the Argent Order?¡±

    Oliver and Arthur gasped at the same time.

    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Oliver asked.

    ¡°You cannot do thi-¡± Arthur¡¯s claim was cut short by Adeline pointing a single finger towards him in a clear, silent rebuke. The gesture was enough to make him go quiet, gaping at the confident woman. Adeline hadn¡¯t even bothered to look at him.

    ¡°I am,¡± Adeline answered Oliver, as if his father hadn¡¯t even spoken. ¡°You showed tenacity, cleverness, and ability in your duel. My Order values those sorts of skills.¡±

    ¡°I only did as well as I did because of you, though,¡± Oliver said. ¡°Without your blade¡­¡±

    ¡°Your blade,¡± Adeline corrected him gently. ¡°Another may have relied merely on its magic, and failed when it could not win the duel for them. You used every tool at hand to overcome the obstacle before you. That is also a trait the Argent Order values.¡±

    Oliver looked from Adeline to his father. Arthur¡¯s face twisted in a pleased look at his son¡¯s clear indecision. The man clearly thought that some lingering sense of familial duty, some need to keep the Dennan name and what little prestige they still had, would keep Oliver under his thumb. Somehow, Arthur failed to comprehend that he had burned the last vestiges of love his son felt for him years before.

    The old man¡¯s spite only made the decision that much easier for Oliver. After what he had gone through today¡­ the earth would open and swallow him whole before he¡¯d crawl back to his father¡¯s plots.

    ¡°You said your name was Argent¡­ did you give your own family up when you joined the Argent Order?¡±

    Adeline nodded softly. ¡°Correct. All of the knightly orders ask that of their members. Your loyalty would be, first and foremost, to the Order and the Realm.¡±

    Oliver chewed his bottom lip. ¡°My family¡­¡±

    ¡°Will be just fine without you. They are not involved in this decision. Despite your father¡¯s reputation, your elder siblings have both done well for themselves. The Dennan line¡¯s next generation is secure.¡± Adeline met Oliver¡¯s eyes, supportive and reassuring in a way his own parents had never been.

    ¡°And¡­ would I need to swear an oath to you? Today?¡±

    ¡°I expect no oath any time soon, Oliver Dennan. You are still in training. The Order does not accept knights below Initiate rank. But we do cultivate talent when we see it, and I believe you would do well as a squire with us. With me. I would train you, give you the experience and knowledge you¡¯d need to succeed amongst our numbers.¡± Adeline smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

    She really was beautiful.

    Oliver wanted to be able to smile like that, one day. Just like that.

    Oliver didn¡¯t even give his father another look. Adeline was right. This was Oliver¡¯s decision, not his father¡¯s, not his family¡¯s. Just ten minutes before (had it really all happened that quickly?) he had been pacing in the hall, brooding and staring down the barrel of a life of mediocrity. Now he was being offered a life of adventure. A tiny piece of Oliver was suspicious of how rapidly his fortune had turned around, but a much larger chunk of him feared to investigate it too closely, lest it disappear like the mist in the morning.

    ¡°Okay. Then¡­ Yes, I¡¯m interested.¡±

    Adeline smiled, and without a spare glance for Arthur or his muted attempts at protest, she stepped to one side and waved to the door. Oliver offered his father one last look, too filled with emotion to manage any single expression.

    The man didn¡¯t meet his son¡¯s eyes. Like a petulant child, he had turned away, studying a tapestry on the wall rather than watch Oliver leave.

    So Oli turned and led the way out, taking the first steps on the rest of his life, Adeline close behind.

 Chapter 7 - Oliver

    ¡°I¡­ I can''t believe I did that,¡± Oliver said, sagging in his seat.

    Across the table from him, Adeline smiled sympathetically, and held out a cup of tea. ¡°I know, it¡¯s a lot when you first make the decision. And I won¡¯t pretend you made your choice in the most ideal of circumstances.¡±

    Oliver accepted the cup, and took a tentative sip. His eyes went wide, and he took a second, more appreciative sip. He had never had much of a taste for tea, but the brew made by the little high-end cafe Adeline had led him to was the best had ever tried. It was the sort of place his father would never allow him to be seen in, understated but inarguably high quality. It was the kind of cafe those confident in their status went, rather than the ostentatious restaurants and tea halls that catered to the majority of the ambitious nobility, seeking to see and be seen.

    This cafe was quieter than those places too. Adeline and Oliver sat next to an open window, overlooking the street below, and the tasting room seated another dozen or more people, all in their own conversations. Yet some clever work of artifice and design kept the sounds of the room and the street alike quiet and distant. The quiet was relaxing after the day Oliver had had.

    ¡°I just can¡¯t believe he really¡­¡±

    Adeline took a sip of her own tea. ¡°I apologize for dumping that truth on you. I was not even sure of it myself, though I had heard enough rumors to think it likely.¡±

    ¡°Then his reaction said it all,¡± Oliver concluded. He frowned down at his tea, and added a lump of sugar to the little cup. His family had always chided him for taking his tea too sweet¨Chis father and eldest sister took theirs so thick it was almost black¨Cbut they didn¡¯t matter anymore. He was no longer bound to them, for better or worse.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Adeline agreed.

    ¡°Okay.¡± Oliver blew out a long breath, trying to excise some of the storm of confusing emotions swirling in his chest. ¡°So¡­ what now? What¡¯s next, now that I made my choice?¡±

    Adeline frowned thoughtfully, absently swirling her tea in the little cup in front of her. ¡°First things first. We¡¯ll need to get you a place to stay while we¡¯re in the city. We certainly can¡¯t have you staying at your family¡¯s manor anymore, not after how things went with your father.¡± Oliver flushed, but nodded firmly. She was right about that. ¡°The Order can foot the bill for you to stay at an inn while you get your feet under you, that¡¯s simple enough.¡±

    Oliver couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that ¡°the Order¡± in this case probably meant that Adeline would just be paying out of her own pocket. But without his family¡¯s money, he certainly had limited options to pay his own way. He swore to himself then and there that he would be the best squire he could, if only to make sure Adeline didn¡¯t regret all she was doing to help him.

    ¡°Do you need to stop at home? Anything you need to get out of your old chambers or anything like that?¡±

    OIiver frowned at the question, thinking of his chambers back home. Closets full of uncomfortable clothes he hated. Shelves piled with dry histories and boring biographies he had read anyways, just to pass the hours. A desk of blank paper and the fireplace where¡­

    ¡°No,¡± he finally answered. ¡°Not really.¡±

    Adeline nodded in approval. ¡°Good. The Argent Order is not much for being weighed down by material goods.¡±

    ¡°I would like to see my family, though,¡± Oliver added. ¡°Not my father, but my siblings, and maybe my mother. They deserve better than whatever angry story my father tells them.¡±

    Adeline approval seemed to deepen, and she inclined her head. ¡°That can be arranged. I¡¯ll find a neutral place where you can see them without interruption. We¡¯ll need to get you some travel clothes too.¡±

    Oliver looked down in surprise at his own fine clothes, then very deliberately looked at the stylish and expensive dress Adeline was wearing.

    The knight laughed at the obvious thoughts on his face. ¡°This is not what I wear on the road, Oliver,¡± she chided him, while he tried not to squirm at the way she said his name. She perked up suddenly, as if a thought had crossed her mind. ¡°Oh! We¡¯ll need to take you to a primal hall as well, to get your second gift! I almost forgot. I expect you have one chosen?¡±

    Oliver smiled widely at the thought. ¡°Wind,¡± he claimed firmly.

    Adeline arched an eyebrow. ¡°Really? I would¡¯ve expected fire, given the way you fight.¡±

    Oliver shook his head, ignoring the phantom fire flickering in his memory, consuming a child¡¯s fantasy. ¡°No,¡± he said resolutely. ¡°Wind.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Adeline shrugged easily. ¡°Wind it is. Then let¡¯s say¡­ three days. That should be more than enough time to get all of that done, and it should be long enough to find a job for us to take on.¡±

    Now it was Oliver¡¯s turn to perk up. ¡°A job?¡± He flushed abruptly, realizing he had come all this way, had left behind his family and committed himself to a new way of life, without even really understanding what he had signed up for. ¡°Uhm¡­ would you mind filling me in on the Argent Order? I know the stories, of course, but¡­¡±

    Adeline gasped. ¡°Oh, yes, of course! I¡¯m so sorry, I should¡¯ve done that first thing.¡± She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders in a way Oliver didn¡¯t think she was fully conscious of, as if she was slipping into a teaching mindset, or maybe emulating whoever had inducted her. She had only slipped a couple times, but he was starting to think that, when Adeline wasn¡¯t trying to put forward the dignified air she had projected at the dueling hall, his new mentor might be a little absent minded. It made him a little more comfortable to know she wasn¡¯t quite as intimidatingly officious as she had come off earlier. ¡°Let¡¯s start with what you know of the Wastes and the traditional knightly orders. That will give us a starting point.¡±

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Oliver took a thoughtful sip of his tea, taking the moment to collect his thoughts. ¡°Sure. Okay, the Wastes¡­ they¡¯re the places where the barrier between this world and the others is the thinnest, so they¡¯re where most outsiders cross over. Were they left unattended, a dangerous group of monsters could build up in and around them, so the Bastion Cities were founded on the border of each Waste. Most residents of the Bastion Cities, especially among the nobility, strive to gain the proper training and gifts to be able become sentinels, and to go combat the outsiders in the Wastes.

    ¡°The orders of knights within each city are the pinnacle of those forces. Most of their members are Adepts or higher, and they¡¯re called on to answer the most dangerous and powerful threats to emerge from each Waste. There¡¯s the Aurul Order in the Arsilet, the Ochre Order in Terase, the Azure Order-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Adeline cut Oliver off, her voice amused. ¡°At the very least, your father didn¡¯t skimp on your education. That¡¯s good. So then, young scholar,¡± Adeline grinned, her teasing making Oliver flush in a way he hoped she didn¡¯t notice, ¡°how many outsider manifestations would you say occur within the five great Wastes, as opposed to the rest of the Realm? Half? Three-quarters?¡±

    Oliver blinked in surprise at the question, then frowned in thought. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not sure. I never really thought about it. But I know the vast majority of them occur within the Wastes, so I¡¯d guess¡­ more than three-quarters?¡±

    Adeline shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s what so many nobles seem to think. The Realm is so much larger than most of you seem to realize. The Wastes, and the cities that patrol them, occupy just a tenth of the Realm¡¯s physical space, and we estimate that they account for about a third of the total manifestations that occur within our borders.¡±

    ¡°A third!?¡± Oliver asked, shocked. ¡°But¡­ but that can¡¯t be right! We¡¯d be swarmed by outsiders!¡±

    ¡°Of course, the Verdant Wastes to the north account for many more, but there are few even among the aristocracy that would consider that wilderness a part of our Realm. So yes. A third, maybe, of the outsiders that threaten the Realm appear within the Wastes. Of course, if not for the hard work of the bastion forces, those populations would quickly become uncontrollable, but how do you think the remainder of those monsters are handled?¡±

    ¡°The Argent Order?¡± Oliver asked, disbelieving. ¡°But¡­ there are so few of you! You¡¯re only the fourth Argent knight I¡¯ve ever seen!¡±

    Adeline responded with a small laugh of amusement at the boy¡¯s reaction, and took another sip of tea before correcting him. ¡°Not quite. We¡¯re not that powerful. But we do our part to help.¡±

    Oliver frowned thoughtfully, thinking back to his lessons. ¡°The wardens then?¡±

    Oliver knew that the wardens were the equivalent of the sentinels in the trade cities. Smaller and less powerful than the bastion cities, the trade cities didn¡¯t attract the same number of skilled battle-gifted that made up the sentinel cadres. As the wardens didn¡¯t have a Waste to secure, they instead patrolled the trade routes that crisscrossed the Realm, ensuring monsters, outsiders, and bandits didn¡¯t threaten the smaller communities.

    ¡°Somewhat. They do some of the heavy lifting at least, ensuring that what threats lurk in the frontier aren¡¯t too destructive to the main trade routes, but they have neither the numbers or strength to truly secure the wilds of the Realm. The hunters and militias in the villages and towns do their part as well, as much if not more so than the wardens.¡±

    Oliver nodded, his brow knitted together in thought. The Wastes were best surveyed by the cadres of sentinels, teams of three to eight gift bearers that worked together, usually for years at a time, to fight the outsiders that appeared in the Wastes. While the density of monsters in each Waste was generally quite high, they rarely worked together. A skilled cadre could handle most solitary threats or small forces of outsiders by themselves, so a large number of the small groups were ideal for combing through the often difficult terrain of the Wastes.

    The frontier alone was an order of magnitude larger than all of the Wastes put together. Even if every sentinel in every bastion city gave up on the Wastes and just patrolled the heartland, which comprised perhaps half of the Realm as a whole, they would barely scratch the surface. It required a different approach.

    ¡°So the wardens patrol the trade routes,¡± Oliver said, his words slow and tenuous as he thought out loud, ¡°while the hunters monitor the areas around their villages¡­ and then the Argent Order fills in the spaces? The places where there are no village hunters and no trade routes?¡±

    Adeline watched, clearly intrigued, as he thought his way through what she was explaining. ¡°Correct in theory at least.¡± Adeline rolled her shoulder in a shrug, and her eyes drifted out the window. She thought for a long moment, then another. The silence stretched for well over a minute before she sighed and turned back to Oliver. ¡°This is not the best way I¡¯ve ever gone about recruiting someone. In some ways, I fear I may have forced you on this path. Or at the very least, circumstances did.¡±

    Oliver watched Adeline cautiously. He hadn¡¯t expected this sudden hesitance from the knight, who had seemed so confident since he had met her. ¡°Adeline¡­¡± he hesitated, suddenly unsure if there was a title he should be using for her, but he bulled through it anyway. ¡°You offered me the opportunity I never knew I wanted. You did not force me here.¡±

    Adeline smiled sadly at him. ¡°I hope you always feel that way, Oliver. But¡­ if you¡¯d prefer, I can bring you to a sentinel bar. We could have you signed up with a good, respectable cadre by the end of the day. Enough time and enough success in the Wastes will smooth over whatever feelings your father may have about what happened today. But¡­ if I explain everything to you, there will be no going back. Do you understand?¡±

    Oliver studied Adeline carefully. Even with everything his father had done for him, the offer was tempting. He could return to his old life. His old home. Already, he had been saved from the life of mediocrity he had feared in the first place. He could learn from his sister, he could live with his brother. He could, if he was lucky, win his family some prestige. His father would sneer at him, and find any excuse he could to punish him, but Adeline was right. If Oliver proved himself in the Wastes, it would blow over. Reputation guided all of Arthur Dennan¡¯s decisions.

    All he had to do was make his choice. Ignore the mysteries Adeline had presented him. Choose the safe path over the unknown road.

    He remembered words on a page, feelings he could never speak out loud. He remembered his father¡¯s eyes, judging him. His mother¡¯s eyes, disappointed in him.

    He remembered the day he had begun to burn his most private writings before anyone could see them.

    ¡°Tell me. Please.¡±

    Adeline nodded. She saw the resolution in his eyes, and the pain that lurked behind them. ¡°Very well. What do you know of adventurers?¡±

 Chapter 8 - Allana

    The bastion cities were established with a clarity of purpose. Everyone, from the King in Arsilet, to the Dukes in Westerlen and Terast and the Twin Cities, to the lower nobility, to even the common citizens of those glittering bulwarks, knew that they were all that stood between the Realm and a horde of outsiders.

    This dedication of purpose was not shared by the trade cities.

    Founded little more than a century before, the three mercantile cities existed primarily to enable the movement of goods throughout the Realm to support the bastion cities. Even their joint military police force, the wardens, was focused primarily on securing the highroads that the traders relied on. As the trade cities proved far more effective at moving goods quickly, safely, and efficiently than any other system attempted in the three centuries prior to their founding, the nobility, and even the King, gave them certain allowances unseen in the history of the Realm.

    On the day of their formal founding, the eighth Queen in Arsilet had ruled that the trade cities would forever remain independent, outside of the influence of any of the traditional peerage. Instead, they would be governed by their citizens, in whatever way they saw fit. The only exception their charter allowed for was if the Crown ruled that they were failing in their duty¨Cthen, and only then, could the High Court of Arsilet take the reins.

    This broad independence had led to a wide array of results between the three cities. In the heartlands of the Realm, Correntry had grown up in the civilizing influence of Arsilet and Elliven. It was administered by a representative government, elected by the merchants, artisans, and business owners that lived within the city¡¯s walls, and was often considered as beautiful and safe as the bastion cities themselves. In fact, many noble families from the bastion cities maintained a branch of their family within Correntry¡¯s walls, for the sake of comfort as much as influence. With those nobles came the law keepers of the Arbiter that ensured the safety of the city¡¯s streets.

    Along the southernmost coast of the Realm, the trade city of Emeston had developed very differently. The closest bastion city, up along the curving coast to the west, was Westerlen. Westerlen¡¯s much more relaxed, individualistic culture had influenced Emeston just as Arsilet had influenced Correntry. Unfortunately, this centering of the self over the community had created a city in which only the wealthiest and most powerful merchants, the Golden Council, held any real influence. What little government existed within Emeston was dedicated wholly to managing and enforcing the bewildering array of trade agreements and mercantile contracts that bound together the various merchant companies. For those commoners with the misfortune to seek opportunity in the city, it offered little but scarce wages, high costs, and dangerous slums.

    The volatile combination of an oppressed underclass, a lack of official oversight, and a stark wealth disparity inevitably resulted in a thriving criminal culture. In the Realm¡¯s other cities, the archetypes of law and order, like the Noble or the Arbiter, would stymie such development, but as organized crime only opened up new revenue streams for canny and ruthless merchants, it was allowed to flourish. In a city that prized wealth over order, the archetype of the Rogue stood ascendent.

    Emeston was built on a section of gently curving coastline that formed an oval-shaped bowl of a bay, a natural harbor which now boasted a dozen different ports strung along the once pristine coastline. A scant few miles from the coastline, the terrain ascended gradually into a chain of rolling hills that, elsewhere along the coast, turned into a series of steep cliffs. From this privileged perch, the richest men in Emeston looked down upon the slums that had been allowed to grow like a fungal bed between them and the ports that generated their fortunes. Ramshackle tenements, rundown dive bars, twisting alleys, and sparse markets blended together to form a wretched stretch of city collectively known as Lowrun, and from that fertile seedbed sprang a thousand drug dens, brothels, fighting pits, and other institutions built to prey on the poverty of the city, each owned and operated by middlemen who ensured that wealth continued to quietly and surely flow up the hills to Highreach.

    It was these dark and dangerous streets that Allana Dalamis had roamed for as long as she could remember.

    #

    Allana¡¯s brisk stride slowed for a bare second. The brow above one incandescent violet eye arched, and the challenging glare coming from her inhuman eyes was enough to make the pair of dirty men that had been swaggering up the street towards her pause. But apparently the look had failed to sufficiently intimidate them, and the two scoundrels continued towards her.

    ¡°Oi, lookit this one here!¡± one said as they approached, his slurred voice demonstrating how deep he had gotten in his cups.

    ¡°Oh, I dunno about her, Rol. She looks like she might¡¯ve spoiled.¡± Both men guffawed at the joke.

    Allana bristled at the comment on her skin¡¯s unique purple tint, and she found her fingers flexing, itching to conjure her daggers. But she had an appointment to keep, so she kept walking.

    ¡°Oi!¡± The first man called after her. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going, bitch?¡±

    Allana paused, and finally stopped. She always hated that word. Bitch. She gave into temptation and flicked one hand, conjuring a long brass dagger into her palm.

    In a city the size of Emeston, wraiths were not unheard of, but neither were they common. The fact that every wraith¡¯s body uniquely expressed the magic that flowed through their blood only made others more cautious of them. But even among the many wraiths that lived in the slums of Lowrun, few were as singularly striking as Allana. Where for other wraiths, the unnatural mutations of the magic in their blood often manifested in horrifying mutilations or unsettling defects, Allana was, at worst, uncanny.

    Her figure was that of a fit, athletic young woman, her body a comely combination of powerful muscle and lush curves. Were she a normal human, that body and her alluring, heart-shaped face would turn heads wherever she went, but her wraith heritage was obvious to anyone that saw her. She wasn¡¯t lucky enough to have some horns she could cover with a loose hood, or blemishes that the right clothing could conceal. Her skin was a deep purple that looked pitch black in dim light. Her hair, which she kept trimmed short around her ears, with shaggy bangs that often hung over her eyes, was a similar shade near the roots, but brightened to the same brilliant violet as her eyes near the tips. To most, the unnatural violet and purple shades that defined her appearance were unsettling, but many, too many, only found her unique features that much more alluring.

    Allana turned to face the two drunkards, tilting her hand to make sure that the silhouette of her dagger was obvious, a clear and simple threat.

    The second man blew out a low whistle, its note as cracked and flawed as the man¡¯s scarred face. ¡°Well lookie here¡­ I take it back Rol, I think she might be ripe after all.¡±

    Despite her beauty and the dangers any young woman had to be aware of in Lowrun, Allana dressed in clothing both functional and appealing. Above the waist, she wore only a leather vest of supple calfskin that conformed to her chest and stomach, leaving the lean muscles of her shoulders and arms bare. Below, she wore trousers of the same material, which hugged her body just as tightly. To anyone who asked, she explained that the clothing was important to her work, helping her to be more stealthy, but given her gifts, that was an obvious lie. The simple fact was that Allana was proud of her body, and it would take more than some crude drunkards for her to change her mind.

    ¡°Move. Along.¡± Allana emphasized each word clearly, her voice carrying down the quiet street easily.

    Situated along the coast, the salt-tinged air in Emeston was rarely less than cloying, and as the warmth of the first day of spring gave way to the lingering chill of the night, the moisture rapidly collected into a dense fog. The light of the few street lamps still lit on the otherwise empty street could barely penetrate the mist, leaving Allana in a tiny island of light with her two potential assailants.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, lassie. Hows about you put that eeny blade of yours down before you hurt yourself, and don¡¯t try to fight too much, eh?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be gentle.¡± His hungry eyes implied otherwise. ¡°Outlaw¡¯s promise.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes. The two were practically salivating, to the point that even if she was as helpless as they seemed to believe, she¡¯d be unlikely to trust their word. She shook her head and made a disappointed noise. ¡°You two really are that dumb, aren¡¯t you? I was going to let you go once you apologized, but I¡¯ll not inflict you on some poor girl with the bad luck to find her way across your path next.¡± She flicked her other hand, and her bracelets jingled merrily as a second dagger, with a thicker iron blade, hooked at one end, appeared in it.

    [Ensouled Item Conjuration] - Active, Conjuration - Conjure the ensouled item bound to this gift. No cost. Current conjurations: iron dagger, brass dagger.

    ¡°Look around you girl! No one¡¯s gonna come save you, so stop talkin¡¯ so big and¨C¡±

    The first man cut off as the second grabbed him by the arm. ¡°Rol! You hear that?¡±

    ¡°Hear what?¡±

    ¡°Her bracelets!¡±

    Allana smiled, though there was no joy in it. It was the smile of a snake finding a pair of foolish mice. She took a couple steps closer to the two men, so they could better see her. Each step had its own little chiming accompaniment from the anklets at her feet.

    ¡°Purple skin¡­ two daggers¡­ a buncha bracelets¡­ The Violet Edge!¡± Rol swore as he realized who Allana was.

    There was a reason Allana could walk the streets of Lowrun at night, alone and dressed to show her body. She had taught her little corner of Emeston¡¯s slums her name and her skills. As capable in a street fight as she was at cutting a purse or tripping a lock, Allana had been defending herself as long as she could walk, and she had earned the overwrought nickname the citizens of Lowrun had hung on her in the year since she had first received the gift of stealth and the gift of poison.

    Then the idiot kept talking. ¡°She¡¯s Telik¡¯s bitch!¡±

    Allana frowned again, as much at the mention of the crime lord as that word again. She hated being associated with Telik like that. Yes, he had saved her from a life on the streets. Yes, he had taught her to run and climb and rob and fight. Yes, he had bought her the ensouled daggers that sat in her hands, and the gift that came with them. But she wasn¡¯t some kept pet, like the others Telik had given those same opportunities. Her reputation was hers.

    ¡°That was your last mistake.¡±

    The men looked at her wide-eyed, fear robbing them of their intoxication. Her grin came back, as wicked and hungry as ever, and she lunged forward. Both men flinched, the one called Rol falling on his ass¨Cbut Allana was simply gone. The fog moved in vague, shapeless patterns before them.

    ¡°W-where¡¯d she go?¡± Rol asked, looking wildly around.

    ¡°Bitch must¡¯ve run aw-¡± The other man¡¯s words broke off in a wet sound, then his body collapsed on the street, blood spilling from his cut throat.

    Rol spun around just in time to see the grinning Allana stepping away from the corpse and fading into the fog. ¡°W-what the fuck?¡± The man belatedly pulled a rough oak cudgel from the tatty piece of rope he was using as a belt. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, bitch!¡±

    Rol felt a brief stab of pain at his side, and spun around, bringing his club down on Allana where she crouched behind him, but she easily rolled away, fading into the fog again with the help of her gift of stealth.

    [Obscuring Veil] - Active, Illusion - Manifest an illusion that partially masks you from conventional senses. Veil is most effective in darkness or other obscuring conditions. Minor focus cost recurs as long as the veil is active.

    The drunkard¡¯s club threw up chips of cobble as it hit the ground, revealing that he had some sort of gift to empower his strike. That wasn¡¯t a problem for Allana. He wasn¡¯t going to get another chance to attack her. She stayed hidden in her veil, mere feet from the man, as he spun around, fruitlessly looking for her in the fog. He likely had the gift of the outlaw, which certainly didn¡¯t give him the awareness boons he¡¯d need to see through an Apprentice level veil.

    Finally, he swore and gave up, running down the street. Allana calmly paced after him, counting backwards softly in her head. He had made it a block before he fell, clutching his heart. His face turned red as he writhed on the ground for a few moments, then finally went still. Allana smiled and looked down at her brass dagger¨Cand the film of dark green that mingled with the would-be assailant¡¯s blood on the blade.

    [Toxic Manifestation] - Active, Conjuration - Manifest a simple poison that causes ongoing resilience damage. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

    [Poisoned Conjuration] - Poison, Stealth - Passive, Conjuration - Ensouled items may be conjured already coated in the poison from toxic manifestation. Poisons conjured this way have their quintessence cost reduced by one stage.

    He was lucky she had places to be¨Cotherwise she would¡¯ve used a weaker poison and watched him suffer.

    [Gift of Poison] experienced gained

    Experience: 57%

    ¡°Who¡¯s the bitch now?¡± Allana asked the corpse, her voice soft. She let the veil drop, as there was no one left to see her, and tried to take joy in killing the two wretches. But she couldn¡¯t. Though she couldn¡¯t quite put words to it, part of her wished that she didn¡¯t have to be so ruthless. But in Emeston, ruthlessness was a way of life.

    #

    Allana paused as she reached a cross street, considering the directions Telik had given her. She absently reached up with one hand to brush an errant lock of hair behind her ear. The motion drew a soft jingle from the set of loose fitting bangles and bracelets she wore on her wrist. Like the similar set of anklets she wore, they were made of common materials¨Cbrass, iron, hempen string and twine, bits of shell and stone she thought pretty. The rumors surrounding her ornamentation were just one more part of her carefully cultivated reputation, with many convinced that they were magical charms and talismans given to her by Telik to protect her and enhance her abilities.

    She preferred those whispers over people knowing that they were a simple hobby of hers, and that she liked the way they felt on her skin. The only downside was that it only furthered the impression that Telik owned her.

    That thought made Allana frown as she walked. For her entire life, her loyalty to Telik had been a simple fact of life, as obvious as the gray of the bay. Only of late had she begun to chafe at his leash on her neck. The frown sharpened the already intense look on her face, further ensuring that the few passerby that saw her scurried out of her way. No one else was as foolish as the two drunkards had been.

    Finally, she reached the place she had been directed to. The building was a rarity in the slums¨Cwell-lit, well-built and well-maintained. It was smaller than the ramshackle tenements that climbed up awkwardly to either side of it, but the fine wood and stone it had been constructed with spoke of gifts involved in its construction. Allana had the impression that the ragged buildings to either side of it could collapse on the large house, and it wouldn¡¯t even need repairs.

    That was notable, in and of itself. Telik was likely the most wealthy and influential man in Lowrun, and one of the highest level as well. Yet his abode was still a cobbled together series of crude buildings he had bought and linked together over the years. The result was a sprawling structure the size of a small neighborhood. His personal bedchambers and office were lavish in their own way, but even they lacked the simple austerity of the building before her. Yet she had never heard of this place. That could only mean money, power, and influence, perhaps as much as Telik himself. Why would he send her here?

    ¡°Only one way to find out¡­¡± Allana muttered under her breath. She refused to be intimidated by a simple house, no matter how ostentatious it might be. But she did pause a moment to conjure her ensouled daggers and slide them into sheathes sewn into either side of her vest, making her armaments obvious.

    The wood of the door was so dense and solid that Allana was sure anyone inside couldn¡¯t have heard her knock. Nonetheless, the door swung open only moments later.

    ¡°The Violet Edge, I assume?¡± The man on the other side of the door asked. He was a well-built man, tall and broad of shoulder, with long, curling hair like spun gold. A tidy goatee framed a small smile that matched the amusement dancing in the back of his tone.

    Allana rolled her eyes at the dramatic title. ¡°Allana is fine,¡± she told him.

    He nodded, caramel eyes dancing with silent laughter, and he took a step back. ¡°As you will. Please come in, Allana.¡± He gestured in a flourish as he said her name, gesturing down the hall behind him.

    Allana rolled her eyes, and stepped inside, suspicious of whatever plotting had brought her here. But then, suspicion kept her alive. It, too, was the way of life in Emeston.

 Chapter 9 - Allana

    Allana studied the man sitting across from her carefully. He was just above average height, which made him only an inch or two taller than her, though he displayed an impressively broad pair of shoulders. His long, coiffed blonde hair went most of the way down his back, and it added an almost buffoonish aspect to his appearance¨Cone that conflicted with the careful economy of movement he displayed when he guided from the door to the small, well-appointed office they now sat in.

    Allana knew the stride of a predator when she saw it. This man was well trained, and high level. He said nothing, letting her take her time investigating him and the room they sat in. He simply leaned back in his plush chair, propped his feet up on top of his desk, and sipped at a glass of amber liquor. He had offered her a glass of the same, but Allana had refused on principle. Something told her that dulling her senses in the company of a man like this would be a mistake.

    His mouth, framed by that goatee of all things, quirked up into that amused smirk again. Like the room they were in, and the house itself, his clothes were a clear display of wealth. He dressed in layers, like a beggar bundled against a chill, but each garment likely cost more than Allana could steal in a month, from the silken long sleeved tunic, to the colorful cotton jacket, to the voluminous mantle he wore over it all. The fabrics were all clashing hues of bright colors, a rich man¡¯s motley that did little to conceal the dangerous nature of the man underneath. A man like this didn¡¯t belong in Lowrun.

    ¡°You¡¯re high level,¡± Allana finally said.

    ¡°Correct.¡± His voice was a smooth, cultured baritone.

    ¡°Why did you ask Telik for my services?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite blunt, aren¡¯t you?¡± he asked in return, amused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be here, so let¡¯s get it over with. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Tut tut tut,¡± the man admonished her. ¡°No social skills at all. You haven¡¯t even asked my name yet.¡±

    Allana narrowed her eyes. ¡°Are you going to answer any of my questions?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Geoffrey, by the way.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t bother asking.¡±

    The man rolled his eyes heavensward. ¡°Whether it¡¯s real or not, you will need something to call me while we¡¯re working together, will you not?¡±

    Allana stiffened in her seat. ¡°Work together?¡±

    ¡°Telik really didn¡¯t tell you much, did he?¡± Geoffrey shook his head in disappointment. ¡°This isn¡¯t a job, Allana. It¡¯s training. Your master asked me to take you under my wing for a time.¡±

    Allana bristled. ¡°Telik doesn¡¯t own me. He¡¯s not my master.¡± She could taste the venom in her voice. Literally, in fact, as she could feel the sour taste of the gift of poison responding to her anger, and she had to make an active effort to swallow the magic down.

    Geoffrey waved dismissively with the hand that wasn¡¯t holding his drink. ¡°Mmm, of course not. He¡¯s simply the man who bought you your gifts, your home, and your safety, and all the things you need to live.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that!¡± Allana insisted. ¡°He took me in when I was an orphan, and I need to pay him back for that. It''s not like I¡¯m his pet or something.¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s expression was downright pitiful. ¡°Oh, dear girl¡­ it¡¯s just like that. I¡¯m simply amazed you don¡¯t see it.¡± He took a sip of his drink, then added offhand, ¡°Oh, and by now, you should¡¯ve asked what it is you¡¯re here to learn from me, rather than waste your words denying an uncomfortable truth.¡±

    Allana made a small, aggravated noise of chagrin, becoming more frustrated by the minute. It was like the man had already decided where the conversation was going, and nothing she said mattered. Besides. He was all wrong about Telik. Right?

    ¡°Let me guess.¡± Allana sat back in her chair, content to fold her arms and glare daggers at the man across the desk from her. ¡°Telik wants me to toughen up while protecting your interests, or something like that.¡± He had been hinting for a while now, in his unsubtle way, that he felt Allana was still too soft for the life she led.

    Geoffrey arched an eyebrow, and she noticed even those looked trimmed. ¡°Really Allana? You think I¡¯m a merchant? I thought better of you.¡±

    Allana bit back a sharp retort, glancing more closely around the room. He was right, of course. Any merchant that had the sort of money it took to build a place like this could just live in comfort in Highreach instead. Only poor merchants made do in Lowrun. She had let her anger get the better of her.

    Geoffrey stayed carefully quiet while Allana studied both the room and her supposed mentor-to-be again. A place like this flaunted wealth, which meant power and success. Having a house to show such traits in Lowrun meant that he was attempting to impress the people there, who would see what was apparently both his home and place of business. He could run a gambling hall, or a drug den, but Telik owned most of the vice mongers in Lowrun. Geoffrey was clearly at least a peer to the man who ran much of Lowrun¡¯s criminal industry, based on how he spoke about Telik. He could be a whore master or a body runner, but Telik knew better than to send her to a place like that.

    Allana chewed her bottom lip, admitting to herself that it wasn¡¯t an impossibility. Rogue knew it was a common enough threat, growing up. But she hadn¡¯t upset him lately, and didn¡¯t have any recent failures to her name that would draw that sort of ire from the slumlord.

    Besides, she told herself, if that was the case, Geoffrey wouldn¡¯t be chatting like this. Allana was confident about her chances against most men in Lowrun, but if Geoffrey was an Adept like Telik, as she suspected he was, she wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against him. That was a taste more bitter than her worst poison.

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    So, a wealthy man who still had to live in Lowrun. A man who managed to accumulate power and wealth to rival Telik, yet who she had never heard of in her years on Lowrun¡¯s streets. A dangerous and powerful man who had the stride and manner of a skilled fighter, yet purposefully adopted the mannerisms of a harmless socialite.

    ¡°You¡¯re an assassin,¡± she finally concluded. Then her eyes narrowed. If Geoffrey was an assassin, and Telik had sent her to learn from him, then¡­

    Geoffrey nodded his approval. ¡°Good. Only took you two tries.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ Telik¡­¡±

    Geoffrey nodded again, but his smile had vanished. ¡°Also correct. The old man has, apparently, been grooming you to be an assassin. His assassin.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ that can¡¯t be¡­¡± Allana suppressed a growl, trying her hardest to keep her anger at bay and think things out logically. She quickly felt as ignorant as Geoffrey made her out to be. The pieces of it all fell together easily. ¡°But it can be, can¡¯t it? He taught me how to fight, how to build my reputation. Hell, even my gifts¡­¡±

    ¡°Ensouled daggers with the gift of stealth, and the Primal¡¯s gift of poison. You have to admit, they¡¯re effective blessings for a professional killer.¡±

    Allana frowned, considering his words. Sensing the direction of her thoughts, her stats appeared, floating before her eyes.

    Allana, the Violet Edge

    Level: Apprentice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of Poison]: +3 to coordination and resilience

    [Gift of Stealth]: +3 to coordination and focus

    Attributes:

    Strength: 5

    Resilience: 9 (6 + 3)

    Stamina: 5

    Coordination: 10 (7 + 3)

    Speed: 6

    Will: 7

    Knowledge: 4

    Focus: 8 (5 +3)

    Awareness: 6

    Charm: 5

    Quintessence Pool: 15

    ¡°Then, when I reach Initiate level¡­ there¡¯s some sort of assassin gift, I take it?¡± Allana glared daggers at the foppish man watching her from across his desk. He tried to hide it, but Allana noticed when his balance slightly shifted, muscles tightening. He was ready for her to spring at him.

    ¡°Yes. One of the Rogue¡¯s gifts. Telik¡¯s idea was for you to train with me, pick up the tools of the trade, then have you complete your first solo job upon reaching Initiate. If you were successful, the Rogue would offer the gift of the assassin, and Telik would have his perfect enforcer.¡±

    ¡°How am I supposed to trust your claim?¡± she asked.

    Geoffrey simply arched a single sarcastic eyebrow. Allana flushed slightly, the color a brilliant magenta against her dark purple skin. She knew his answer without him speaking. Too many pieces fit. She knew he was telling her the truth.

    Allana turned her glare to the floor. Her anger had always served her well, growing up. It was as much a shield as a weapon. Her fiery temper and hard-earned confidence was the bedrock her reputation was built on. But she had already seen that it wouldn¡¯t benefit her here. She needed to think calmly and clearly, no matter how this bastard provoked her.

    Since he had taken her in, Telik was the closest thing to a father Allana had, even if the crimelord wasn''t particularly paternal. Even so, she had never considered the idea that he had been grooming her, controlling every piece of her, down to her gifts, for that long. It wasn¡¯t that she had anything against killing someone¨CRogue knew she had done it before, and she would again. But that had always been self-defense, against men and women who deserved it.

    But to be pointed like a weapon? Sicced like a dog? Just a living tool to enforce Telik¡¯s will on those with the temerity to stand up to the wealthy crime lord?

    ¡°No,¡± she found herself saying out loud. ¡°I refuse.¡±

    Something hot flashed through Geoffrey¡¯s eyes, and for the first time in the conversation, his flippant demeanor dropped, fully revealing the hard man underneath. He pulled his feet off of his desk, and leaned forward in his chair. ¡°You won¡¯t have a choice,¡± he claimed.

    Allana¡¯s hands flew to her daggers, though she knew she had no chance against the older man. She¡¯d still go down fighting.

    The man snorted derisively¨Cand then he was just gone. One moment, he was sitting in his chair, a solid desk between them, and the next she felt a whisper of breath behind her ear while the edge of a dagger settled on her throat.

    ¡°Drop them.¡± Geoffrey¡¯s voice was a bark of pure authority, and Allana found her hands following his directions instinctively. Both daggers clattered to the floor, then vanished. ¡°I¡¯m not threatening you. I¡¯m telling you a fact.¡±

    Allana¡¯s body trembled with shame and rage like she had never felt before. She knew she couldn¡¯t win, but she had at least expected a fight, not¡­ this. But still. She didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Good,¡± Geoffrey¡¯s voice was quiet, but it got closer, like he was crouching down behind her. Still, the blade stayed steady against her neck. ¡°Now here¡¯s another fact for you: I¡¯m not Telik¡¯s friend. And I think I want to see him dead about as much as you do at the moment.¡±

    ¡°I doubt that,¡± Allana growled.

    ¡°Mmm... fair enough.¡± Suddenly, the dagger was gone, and Geoffrey was settling into his seat, back behind his desk. Allana¡¯s hand flew to her throat, but there wasn¡¯t even a lingering cut from the razor-edged blade. His control had been perfect, enough to intimidate her without marking her.

    ¡°Telik expects you to be training with me for some time to come. I told him that, while you were working with me, he was not to have you tracked or followed. That it would be too likely to interfere with our activities.¡±

    ¡°You dictated terms to him?¡± Allana asked with a helpless huff of laughter. ¡°And you think he¡¯ll listen?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the most powerful assassin in this boil of a city, Allana. Telik did not demand this service from me, he asked me for it. I could dictate whatever terms I wanted. And if he doesn¡¯t listen, that¡¯s fine. I have no problem killing some sneak he thinks I won¡¯t notice.¡±

    ¡°Works for me,¡± Allana replied through a wicked smile, an expression that carried more vindictiveness than actual happiness.

    ¡°Now, here is my offer.¡± As Geoffrey spoke, he poured himself a fresh glass of that same amber alcohol. ¡°I¡¯ll train you, just as Telik asked. But rather than training you to be his killer, I''ll train you to be the one who kills him.¡±

    Allana¡¯s violet eyes went wide. She knew she should be suspicious, that there was no reason to trust this man she had just met. She didn¡¯t even know why Geoffrey wanted Telik dead. But her anger overruled her common sense. Allana snatched up the glass he had poured her at the beginning of their conversation. ¡°It¡¯s a deal.¡±

    Geoffrey smiled, and the clink of their glasses was the chime of a chain being broken.

 Chapter 10 - Cadence

    Ryme had barely listened to Cadence¡¯s story past the words ¡°I went to the barrens and this guy saved me¡± before she had hustled them both back to the cozy little cottage the mother and daughter shared to extract the full explanation of Cadence¡¯s foolish trip to the barrens and Storyteller¡¯s last second rescue. Now she watched her mother eye Storyteller with dissatisfaction, while Cadence sat quietly to one side, keeping her eyes downcast and fidgeting occasionally.

    She still couldn¡¯t believe it. She had a gift! One she had never even heard of before! That was what she wanted to talk about, not what had happened in the barrens! In fact, if Cadence had her way, she¡¯d never talk or even think about that terrifying experience ever again.

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit,¡± Storyteller told Ryme, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect quite this much hostility for saving your daughter.¡± His tone was flippant in the face of the hunter¡¯s clear frustration.

    On the surface, Ryme was not anyone''s idea of terrifying. She was just a few inches taller than her daughter, and built along similarly lithe lines. But while no one would describe Cadence as anything more generous than ¡°petite,¡± Ryme¡¯s body was packed with taut muscle. Her sapphire hair, a couple shades darker than Cadence¡¯s, was kept cropped too short for even a ponytail, and her bangs framed eyes just as bright blue as Cadence¡¯s own¨Cthough Cadence had never mastered the threatening glare her mother currently had fixed on Storyteller.

    Despite her comely appearance, Ryme¡¯s soul was as territorial and unyielding as the bear that had given her one of her gifts, especially when her anger was roused. She was easily the most skilled and respected of Felisen¡¯s half dozen hunters, and at Initiate level, her gifts gave her the sort of strength even the largest of men lacked without their own gifts. Cadence understood that better than ever since she had seen her own attributes.

    Despite all of that, Storyteller looked fearlessly at the fierce hunter, his face set in a smile as smooth and placid as a still pool.

    Cadence would have expected his calmness to only frustrate her mother more, but remarkably, it had the opposite effect. Storyteller¡¯s serenity in the face of her anger, and the reminder that he had only acted to help Cadence, left Ryme¡¯s rage with little to feed on, and it quickly burnt itself out.

    Ryme made a frustrated noise and all but collapsed into one of the chairs set around their modest dining room table. Her eyes drifted away from Storyteller and focused on her daughter. The concern on her face was obvious, mixed with a healthy dose of chagrin. Cadence didn¡¯t quite understand that last part¨Cwhile her mother¡¯s anger at her poor decision to sneak off to the barrens made sense, she could see no reason for Ryme to seem upset with herself. It wasn¡¯t like she could¡¯ve known what Cadence was planning!

    ¡°I appreciate what you did,¡± Ryme finally told Storyteller, returning her eyes to him, ¡°but it leaves too many questions. I still don¡¯t understand why you were in the barrens, what it was you saved Cadence from, or even who you are!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Storyteller,¡± he said simply, the first two questions having gone by too fast to answer them.

    ¡°¡®Storyteller¡¯ is not a name!¡± She snapped back at him. ¡°It¡¯s a job description at best, and not a very good one at that!¡±

    Storyteller shrugged, unconcerned as ever. ¡°What is a name then? I promise you that more people would recognize me by that name than any other I could give you.¡±

    Ryme rolled her eyes. ¡°Well, I certainly haven¡¯t heard of you. And that doesn¡¯t tell me why you were miles deep in the forest, in the middle of the most dangerous place for dozens of miles in any direction, to save my daughter.¡±

    Storyteller mused thoughtfully on that for a second before answering, ¡°Would you believe it was a coincidence?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t either,¡± he admitted sheepishly. ¡°We¡¯ll have to call it fate, then.¡±

    Ryme sighed. In the wake of her outburst, she seemed fatigued more than angry. Storyteller¡¯s evasive answers weren¡¯t helping. ¡°That is still not a satisfactory answer, Mister¡­¡± she sighed again, ¡°Storyteller.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Storyteller asked. The man blinked and looked around sharply, as if focusing for the first time since they had sat down in Cadence¡¯s home. He leaned forward in his seat, and the difference was startling, like a statue suddenly animating. ¡°Fate is something of a specialty of mine. I was simply following up on a rumor concerning these barrens of yours. I had suspected them to be related to the Arboreal Wastes.¡±

    Cadence perked up at that, while Ryme narrowed her eyes. The Arboreal Wastes had appeared before Ryme was born, but only barely. On the scale of the centuries the Realm had existed, the fifty years that had passed since the appearance of the new Wastes made it a recent event. Elliven, the bastion city settled for the purpose of patrolling the new Wastes, was so young it didn¡¯t even have a Duke yet!

    ¡°Following up on a rumor¡­ Do you think yourself some kind of adventurer?¡±

    ¡°In a sense,¡± Storyteller replied, his previous calm replaced with an animated charm that matched his dancing green eyes.

    Cadence took a sharp inhale. Of course she had heard of adventurers¨Clike every other child in the Realm, she had grown up on stories of them. Gallant knights and mysterious wanderers, roaming the Realm, defeating monsters, overthrowing corrupt lords, rescuing invariably attractive young women, and discovering ancient and powerful treasures. But they were just that¨Cstories. Even Cadence knew that.

    Ryme rolled her eyes. ¡°I hate to disappoint you, but the barrens are older than the Arboreal Wastes. I¡¯ve got elders in town that¡¯ll tell you their parents were brought up fearing the barrens.¡±

    Storyteller nodded thoughtfully. ¡°I see. That makes a certain sense. Nevertheless, such a small and localized connection to the Chained World is¡­¡± The odd man trailed off thoughtfully, then shook his head in an active effort to derail the train of thought. ¡°Apologies, we can talk about the barrens later. To return to my point, I was in the area simply to investigate some rumors I had heard and to kill any outsiders that had manifested in these barrens of yours. Cadence¡¯s appearance was a surprise even to me.¡±

    ¡°And what makes you think my child¡¯s poor decision is some grand act of fate? She¡¯s a rebellious teenager who made a foolish choice. I doubt that¡¯s some cosmically significant event.¡±

    ¡°Mother!¡± Cadence tried to defend herself. ¡°I only-¡±

    ¡°Quiet,¡± Ryme snapped, her voice heated once again as she turned on Cadence. ¡°Defend it however you want, it was irresponsible. If not for this vagabond,¡± Ryme indicated Storyteller with a vague hand, ¡°you¡¯d be dead in an ogre¡¯s stomach right now.¡±

    Cadence flushed, but knew better than to try to argue with her mother when she was angry. The girl settled back in her chair with a guilty flush, eyes downcast once more.

    Storyteller watched the exchange silently, waiting until Cadence had relented under her mother¡¯s anger before interjecting. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind, Mistress Ryme, I would actually like to hear her reasoning.¡±

    Ryme¡¯s glare shot back to the odd man, the fire from earlier clearly refreshed, while Cadence looked up with a disbelieving stare at the man. After a tense moment, Ryme waved to Cadence, granting her reluctant permission to continue.

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    Cadence cleared her throat and continued, ¡°Uhm¡­ well. I¡¯ve been wondering about the barrens forever. And my mo¡­¡± Cadence gave Ryme a guilty look, then rapidly changed her sentence, ¡°the hunters wouldn¡¯t tell any of us what was up there. They just said the barrens were dangerous, and that was that.¡±

    Storyteller nodded along. ¡°Okay, I follow so far. But¡­ you¡¯re of age to get your gifts. Why not just wait? I¡¯m sure your mother and the other hunters would loop you in once you joined their ranks.¡±

    Cadence flushed even darker, her reasoning seeming unbelievably childish in the face of the day¡¯s events. She rapidly tried to come up with a better excuse, but in the face of the two intense stares directed at her, she could barely think straight. Reluctantly, she accepted that she¡¯d just have to tell the truth.

    ¡°Well¡­ If I just got told, it wouldn¡¯t have been as satisfying, I guess.¡± She admitted.

    Ryme¡¯s jaw tightened with dissatisfaction, but before she could say anything, Storyteller asked, ¡°As if an answer freely given was less valuable than an answer hard earned?¡±

    Cadence looked at the man in surprise. ¡°Y-yeah! Yeah, that¡¯s just it! I wanted to find out for myself, not just hear the answer from someone else!¡±

    Ryme¡¯s attention had fully shifted to Storyteller now. ¡°What are you implying, sir?¡±

    Storyteller gave Felisen¡¯s chief hunter only the briefest look before continuing his stream of questions. ¡°Cadence, would you mind removing your arm guard?¡± He asked, gesturing at the hard leather cuff that went up either side of her forearm. It was the same one the little bramble-spawn had grabbed that afternoon, still marred by the pinpricks of the thorny vines.

    Cadence looked at her mother, confused by the request, but Ryme nodded for her to do so. Brow furrowed, the girl quickly untied the laces that held the hardened leather in place and slid the armguard off.

    ¡°Roll your sleeve up please,¡± Storyteller instructed, ¡°and show us the inside of your wrist.¡± His voice was still gentle, but his attention was intense. Cadence could swear she felt his focus like a physical pressure.

    Cadence did so, then gasped. On the formerly pristine skin of her wrist, a simple black tattoo had appeared. It was a pair of lines in an odd, but clearly defined pattern. She had never seen anything like it, but it was obvious where it had come from. It was a brand, the physical mark made by a gift when it was bestowed. She had seen her mother¡¯s before, and a few others around town, but never one like this.

    Storyteller slid to his knees, in front of Cadence, eyes intent on the tattoo. ¡°Well¡­ that is quite something.¡±

    Cadence raised her eyebrows at Storyteller¡¯s tone. Since the moment they met, Storyteller had seemed unshakably confident, but now, he sounded confused, even cautious.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know that brand¡­¡± Ryme muttered, but neither Cadence nor Storyteller acknowledged her words.

    The enigmatic man looked up from Cadence¡¯s outstretched wrist. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t have any gifts at all? Maybe a couple you raised to Initiate without telling me?¡±

    ¡°Uhm¡­ yes. Yes, I am relatively sure I didn¡¯t somehow accidentally obtain and level up two gifts without noticing it.¡±

    Storyteller frowned, and looked back down at the marks. ¡°Well. I suppose the easy answer wouldn¡¯t be any fun, would it?¡±

    The man stood up and gave a satisfied sigh. The moment of intensity had passed, and his eyes were already drifting off like the conversation was settled. ¡°Now Mistress Ryme, where do you think I can get a good dinner for the night? A room would be nice, too.¡±

    Cadence and Ryme blinked once at the man at the same time. Their shock made the resemblance between mother and daughter obvious.

    ¡°Storyteller!¡± Ryme burst out, for once not stumbling on the name.

    ¡°C-can you tell me what gift this is? Or where it came from? Or why it¡¯s weirding you out so much?¡± Cadence asked.

    Storyteller¡¯s eyes flicked from Ryme to her daughter, his face pensive. ¡°Hmm¡­ that¡¯s a lot of questions. I think I can answer two, but I¡¯d much rather hear you answer the first.¡± His sharp yellow eyes glittered, though Cadence couldn¡¯t tell if it was with amusement or something darker. ¡°It is your gift, after all. Just ask yourself, what gift do you think it is?¡±

    Cadence¡¯s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before she spit out, ¡°How am I supposed to know!? It¡¯s not like I¡­ I¡­¡± The teenager¡¯s words trailed off, her eyes drifting down to the intricate brand on her wrist. Suddenly, it didn¡¯t just look like a vague pair of lines. It was almost like¡­ a road, winding aimlessly off into the horizon. ¡°It¡¯s the gift of the wanderer.¡± Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

    ¡°Good.¡± Storyteller¡¯s voice was suddenly very close¨Cwhile Cadence had been entranced by the tattoo, the adventurer had crouched back down in front of her. ¡°It¡¯s part of your soul now, Cadence.¡± There was no absent distraction or teasing in the man¡¯s voice now. He was fully intent. It was unsettling, how quickly and abruptly he seemed to change personalities.

    ¡°Now, as for your other two questions¡­ They are excellent ones, and I fear the only answers I have will prove at least mildly dissatisfactory. You see, the gift of the wanderer is granted by the Adventurer archetype¨Cbut it is limited to those who have opened their Initiate slot, which you most certainly have not.¡±

    Cadence gasped. Even if she hadn¡¯t had any gifts, Cadence was familiar with how leveling worked. When you first received your gifts, you could only get two of them. You had to level each of them from Novice to Apprentice, then to Initiate, like Ryme, before you could accept your third gift and begin to progress to Adept. ¡°B-but¡­ but that¡¯s not¡­ I don¡¯t have any gifts!¡± Cadence insisted.

    ¡°Mhm, that would appear to be the case. It¡¯s quite the mystery.¡±

    ¡°Then how is it possible!?¡±

    ¡°An excellent question. I don¡¯t know.¡± Storyteller stood up, and Cadence noticed again how tall he was. Though slender, he towered a foot taller than even Ryme. Crouching, he had been on eye level with Cadence while she was seated. Standing, he loomed overhead.

    His eyes were sapphire chips of ice when he inspected Cadence. Hadn¡¯t they been yellow earlier? And brown before that?

    ¡°Gifts are magic, even if they are a limited and well controlled form of it. You¡¯ll find that with magic, as with most things, every rule has its exceptions.¡± Storyteller shrugged. ¡°The gift of the wanderer, to the best of my knowledge, is granted by surviving a journey to a dangerous place, undertaken for no greater reason than curiosity and wanderlust. I would say that accurately describes your little escapade in the barrens, Initiate or no.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ but¡­ I only survived that because of you!¡± Cadence insisted, feeling the burning of futile tears in her eyes.

    ¡°Yes, yes. But never underestimate the power of luck¡­ or, to bring our conversation full circle, that of fate.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Ryme said, her first words in a few minutes now. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of this Adventurer archetype.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunate, but not unexpected,¡± Storyteller replied. He sighed and sat down on a chair. Now that his more intense personality had faded into the background again, he seemed almost sleepy, his eyes half-lidded and brown yet again. ¡°I expect you know of the more common archetypes then? The Warrior, the Mage, the Primal?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Ryme replied, the words clipped. ¡°I know we have the bad luck to be uneducated frontier citizens, but we do know a few things.¡±

    ¡°Mother!¡± Cadence gasped. ¡°He¡¯s trying to explain, please!¡±

    Ryme looked at her daughter, and guilt showed through her anger for a moment. She nodded to Storyteller. ¡°My apologies. You didn¡¯t deserve that.¡±

    Storyteller grinned easily, his unremarkable brown eyes seeming only half-focused. ¡°It¡¯s okay. You¡¯ve both had a long day. My point is, while everyone in the Realm can list off a few of the archetypes, some of them are lesser known. Which archetype gave you your gift?¡±

    ¡°I have the gift of the hunter, from the Elder,¡± Ryme replied instantly.

    ¡°Just so. Not all archetypes are as grand and universal as those that govern the heat of combat, the art of magic, or nature itself. The Elder caters to those who live on their own, or in villages like this one, and gives gifts like the hunter, the farmer, or the laborer. An upjumped noble, coddled in the comfort of a bastion city, would be hard-pressed to earn the Elder¡¯s notice. The Adventurer is similarly limited in scope, but he caters to those who travel the land. He gives gifts like the bard, the rebel, or,¡± Storyteller waved a hand at Cadence, ¡°the wanderer.¡±

    Ryme subsided, and gave her daughter a look of mingled worry and thought. ¡°I see¡­¡± Cadence had never heard her mother sound so concerned before, and it sent insecure flutters through her.

    ¡°So¡­ this archetype is Adventurer as in, you know, adventurers? He¡¯s the archetype of story book heroes?¡± Cadence couldn¡®t help but ask the question. She had gotten a gift from the Adventurer¨Cdid that mean she was going to be an adventurer too?

    Storyteller answered with a small, indulgent smile and little more. ¡°I believe I¡¯ve given both of you enough to think about for one night. I¡¯ll take my leave for now.¡±

    ¡°Will you be staying in town?¡± Ryme asked before Cadence could.

    Cadence looked at her mother warily, confused by the eagerness that had prompted such a fast response.

    Storyteller nodded. ¡°I will. We¡¯ll need to talk tomorrow about why I came here in the first place, if nothing else.¡± His gaze returned to Cadence, concern apparent in his warm brown eyes. ¡°It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Cadence. And yourself, Mistress Ryme. I¡¯ll see you in the morning.¡±

    Without another word, the tall, strange man soundlessly paced to the door and slipped into the cool night air, leaving Cadence alone with her mother.

 Chapter 11 - Cadence

    Ryme looked at the door for a lingering moment, then sighed. Without a word, she stood and crossed to the wood stove in one corner of their little cottage. A bottle of water went in the kettle, which she placed on top of the stove. Cadence, equally silent, moved to the box that sat next to the door, and picked out several pieces of thick tinder. She used one to lift the latch on the stove¡¯s grate and slid it open with a loud squeal. Cadence added wood to the stove while Ryme began to bundle several dried herbs¨Cincluding a few small glintcaps¨Cinto a soft cloth tea bag.

    Both relaxed a little, the familiar evening routine wearing away some of the anxieties of the day and the worries born of their conversation with Storyteller. Neither spoke for the ten minutes it took to boil the water, steep the tea, and pour two cups.

    Finally, after she had blown on her tea and taken a small sip, Cadence asked, ¡°Mother¡­ What are attributes?¡±

    Ryme looked up from her own cup of tea, and smiled slightly. ¡°Right. These are the sort of things that I had planned to teach you this summer, once you had finished your trial hunt.¡± Cadence¡¯s mother took a slow sip of her tea. ¡°But I suppose now is as good a time as any. And I suspect if I don¡¯t answer your questions, you¡¯ll never get to sleep, will you?¡±

    Cadence smiled, and didn¡¯t bother to answer. Her mother knew how fixated she could get on a topic, once her interest was piqued.

    ¡°Attributes are a way of measuring your physical and mental capabilities,¡± Ryme explained. ¡°They can go up slowly on their own, through training or natural inclination, but they are also heavily affected by gifts.¡±

    ¡°Because a gift opens my soul to absorb magic, right?¡±

    Ryme didn¡¯t seem too surprised that Cadence had managed to pick some of these things up on her own. ¡°Exactly. Gifts allow your soul to soak in the magic around you, and that magic has to go somewhere. So attributes control how that magic affects you, based on the gifts you¡¯ve accepted.¡±

    Ryme paused for a moment, putting her tea cup down and rolling up the sleeve of her tunic. High on her upper arm was a black tattoo in the shape of an eye, above a distinctive paw print¨Cher own brands. ¡°My gift of the hunter, for example, gives me a moderate boon to my awareness and coordination, while my gift of the bear gives me a major boon to my strength.¡± She rolled her sleeve back down, and peered at Cadence curiously. ¡°What about you? Do you know what attributes the gift of the wanderer gave you?¡±

    Cadence nodded. Her eyes were drawn back to the brand on her wrist as she explained, ¡°It was what made Storyteller realize I had gotten a gift at all. We got all the way back from the barrens, and I wasn¡¯t even tired.¡±

    ¡°Stamina,¡± Ryme said. ¡°That¡¯s the attribute that controls things like physical endurance. A lot of the others in town have it¨Cit¡¯s how Havershaw and his boys stay out in the fields all day. The gift of the farmer and the laborer both give a similar boost.¡±

    ¡°It also raised my awareness,¡± Cadence added. ¡°You have that one too, right? What does it do?¡±

    Ryme blew out a breath. ¡°Awareness is¡­ hard to explain. Half of the attributes¨Cstrength, stamina, resilience, coordination, and speed¨Care physical. Their effects are obvious, the magic just enhances your body¡¯s abilities in certain ways. The mental attributes are more complicated.¡± Ryme¡¯s smile turned a shade rueful. ¡°Storyteller might be able to explain those better than I can. Suffice to say, awareness is somewhere between physical and mental. It is associated with your senses and perception. It makes your eyesight better, your hearing sharper, your skin more sensitive. But it also makes your mind better able to process the information you get from them. It¡¯s like¡­¡± Ryme trailed off for a moment, then shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t explain it. But you¡¯ll see, the more you try it out.¡±

    Cadence pursed her lips and wiggled her fingers a little bit, examining them distrustfully. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different¡­¡± She said.

    ¡°That¡¯s because your gift is only Novice level,¡± Ryme explained. ¡°The bonus it gives is still low. What¡¯s your awareness score now?¡±

    Cadence tried to remember¨Cbut as soon as she considered the question, her attributes from earlier popped up again. It was odd, like the words were floating right in front of her, but somehow without blocking her view of her mother.

    Cadence of Felisen

    Level: Pre-Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Wanderer] - +3 to stamina and awareness

    Attributes:

    Strength: 4

    Resilience: 4

    Stamina: 9 (6+3)

    Coordination: 6

    Speed: 5

    Will: 5

    Knowledge: 4

    Focus: 4

    Awareness: 9 (6+3)

    Charm: 5

    ¡°Nine,¡± she answered. ¡°It says I have a plus three from my gift?¡±

    ¡°That sounds about right. Ten is generally considered the peak an attribute can get without magical assistance, so nine is still inside human norms, if only just. As you level up, your soul will get stronger, and your gifts will be more able to let magic in. That¡¯s when you start to really leave behind your natural limits.¡±

    The conversation seemed to be relaxing her mother, and Cadence found herself getting more comfortable as well. Now that she finally had her gifts, she had a thousand questions, and it seemed her mother was more than happy to give her answers. In fact, Cadence realized, it was the first time she had ever felt like her mother was talking to her as a person, instead of just a child. It was an odd, but validating feeling, even if she hadn¡¯t gotten the gift she had planned on.

    ¡°What about your abilities?¡± Ryme asked, leaning forward in her chair in interest. ¡°What can this gift of the wanderer actually do?¡±

    Cadence blinked in surprise. ¡°Um¡­ I don¡¯t know? What should it do?¡±

    Ryme¡¯s lips twitched, and she actually let out a tiny snort of amusement. ¡°Even at Novice level, your gift should give you two other powers, in addition to your passive attribute boon. Think about it just like you did with your attributes, you should be able to tell.¡±

    Cadence frowned thoughtfully, but did just that, focusing on her gift of the wanderer and its abilities. Instantly, new text appeared before her, just like her attributes had.

    [Gift of the Wanderer]

    Novice level

    Experience: -%

    Explore new places to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Know Direction] - Active, Utility - Learn the direction of true north. No cost.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] - Active, Utility - Learn rudimentary knowledge about any single target. May not work on exceptional or rare targets. Minor focus cost per use.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Mantle] - Boon - Moderate boost to stamina and awareness.

    Cadence read the two abilities aloud to her mother, her voice growing increasingly disappointed as she did. ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± she asked when she finished. ¡°Those are¡­ nothing! How am I supposed to fight things with abilities like that?¡±

    Ryme chuckled at Cadence¡¯s pouting expression. ¡°There¡¯s more to life than killing things, Cadence. Sometimes I wish I had a utility gift like that. Sure, two combat gifts would be great the handful of times you actually need to fight some big nasty, but what about the rest of the time? That¡¯s the kind of gift you¡¯ll be able to use every day. Besides, maybe this gift is right for you after all¨Cone ability to keep you from getting lost when you go wandering about, and one to answer some of those endless questions in your head.¡±

    Cadence opened her mouth to retort, then hesitated, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. She swung her eyes around the cottage briefly before her gaze landed on her mother¡¯s unstrung greatbow, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. In the same way that she had called up the ability description, she focused on her Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge power¨Cand suddenly, more text appeared.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] activated

    Greatbow (unstrung) - Mundane - Ranged weapon designed for a wielder with magically enhanced strength.

    ¡°Really?¡± Cadence said out loud, surprised.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know your bow was made special for your strength attribute,¡± Cadence told her.

    Ryme looked from her bow to Cadence a couple times before she nodded in understanding. ¡°So that falls under rudimentary knowledge, hm? Yeah, Callahan had to make me a new one every time I leveled up, to keep up with my strength.¡± Ryme tilted her head, studying Cadence. ¡°That ability might be worth experimenting with, to figure out what counts as ¡®rudimentary.¡¯¡±

    Cadence nodded her agreement before her mother added, ¡°Tomorrow, that is. It¡¯s getting late as it is, and I suspect tomorrow won¡¯t be any easier for either of us than today. We should get to bed.¡±

    Cadence bit back a complaint, knowing how immature it would make her sound. But then¡­ her mother had been treating her more like an equal now, right? Because she had a gift? Maybe it was worth a try. ¡°I think¡­ I¡¯d like to take a little walk before bed, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    Ryme was already halfway to the wash basin before she heard the question. She turned carefully, one eyebrow arched suspiciously. Cadence could see her mother bite back her own initial response. Both of them were having a hard time breaking sixteen years of routine, but they both knew that their dynamic was due to change, now that Cadence had become gifted.

    ¡°I need to clear my head after all of this,¡± Cadence insisted.

    Ryme considered for a moment, then sighed. ¡°Of course you do. Fine. Just¡­ try to stay in the village this time? For me?¡±

    Cadence grinned and nodded. She stopped to grab a dark cloak on her way out, knowing the night air had likely chilled since she got inside, then hesitated at the door. She turned to face Ryme, and quietly asked,  ¡°Mom¡­ do you think I can really be an adventurer?¡±

    Ryme looked up from the basin, a look of worry clear on her normally resolute face. ¡°Maybe, Cadence. But¡­ the real world isn¡¯t like stories. You know that. Stories don¡¯t just end happily ever after, and heroes don¡¯t really just wander the Realm, saving¡­¡± Ryme paused, looking at her daughter, as she realized what she was saying.

    Cadence felt the need to say it anyways. ¡°But Storyteller really did kill that ogre. He showed up, out of nowhere, and he saved me.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Yes, it seems he did.¡±

    Cadence looked at her mother for a long moment, then swallowed thickly and added, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. For worrying you like that.¡±

    Ryme turned a weary smile on her daughter, and for a moment, every one of her nearly forty years showed through the rejuvenating effects of her gifts. ¡°I¡¯m happy you¡¯re okay, Cadie. And I love you. No matter what.¡±

    Cadence smiled back. ¡°I love you too, mom.¡± Then she slipped out of the door, her head too full of thoughts of gifts and attributes and leveling to really consider Ryme¡¯s words.

    #

    Cadence¡¯s footsteps carried her down the winding stone path that led to her mother¡¯s remote cottage, then up the hill next to the house. Normally, her heart would¡¯ve been pounding and she would¡¯ve been a little short of breath by the time she made it to the top of the hill, but this time, Cadence barely seemed to notice the exertion. ¡°I could get used to this stamina boon,¡± she decided happily.

    Atop the hill was a ring of long stone columns, lain on their sides and carved flat along the top. In the center was a massive and carefully maintained fire pit, an artistic creation of wrought iron and carved stone that resembled an intricate series of vines. When illuminated from the inside, the firelight would dance along the designs, creating the illusion of burning brambles, but tonight, the fire pit sat dark. It was lit only rarely, for large gatherings and festivals, but Cadence had always enjoyed going up to the bonfire hill anyways. Everyone in the village knew the spot when it was warm and bright and merry, but she fancied that she was the only one who truly knew it when it was cool and dark and serene. That dichotomy suited her.

    Cadence settled on one of the columns, facing away from the fire pit. She had always loved the view from the hilltop. Below, the buildings of Felisen lay scattered across the valley. Though it was all she had ever known, Cadence knew it was a small town. It numbered less than two hundred people, mostly families who lived in the scattering of houses, independent artisans and craftspeople who lived above or behind their workshops, and a couple communal bunk houses packed with the laborers who helped to work the fields and harvest lumber. Collectively, the flickering torches, wavering candles, and steady heat lanterns turned the valley into a blanket of glittering lights.

    Those lights trailed out from the center of the town like the tail of a comet, gradually petering out. They marked the road, always kept lit for travelers and merchants, and the way out to the half-dozen farmhouses set along the acres of tilled fields. On the far side of the village, opposite the bonfire hill, the fat, low-hanging moon illuminated a curved line that the lights didn¡¯t penetrate, a curling arm that held the sparkling gems of Felisen close to its chest. The wood.

    Cadence knew the view by heart. It was her world. It was the world her mother had dedicated herself to protecting. Cadence had always expected to follow in Ryme¡¯s footsteps¨Cbut she had never known how to tell her mother she also wanted to see more of the Realm. To have a world larger than a few dozen miles.

    ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful view,¡± Storyteller said.

    Cadence didn¡¯t jump. Her improved awareness helped her distinguish shapes even in the darkness, and she had noticed the looming shadow occupying the next stone bench to her left before she sat down. ¡°It¡¯s like a piece of art,¡± Cadence agreed. ¡°But¡­ I think, no matter how beautiful a painting is, you would get bored if you looked at it every day, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±

    Storyteller stood, and moved to sit next to Cadence. ¡°Did you talk about your gift with your mother?¡±

    Cadence nodded. Somehow, she knew Storyteller could see the insecurity on her face. ¡°She wasn¡¯t upset at least,¡± she told him. ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°She assumes you¡¯re going to stay here?¡±

    Cadence looked up with a start. That was exactly it. That was the nameless, formless anxiety that had grown within her since she had found out about her gift. ¡°How did you know?¡±

    ¡°Your gift,¡± Storyteller told her, as if it was obvious. ¡°The Adventurer generally doesn¡¯t bless those who plan to spend their life in one place.¡±

    Cadence bit her bottom lip and looked away, back towards the glittering lights of Felisen. ¡°What do you think I should do?¡±

    Storyteller chuckled dryly. His amusement reminded Cadence she had only known the peculiar man for less than a day¨Ceven if, in that time, he had saved her life. ¡°That¡¯s not my decision to make Cadence, anymore than it¡¯s your mother¡¯s.¡± He spent a long moment considering his words before he continued. ¡°You could have a good life here. Get the gift of the hunter, like your mother. Of course, you¡¯re going to end up roaming around anyways, with a gift like the wanderer, but I have no doubt that by Initiate, you could be a local hero. A ranger, roaming from town to town, pitching in against threats like that ogre. You could do much to make this region safer for its people.¡±

    ¡°You think I should stay here then?¡± Cadence asked, a little disappointed. She¡¯d be lying if she said that she wasn¡¯t drawn to the ideas he proposed, but she hadn¡¯t expected Storyteller to side with her mother. After all, it hadn¡¯t been a warden or a hunter that saved her. It had been an adventurer.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that,¡± Storyteller replied immediately.

    ¡°Then¡­ you think I could be an adventurer? Like in the stories?¡± Cadence asked.

    Storyteller sighed, the sound deeply tired. ¡°Anyone can be an adventurer, Cadence. All it requires is the desire to see the world and to help people you don¡¯t know. And, perhaps, skin thick enough to ignore some judgemental looks.¡±

    Cadence couldn¡¯t help but giggle at the exasperation that crept into his voice. ¡°Is it¡­ a good life?¡±

    ¡°I would do it all again, if I had the chance. But then, I have the gift of the wanderer too.¡± Storyteller looked at her, and the moon overhead caught his eyes. They were yellow now, and seemed to glow dimly in the ambient moonlight.

    Sometimes, when he looked at her in just the right way, it was like Storyteller was staring into her soul itself¨Cand approving of what he found there. It made her shiver a little bit, but she couldn¡¯t deny that she sort of liked it.

    ¡°Cadence¡­¡± He spoke carefully, like a man worried his voice would spook a cat. ¡°What if I told you I had a gift no one else did? One granted by no archetype. A gift that gave me abilities unlike those possessed by anyone else in the Realm. The same gift that allowed me to save you, earlier today. What would you say to that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯d say that¡¯s impossible,¡± Cadence responded. She felt a little breathless under the weight of that stare.. ¡°But¡­ I¡¯d also say every rule has an exception. Right?¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s mouth quirked at one corner, turning up into the ghost of a smirk. ¡°You learn quick. Good. Now¡­ What if I told you I could bestow this very gift on you?¡± Those eyes, unnatural and intriguing, held her gaze tightly. ¡°You could gain both of your Novice gifts in a single day, one of them unique, the other impossible.¡±

    ¡°Like¡­ like a relic gift?¡± Cadence had heard of those. Her mother had used totems looted from the magically altered beasts she had defeated over the years to get her gift of the bear. Cadence knew there was another hunter too, whose father, the carpenter Callahan, had given him a magic spear that had bestowed a different gift to him.

    There was a swish of fabric as Storyteller¡¯s shadowed head shook. ¡°No. This is no trifling toy, made to appease the lazy and the desperate; nor is it a simple totem collected from a fallen monster. The gift of the echo would mark you for greatness¨Cfor a fate far grander than this little town.¡±

    The gift of the echo. Cadence chewed her bottom lip. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. You can bestow this gift? But it¡¯s not a relic?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain it all, Cadence. I told you there is an exception to every rule, but even I don¡¯t understand the rules surrounding the echo. But suffice to say, yes. I can bestow this gift, a single time, to a single person. And if you¡¯d like, I would be happy to give it to you.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The same reason I told your mother. Fate.¡±

    Cadence remembered watching Storyteller fight the ogre. The way he had stared down the massive beast without fear, the sheer ease with which he had slain it. Was that because of this gift? The gift of the echo?

    A gift even Storyteller didn¡¯t fully understand. A gift no one else in the world had or even knew about.

    The ultimate mystery, one Cadence would need to spend a lifetime to understand.

    How could she say no to that?

    Storyteller, Master of the Echo has offered you the [Gift of the Echo].

    Do you accept?

    Yes / No

    Once accepted, gifts can never be relinquished.

    Novice gifts: 1/2

 Chapter 12 - Cadence

    When Cadence woke up the next morning, the events of the previous day had melted together into one big blur. Her hike, the struggle with the bramble-spawn, the ogre in the barrens, Storyteller¡¯s rescue, the long conversation with her mother. It was all too much for the exhausted girl to keep straight. But she had no problem remembering how the night had ended.

    Still lying on her back on her sleeping pallet, she held her arm up over her face. The brands on her wrist drew a sense of satisfaction from her like nothing else ever had. The gift of the wanderer was still there, as it had been the day before, a simple pair of black lines suggesting a road winding off to the horizon. But now, above it, was a new brand. Light blue semi-circles, just barely not connecting, were layered into a circular design reminiscent of a ripple in a still pool. Positioned above the meandering path of the wanderer brand, it gave the impression of a distant and magical sun at the end of the road.

    Her mother was going to kill her when she found out that Cadence had accepted a second gift from Storyteller, but it was worth it. She felt amazing, in a way she couldn¡¯t quite place. It was like her body and mind alike were refreshed in a way that was hard to describe. Some of that, she was sure, was due to the stamina boost her gift of the wanderer gave her, but that alone couldn¡¯t account for the crystalline feeling of potential that ran through Cadence¡¯s soul. As if reacting to her thoughts, the description of her new gift appeared before her eyes.

    [Gift of the Echo]

    Novice level

    Experience: 0%

    Use abilities on unique targets to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Gift Reflection] - Active, Soul - Copy one gift ability from a nearby target. Gift abilities operate at Novice level regardless of the target¡¯s level. Abilities from certain gifts cannot be copied. This ability has a one hour cool down, but the copied ability is retained until it is used again.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    [Soul Empowerment] - Boon - Minor boost to all attributes.

    Storyteller had been right¨CCadence had never even heard of a gift quite like this one, and she doubted anyone else had either. She decided the odd energy she was feeling must¡¯ve been from her new boon ability. Her mother had explained that most gifts only benefited a few attributes, but the sensation of having all of her mental and physical traits boosted, even only slightly, was electrifying. It was like she had spent her entire life half asleep, and suddenly she had just woken up. Her body moved more easily in every way, her mind felt clearer than ever. Her mother could get as mad as she wanted¨CCadence had made her choice, and the gift of the echo was hers now.

    The abilities were intriguing. As far as she knew, most gifts, especially at low levels, were supposed to give simple, straight forward effects. But copying abilities? Boosting her attributes at will? She had to actively keep herself from activating Soul Surge, curious as she was to see what a major boost would feel like. How fast could she move with a giant boost to her speed score like that? Cadence made a fist with the hand in front of her face, and she grinned at the idea of how strong she could become at a moment¡¯s notice. It was perfect. She had complained about her lack of combat abilities the gift of the wanderer had given her, but now¡­

    Now she had a power set she¡¯d never get bored of, a gift even Storyteller hadn¡¯t mastered!

    ¡°Cadence! Time to wake up!¡±

    Her mother¡¯s voice shook Cadence out of her reverie, and quickly hopped to her feet. Even that motion made her smile with satisfaction¨Cher strength propelled her every movement, her speed made her body more reactive, her coordination kept her balance perfect. Everything felt so easy now! And this was just a minor boost, at Novice level? What would it be like to level up?

    Cadence looked around her room, drinking in the details in the grain of the wooden walls and the weave of the little rug she had never noticed before. She took a deep breath, and the smell of the fresh air outside the shuttered window filled her nose. It smelled the same as it had when she was in the forest the day before¨Cbut now she could smell it all the way from her bedroom!

    A wide smile still stretching her face, Cadence slipped on the soft doeskin shoes her mother made for her the year before. They fit snugly, but had worn to the shape of her feet perfectly, fitting like a second skin. She all but pranced out of her room, taking pleasure in every movement, swinging her arms and even twirling a couple times, delighting in the feeling of her new body.

    ¡°Morning mom!¡± she greeted Ryme as she skipped into the central room of their cottage.

    Ryme looked up from where she was sitting, a finely-honed knife in one hand, a stick destined to become an arrow in the other, and gave her daughter a weary smile. ¡°Well, doesn¡¯t someone look happy this morning?¡± she observed dryly.

    Cadence giggled in reply, and Ryme huffed a breath of amusement out of her nose. ¡°I was the same way when I got my gifts. That stamina boon must be the perfect thing to get going in the morning.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s amazing!¡± Cadence replied enthusiastically. She took a breath, wanting to tell her mother about her second gift, but remembered Storyteller¡¯s words the night before, and stopped herself.

    ¡°I¡¯d ask you to keep this to yourself for the moment,¡± he said after the short ritual that had marked Cadence¡¯s soul with the gift of the echo. ¡°Your mother deserves to know, but she¡¯ll have other things on her mind in the morning. We¡¯ll talk with her about it soon.¡±

    Cadence chewed her lip, torn for a moment. Lying to her mother had never come naturally to Cadence, and she had learned early that Ryme¡¯s senses were far too sharp to fool easily, but for now she decided to follow Storyteller¡¯s suggestion. Fortunately, Ryme seemed too busy fussing over her arrows to notice the hesitation. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to take a run, okay?¡±

    ¡°Really? Starting your morning with a run? Doesn¡¯t sound like the Cadence I know.¡± Ryme chuckled softly, turning back to her fletching.

    Cadence rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. ¡°I just¡­ I wanna try out my new stamina! See how far I can push it!¡±

    Ryme nodded, not looking up. ¡°Fine. Grab an apple first though, you don¡¯t have enough stamina to go without food yet.¡±

    Cadence blinked in surprise¨Cthat was a thing stamina did? She hadn¡¯t even noticed her lack of hunger, even though she generally woke up with an appetite.

    ¡°Actually, you can do me a favor while you¡¯re out,¡± Ryme told Cadence while she grabbed a fresh apple from the woven basket sitting by the oven. ¡°I don¡¯t know what Storyteller has to say about the town, but he implied it was important. Since you¡¯re taking a run anyways, would you mind finding the other hunters and asking them to meet me at the bonfire hill for noon?¡±

    Cadence nodded easily. ¡°Sure!¡± she said, already turning for the door with a wave. ¡°See you in a little bit!¡±

    Ryme turned back to her whittling, and Cadence was halfway to town before she realized that Ryme had actually phrased the favor as a request, not a command. She didn¡¯t quite know what to make of that.

    #

    Cadence barrelled through town, too busy rejoicing in her newfound stamina to bother slowing down, even as her stride hit the more densely populated streets of Felisen itself. It was half a mile from her house to the edge of town, but she barely felt winded! Her bonuses to strength, speed, and coordination may have been small, but combined with her more significant stamina boon from the gift of the wanderer, she felt like she was all but flying over the hard packed dirt road. For a moment, she considered using her Soul Surge to try out a real boost to her speed, but she decided to refrain for now.

    Besides, she decided, Felisen isn¡¯t big enough to really cut loose!

    Her first stop was the Honeyed Pear, the town¡¯s tavern and inn. As always, a few of the hunters were staying there, single men with no family and no need for a home to themselves, even if they could likely afford it. Cadence¡¯s mother had explained once that they were more comfortable with the loggers they often escorted, and were happy to just live in the inn itself rather than keep up a home for themselves. As it meant reliable income, the innkeep and brewer, Arnold, had little problem with the arrangement.

    Cadence burst through the swinging door of the Pear at a pace only slightly slower than she had used on the street, and was greeted by a chorus of rough laughter that drew a wide smile from her. The tavern floor of the Honeyed Pear was as dim as always, lit only by the light coming through the entryway and a couple of opened shutters. Normally, she found the shadowy space unnerving, but today it felt oddly comfortable.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    She had always wondered why the three men preferred to drink in the darkened room when they were the only ones in the tavern, but now she understood. The hunter gift gave the same awareness boon as the wanderer gift, and all three hunters were higher level than she was. For her, the shadow-filled room was noticeably less stimulating than the bright, busy street outside. She assumed it would be an even more relaxing difference to their higher-leveled senses.

    One of the hunters, Denning, smiled at her, his teeth bright in the weak light¨Che had always had a habit of keeping them clean and white. The big man was the oldest and strongest of the three bachelor hunters, and second only to Ryme in the village¡¯s pecking order. Unlike most of the village hunters, he had spent some time in Correntry, the trade city closest to Felisen. That was where he claimed to have picked up the habit of polishing his teeth, as well as his gift of the brawler.

    ¡°Well if it isn¡¯t little Cadie!¡± he greeted her. For a large man in a rough trade, Cadence had always found Denning¡¯s voice oddly gentle. ¡°What brings you down here this fine morning?¡±

    ¡°And what¡¯s with all the running?¡± Smith asked.

    ¡°She got her first gift, dolt,¡± Markey added, winking at Cadence in a way she didn¡¯t entirely like. ¡°And about time too.¡±

    Smith and Markey were both half a dozen years older than Cadence, travelers who had blown into town several years before, both new to their gifts at the time. She suspected her mother and Denning were the only ones who knew where the pair had come from, but they had eagerly joined the village¡¯s hunters and had proven themselves often enough in the years since that no one questioned their background anymore¨Cthough no one seemed to go out of their way to keep them comfortable, either.

    Both of their eyes held a little bit of a predatory gleam Cadence had never liked, and her gifts hadn¡¯t changed that. Ryme claimed it was just a product of their shared gift of the wolf, but she still avoided being alone with them for too long.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Cadence answered evasively.

    Denning nodded respectfully at her answer, and put a large, firm hand on Smith¡¯s shoulder before he could say anything.

    ¡°Mom asked me to tell everyone she¡¯s going to call a meeting today, noon on the bonfire hill.¡±

    ¡°We just met yesterday,¡± Markey grumbled¨Cearning Denning¡¯s other hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think that if she needs to meet again already, it might be important?¡± Denning asked, his gruff tone making clear that he was being rhetorical. He looked back at Cadence and asked, ¡°This have something to do with that stranger from yesterday?¡± Like the rest of the hunters, Denning had helped Ryme when she was searching for Cadence the day before, and had briefly met Storyteller before Ryme sent everyone home.

    ¡°I think so,¡± Cadence answered honestly. ¡°She can tell you more, I gotta go find everyone else.¡±

    ¡°Aye, lass, good hunting.¡± As she turned for the door, Cadence heard the big man moving to his feet. ¡°C¡¯mon you two, time to wash up. You look like¡­ well, your normal scruffy selves, but let¡¯s see what we can do to polish you up.¡±

    When she emerged back outside, the morning sunshine was dazzling, and Cadence had to lift a hand to her eyes, but the sensation passed after just a second, fast enough that she found herself blinking in surprise. Her mother had mentioned that awareness helped her mind process her senses just as much as it improved the senses themselves, but it was still a little disorienting.

    Grinning to herself yet again at how much she was coming to love her new powers, the girl hit the streets, curving through town towards its southeastern edge. She only got up to a light jog this time¨Cher improved balance was nice, but she didn¡¯t trust it to keep her on her feet if she suddenly turned a corner on a wagon or a donkey. As she ran, she kept her nose to the air, sniffing tentatively, trying to sort through the new scents her boosted awareness let her notice. She didn¡¯t think her sense of smell had gotten that much sharper, not yet. Rather, it was more like she was able to better differentiate all the different smells that filled the air, instead of just the most potent.

    Dirt and woodsmoke, of course, were a patina covering everything. But there was so much more that she had never consciously noticed before! Depending on where she was, she could smell fresh baked bread, steaming herbs, or¡­ other things that were just as warm and fragrant but much less enjoyable. Cadence changed her route to start trying to consciously avoid the houses she knew kept mules or goats on their property.

    She was a block away from her next stop when the smell of sawdust started to leap to the foreground of her senses. That was how she knew she was getting close to her next goal, the largest house in Felisen. She tapered her jog to a stop, ending next to the ornate waist-high fence that marked Old Man Callahan¡¯s property line.

    Most of the town lived in a communal fashion, trading and sharing between them what they needed to thrive. Money was something kept mostly for trading with merchant caravans for luxuries the villagers couldn¡¯t make for themselves, sugar, spices, and potent varieties of tea being the most notable. Old Man Callahan was the exception to the rule. As an Initiate level carpenter, he was the most skilled tradesman in the town, and inarguably its wealthiest citizen due to his role in the town¡¯s bustling lumber trade. He was still known to be generous, especially come festival season, but no small piece of his wealth was put into the ever-growing manor that was his passion project.

    The old man himself was in the yard when Cadence approached, hard at work. He wore no shirt, and though age had begun to show its effects on the man, he was still far more heavily muscled than the majority of the laborers and farmers. Cadence had always wondered about that, but now, she expected it was because of a boosted attribute of some kind. As Cadence watched, the old man made a complex series of gestures at a large log that was standing before him, which ended with one hand thrust, heel out, at the log. His whole body visibly trembled with strain¨Cand suddenly, the log began to change.

    Its bark simply fell free, revealing the bright wood underneath. Then the log itself began to shift, its surface smoothing even as the most notable knots and bumps in the wood fell away as if sheared off. More sawdust filled the air. Soon, the log had become perfectly square to a side, and Callahan made another movement, this time a harsh chop straight at the ground. A terrible buzzing sound filled the air, and the log seemed to shift in place, then collapse. Cadence blinked in confusion. It took her a moment to realize that in the log''s place, a dozen and a half perfectly even planks were now leaning against the fenceline.

    She had realized that Callahan¡¯s wood and carpenter gifts allowed him to easily make simple objects in bulk, but still, she had never actually seen him at work before. Even as she stared in wonder, Callahan¡¯s gruff voice grabbed her attention, ¡°What do you want, Cadence? If you just came to watch me work, I¡¯m charging you for the show!¡±

    Cadence blushed slightly, and shook her head. ¡°No sir! My mother sent me out to let all the hunters know about a meeting.¡±

    ¡°You need the boy?¡± Callahan asked. Cadence nodded, and the older man turned back to the manor house. He lifted a hand to his mouth before he shouted, ¡°Brian! Get your skinny ass out here!¡±

    Cadence blushed a little deeper. Old Man Callahan had always been much more free with vulgarity than most of the adults in the village, and he had never really responded to any attempts to get him to stop.

    Cadence fidgeted in place for a moment, waiting for Callahan¡¯s son to appear, before she asked, ¡°Sir? Mister Callahan?¡± The old man looked up at her from where he sat, wiping sweat from his brow. ¡°You made Brian his spear right? The one that gave him his gift?¡±

    ¡°Aye, I did,¡± he acknowledged, peering at Cadence more closely. ¡°What, are you thinking about getting an ensouled item? I don¡¯t think your mother¡¯d care much for that!¡± The old man threw back his head in a bellowing laugh.

    Cadence shook her head nervously, thinking of her concerns about the gift of the echo the night before. ¡°No sir, not at all. I guess I was just¡­ curious how that worked. How does someone give a gift like that?¡±

    Callahan made a ¡°hmph¡± noise in the back of his throat. ¡°Ryme never explained that?¡±

    ¡°No sir. I just know she can¡¯t advance anymore because of her totem, I never really understood why.¡±

    Callahan nodded. ¡°I can see why that¡¯d be a sore subject for her.¡± The old man reached up to rub his chin, then shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see the harm in explaining. Now, I won¡¯t pretend to know all of it, but as I understand it, with most gifts, like my carpenter or your mother¡¯s hunter, one of the Divine Archetypes forks ¡®em over. ¡®Course, to get one, you gotta pass some test, and you gotta do more like that to level ¡®em up. So some people, they go a different way. An easier way, I guess you¡¯d call it, though it¡¯s worth it to a lot of people.

    ¡°See, certain physical items have enough magic to open a gift by themselves. For your mother, it was some sort of magic bear she killed for her first hunt. She got what you¡¯d call a totem from it¨Can item so filled with the monster¡¯s magic, she could take some of it for herself. The spear I made Brian is the same way, but I was the one who pumped it full of magic instead. An ensouled item, the cityfolk call it.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s it? They just buy or get some item and they get a gift just like that? No trial or anything?¡±

    ¡°Yep. But all things got a price, see? The only way you can advance a gift like that is to get a second item, like the first, but higher level. I¡¯m already working on the spear Brian¡¯ll need when he hits Apprentice, and then I¡¯ll have to start another for when he makes Initiate. Adept¡¯s the real hard part with those gifts. I¡¯m the best carpenter this side of the heartland, but I¡¯m still only Initiate level. I can¡¯t make the spear he¡¯d need to get to Adept level. Your mother¡¯s the same way¨Cshe managed to get Apprentice and Initiate totem for her bear gift, but now she¡¯s stuck. She won¡¯t be able to get to Adept unless she manages to find a real strong monster¨Cand it has to be a bear, at that. And she has to kill it. Till then, she¡¯s stuck.¡±

    Cadence chewed her bottom lip. ¡°Just like that? She can¡¯t level up anymore?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the way of it, lass. If you can get the items, relic gifts like that are mighty convenient. They let you level up easy n¡¯ fast. But there¡¯s a ceiling, and it¡¯s a hard one to overcome.¡± There was the sound of a door opening and slamming shut, and Callahan looked back towards the house. ¡°Ah, here''s my good for nothing son now!¡±

    Cadence had more questions, as always, but she held off on them as Brian came out of the house. As always, Felisen¡¯s youngest hunter made Cadence a little fidgety, even more than his father did. Brian had inherited some of his father¡¯s dark skin, and his blonde hair had flecks of the rusty red that Callahan must¡¯ve had when he was younger, but the old man¡¯s Westerletian colors were muted in his son by his mother¡¯s more fair colors. Together, they gave the athletic young man a compelling appearance that complemented his easy smile.

    ¡°Hey Cadie!¡± Brian greeted her.

    She awkwardly waved back, grimacing at the nickname. Felisen had few enough children that were her age. Brian and his sister, both two years older than her, were some of the closest. But those two years meant everything around gifting age, and Cadence had seen relatively little of the first boy she had ever anythinged since he joined the hunters.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she finally managed to respond. She knew he deserved more than that, but she didn¡¯t quite know how to express absolutely any of the churning emotions he inspired. ¡°So uh¡­ my mother¡¯s calling a hunter meeting at noon, she asked me to let everyone know.¡±

    Brian nodded. ¡°Bonfire hill?¡± he confirmed. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll be there.¡± Brian started forward, then hesitated. ¡°Hey¡­ are you alright? After yesterday? You gave us a scare.¡±

    Cadence managed a sheepish smile. ¡°Yeah. Actually¡­ I¡¯m kinda great.¡±

    Brian arched an eyebrow, and managed a small grin for her. ¡°Good to hear.¡± He reached up and tousled his own messy hair a little. ¡°Hey, I can take care of letting Murda know, okay? Make it a little easier on you.¡±

    Cadence fidgeted in place again, before she spit out an awkward, ¡°Okay, thanks. I¡¯ll see you this afternoon!¡±

    This time, she really started sprinting. It was convenient, Cadence admitted to herself, how quickly her new powers let her run away.

 Chapter 13 - Cadence

    Cadence was unsurprised to see Storyteller lounging casually in front of her cottage when she returned from running her circuit around the village. Even with Brian helping her find a couple of the hunters, finding all dozen of them had taken well over two hours, and the amount of running she had done had pushed the limits of even her new stamina boost. By the time she made it home, she was coated in a sheen of sweat, short of breath, and had dropped to a staggering walk.

    Storyteller made an amused noise when he saw her, his muddy brown eyes tracking her movements. ¡°Overdid it with your stamina boost?¡± he guessed.

    Cadence beamed. ¡°Maybe a little bit,¡± she admitted. ¡°But I didn¡¯t even need to use Soul Surge!¡±

    Both of Storyteller¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Really? Good for you. I think my first day with the echo, I used Surge so much I passed out.¡±

    Cadence laughed. ¡°Well, I guess I just have better judgment than you.¡±

    ¡°Elder forbid,¡± Ryme observed dryly as she stepped outside to join the two. ¡°What are you two talking about?¡±

    ¡°Cadence managed to keep herself from running until her stamina gave out. I wasn¡¯t so bright when I was her age,¡± Storyteller lied effortlessly.

    Ryme looked from the enigmatic man to the surprised look on Cadence¡¯s face, but after a moment seemed to decide against prying. ¡°Did you find everyone?¡± she asked Cadence instead.

    ¡°Mhm!¡±

    A little smirk appeared on Ryme¡¯s face when she added, ¡°Even Brian?¡±

    Cadence flushed instantly, and she mumbled, ¡°Yes mom, even Brian.¡±

    Storyteller turned his face to the wind, his eyes closed, allowing mother and daughter to enjoy their good-hearted bickering for a few moments. He knew such moments would be rare enough for them soon enough, and he suspected that at the very least, Ryme did too.

    Only once the conversation had wound down did Storyteller turn to Ryme. ¡°Mistress Ryme, would you permit me a possibly rude question?¡±

    Ryme sighed, but Cadence knew the sound was good-natured. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s stopped you before. But please, stop with the whole Mistress thing.¡±

    Storyteller frowned. ¡°Are you not the leader of this village?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have leaders in Felisen,¡± Ryme replied sharply. ¡°We take care of our own, that¡¯s all that matters.¡±

    Storyteller tilted his head briefly in a gesture that was not quite agreement. ¡°But still. When the hunters go out, you are the one who leads, yes?¡±

    ¡°Well-¡±

    ¡°And when people need help, you¡¯re the one they come to?¡±

    ¡°Sometimes-¡±

    ¡°And when you speak, people listen, right?¡±

    Ryme sighed. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m in charge or anything like that.¡±

    Storyteller made the same motion of polite disagreement. ¡°People need someone to follow, Mistress Ryme. Whether it¡¯s official or not, you lead these people, and you do it well.¡±

    Ryme sighed. ¡°You¡¯re a difficult man to argue with, Storyteller.¡±

    A fleeting smile danced across the man¡¯s features. ¡°I¡¯ve been told that before. But my point is, if you lead, why haven¡¯t you crossed to Adept level? I can feel that you¡¯ve reached Initiate on both of your gifts, but you haven¡¯t even taken a third.¡±

    Ryme look distinctly uncomfortable at the question, and she absently reached one arm across her chest to grab the other. It was a gesture of insecurity Cadence had never seen from her mother before, and it exposed the brand on the back of Ryme¡¯s shoulder, the clawmark and bow peeking out of the edge of her vest. ¡°There¡¯s no point,¡± Ryme finally answered simply. ¡°My gift of the bear will never reach Adept, so I never bothered to try to find a third gift.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Cadence interrupted, drawing looks from both of the older gift bearers. ¡°I know you get a third gift eventually, but how does it happen?¡±

    ¡°You only have two gift slots to start. Once you make it to Initiate level with both of those gifts, your third slot opens up.¡±

    ¡°And then that new gift needs to get all the way to Initiate before you can reach Adept,¡± Storyteller added. ¡°Which is why I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t taken one on, Mistress Ryme. Even if you¡¯re waiting on an Adept totem, you could¡¯ve gotten a new gift most of the way to Initiate by now.¡±

    Ryme shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re not from a village, are you Storyteller?¡±

    He considered for a moment, then shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve spent a fair amount of time around them, but no, I was born in one of the bastion cities.¡±

    ¡°I thought so.¡± The words could¡¯ve come out edged, but instead they were just¡­ tired. ¡°We found an Adept totem, a few years back. Fish too, not even a popular one. The beast killed two hunters before we took it down, and the totem provided the village enough money to take care of both families. The rest of it, we saved, and it provided for the village after a couple bramble-spawn tore up one of the fields.

    Cadence blinked in surprise. ¡°Really? Are Adept totems that valuable?¡±

    Storyteller nodded in confirmation. ¡°Adept relics in general are rare, regardless of their source. I¡¯m sure some sailor out in Westerlen was more than happy to pay for a totem like that.¡±

    Ryme hummed a soft agreement. ¡°That was when I stopped trying to level up,¡± she explained. ¡°Even if a bear capable of dropping an Adept totem spawned, how could I justify taking a totem like that, when it could feed the entire village for half a year?¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s eyes were serious. Cadence wasn¡¯t even surprised to note that they were that icy blue color again, the way they seemed to get when he was at his most focused. ¡°That¡¯s a selfless choice, Mistress Ryme,¡± he told her. ¡°But you¡¯re wrong. That¡¯s what I have to tell you and the other hunters. That monster I killed in the barrens will not be the last of its kind to emerge from that place. At the end of the day, there is no substitute for simple power. Very soon, an Adept may be the difference between life and death for this village.¡±

    #

    Cadence paced back and forth in the little cottage, alternately fretting at her hair, chewing her bottom lip, and trying to distract herself by using her new wanderer abilities to examine things in the room.

    That couldn¡¯t be true, could it? More ogres like the one Storyteller had killed attacking Felisen? Her mother being the only one who might stand between life and death for the village? Cadence desperately wanted to know more, but of course, only shortly after that conversation, she had been shooed away as noon approached. Now all the hunters were up on the hill, getting the story straight from Storyteller, and she was stuck in the house!

    Her mother had even told her that she couldn¡¯t go out on a hike or a run. She needed to stay close, so they could talk after the hunter meeting. But that was over an hour ago! Idly, Cadence picked up a bunch of glintcaps from one of the herb jars, and focused her Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge on it. The response was instant.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] activated

    Glintcap - Lesser reagent - Mushrooms infused with life aspected magic, provides healing aligned with resilience attribute.

    She had examined a dozen items around the cottage while she waited, but it was quickly losing its allure. Worse, this time, as she read the description, her head twinged with discomfort. It was like a sudden headache, like the kind she got when she stayed up too late reading by candlelight. With a groan, she laid back on her pallet and draped an arm over her eyes. The description of the ability she had been using floated across her vision, despite her eyes being closed and covered.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] - Active, Utility - Learn rudimentary knowledge about any single target. May not work on exceptional or rare targets. Minor focus cost per use.

    She remembered that Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge was supposed to have a minor focus cost. Was this what it was like to overuse her focus? This sucked!

    ¡°Why are all my powers terrible?¡± she groaned to herself. Her most usable power barely gave her any useful information, and it left her with a headache that was growing worse by the second.

    But not all of her powers sucked, right? She had barely tried to use her new echo abilities yet. And if she could boost any of her attributes¡­

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    Cadence managed a feeble grin through her pounding head, and reached for her Soul Surge power. ¡°Soul Surge¡­ focus?¡± she asked the air, unsure of how to use the power.

    #

    When Cadence and Storyteller returned from their meeting, they found Cadence collapsed on the floor, groaning in pain and barely able to wiggle her leaden limbs.

    They traded a look, and Ryme rolled her eyes. ¡°Overused your stamina?¡± she asked in that rhetorical way only mothers and school teachers seemed capable of.

    ¡°Ow,¡± Cadence replied from the floor.

    ¡°Focus too, I¡¯d bet,¡± Storyteller noted, his own voice hinting at laughter as he crouched down to examine the incapacitated girl.

    ¡°Urg,¡± Cadence answered, exercising every ounce of intelligence currently available to her.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°I assume this is a side effect from whatever secret gift you two have been avoiding telling me about?¡± Ryme said, her tone making her own lack of amusement clear.

    Storyteller¡¯s head shot up, his face guilty, and she rolled her eyes again.

    ¡°I¡¯m an Initiate, Storyteller. That doesn¡¯t make me an idiot.¡±

    He ducked his head respectively, and looked back at Cadence. ¡°I¡¯m tempted to leave you like this, you know.¡±

    ¡°It is the best way to learn your lesson,¡± Ryme offered in support.

    Cadence didn¡¯t manage any noises, but tried her hardest to exude the desperate desire to be put out of her misery.

    ¡°Unfortunately, we need to talk, so I¡¯m going to spare you from the repercussions of your own actions.¡± Storyteller reached into the voluminous, tattered cloak he seemed to wear perpetually, even inside, and pulled out a small vial. ¡°Lesser restoration potion,¡± he explained to Ryme. With a callous movement, he grabbed one of Cadence¡¯s arms and pulled. The same strength he had shown in the barrens made it simple to flip the girl over onto her back. ¡°It¡¯s going to restore your stamina and focus. This time at least. Next time, I might charge you.¡± He winked at Ryme, his playful expression at odds with his serious words. Not that Cadence could open her eyes enough to see.

    Storyteller unceremoniously flipped the cork out of the little vial and poured it down the girl¡¯s throat, then stood up.

    For Cadence, her world was one of absolute misery. As she had hoped, boosting her focus with Soul Surge had, indeed, cured the headache she had caused by overusing her Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge ability. But only after she had received the boost, suddenly pushing her reasoning abilities and logic far above their norm, did she realize the mistake she had made. Soul Surge carried its own cost, to both stamina and focus, but it delayed that cost until the boost wore off. Her improved mind saw how effective the ability¡¯s structure was, allowing her to make use of it in a dangerous encounter and suffer the repercussions later. But it had been the wrong tool for this job.

    She quickly came to the conclusion that when the boost wore off, the headache she¡¯d delayed with it would be that much worse for the cost of the second ability, and it would be combined with exhausting effects of draining her own stamina. She had tried using glintcaps, but her examination combined with her strengthened logic quickly figured out that the mushroom¡¯s healing magic, noted to be based on the resilience attribute, would be better at curing wounds and diseases than restoring physical or mental energy. Instead, she had gone to her mother¡¯s herb collection, looking for anything that would help restore her stamina and focus, in the hopes that she could brew a tea that would help her before her surge ran out.

    She made it through about six jars of herbs before her focus dropped, and her body went with it.

    Storyteller¡¯s potion finally broke through the pain and exhaustion. Over the next few minutes, the pounding of her migraine receded to a minor soreness behind her eyes, and suddenly breathing didn¡¯t feel quite so hard. Her arms and legs, which had previously felt like they had been coated in iron, slowly relaxed and became easier to move. It took about five minutes for the potion to fully do its work, by the end of which Cadence was sprawled on the floor, reveling in the euphoric rush of the pain ending.

    Then her mother¡¯s boot dug into her side, right under her ribs, and she sat up with a sharp yelp of surprise. ¡°Moooom!¡± she whined, rubbing at the soreness.

    ¡°You¡¯ll live,¡± Ryme said carelessly. ¡°Now get up, and tell me what idiotic gift Storyteller talked you into.¡±

    Cadence winced, while Storyteller looked away from the duo awkwardly. She didn¡¯t think he was the kind of man that got embarrassed easily, but Ryme catching them hiding the gift of the echo from her seemed to have done the trick.

    Cadence climbed to her feet, crossing her arms in a gesture of discomfort she didn¡¯t realize she had inherited from her mother. ¡°Well¡­ I saw him last night, when I went for that walk. And we were talking and he offered to give me this gift¡­¡±

    ¡°A relic gift?¡± Ryme interrupted, glaring daggers at Storyteller. ¡°I told you that you shouldn¡¯t take a relic gift, Cadence! Do you want to end up capped, like me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a relic gift,¡± Storyteller explained, his voice gentle.

    ¡°Then how exactly did you gift her?¡± Ryme demanded. ¡°Unless you¡¯re actually an archetype, the embodiment of bad decisions and poorly answered questions, I don¡¯t see how else you could manage it!¡±

    Storyteller mused for a moment before responding. ¡°The vast majority of gifts,¡± he finally said, ¡°fall into those two general categories, yes. Archetype gifts, granted by one of the Divine Archetypes based on accomplishing some feat or trial that aligns your soul with them; and relic gifts, granted by items of sufficient magical density, that need to be materially upgraded with every level. But there is a third type, one rare enough that it¡¯s rarely discussed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard them called mythic gifts. There are only a bare handful of scholars in the Realm that have made a study of them, and I¡¯ve only heard of less than half a dozen individuals alive who have one. Mine is called the gift of the echo. An inherent trait to these mythic gifts, as I understand it, is that they allow those who reach a certain level with them to pass them onto others.¡± He paused, regarding Cadence with a hopeful gaze. ¡°That¡¯s what I did with your daughter¨CI used the gift of the echo in my soul to carve the same gift into her.¡±

    Ryme looked from Storyteller to Cadence, frustration and anxiety warring on her face, and seemed conflicted about what to ask next. But concern for her daughter won out. ¡°Then¡­ she won¡¯t get capped like me?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Storyteller said simply. ¡°Mythic gifts can be difficult to level up, but they have more in common with archetype gifts than relic gifts.¡±

    Ryme seemed to relax slightly at that news, and she exhaled slowly. Cadence took the opportunity to ask, ¡°Where did you get your gift then, Storyteller?¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s soft smile didn¡¯t change, but it somehow became more¡­ brittle. Like a mask made of glass, rather than a genuine expression. His icy blue eyes only enhanced the perception. ¡°Some things I can¡¯t share, Cadence.¡±

    Ryme and Cadence shared a look with each other, and decided not to press the issue. With his odd, often inattentive, demeanor and casual attitude, it was easy to forget that neither of them were sure just how powerful Storyteller actually was.

    The frozen moment slowly thawed, the tension leaving Storyteller bit by bit. ¡°But this brings us to our main topic, Mistress Ryme.¡± His voice was once again mellow, his manner friendly and his eyes the brown of fertile soil.

    ¡°You want to take Cadence with you when you leave,¡± Ryme said, having already guessed at the situation.

    Cadence¡¯s back straightened, anxiety suddenly coursing through her, while Storyteller nodded solemnly. ¡°That¡¯s correct,¡± he said. ¡°Neither of Cadence¡¯s gifts are likely to grow very much while she¡¯s here.¡±

    Ryme chewed on her lip, her gaze focused on the stiff, anxious form of her daughter. ¡°I always knew that might happen one day,¡± she admitted, her voice quiet. ¡°But not yet.¡± The last word came out with some fire to them.

    ¡°Mom¡­¡± Cadence started.

    ¡°Actually,¡± Storyteller told her, ¡°I agree on that front.¡±

    Cadence looked up in surprise. ¡°R-really?¡±

    ¡°If we simply walked away right now, you¡¯d spend your life looking back. You¡¯d probably end up turning around in less than a year, to say nothing of the guilt I¡¯d feel dragging you away from your home like that. You need time before you¡¯ll be ready. Fortunately, as I was telling your mother and the other hunters earlier, I plan on staying here for some time. At least a month. I expect, by then, you¡¯ll have more firmly made your mind up, one way or the other. Agreed?¡±

    Storyteller looked from Ryme to Cadence, both of whom slowly nodded, and the last of the remaining tension left the room. Cadence gave her mother a shy smile, and Ryme¡¯s maternal worry slowly bloomed into a loving look in return. ¡°I think that¡¯s much better,¡± Ryme said.

    Cadence nodded a little, rubbing at the brand tattooed on her arm. ¡°I¡­ yeah. Yeah, that sounds perfect.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Storyteller said. ¡°As I promised, Mistress Ryme, I will do what I can to facilitate some trials in that time, and see if we can¡¯t get any more of your people up to Initiate.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± Cadence said, her brain jogging into motion again. ¡°You can do trials? Like, for other archetypes?¡±

    Storyteller nodded. ¡°Correct. I¡¯m both an armsmaster of the Warrior and proctor of the Mage. If a big enough storm blows through, I might even be able to lead some Primal trials.¡±

    Cadence¡¯s eyes went wide, thinking of the lightning bolt he had used to finish the ogre¨Cthen dimmed, as she remembered that she already had both of her gifts.

    Storyteller chuckled, reading her expression. ¡°While I¡¯m doing that, Cadence, you can start training with the other hunters. If you¡¯re really going to try to be an adventurer, we need to get you ready to fight.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t have combat gifts!¡± Cadence exclaimed.

    Storyteller gave a sharp bark of laughter. ¡°Neither do I,¡± he said. ¡°My most offensive blessing is my Primal gift of lightning¨Cwhich I can get, at best, two or three strong attacks out of. Other than that, I have the same wanderer and echo gifts as you Cadence, and the gift of the artificer.¡±

    Ryme blinked in surprise, clearly disconcerted, but Cadence didn¡¯t notice.

    ¡°But... but¡­ that sword! I watched you fight the ogre! You were incredible!¡±

    ¡°All practice,¡± he said simply. ¡°And¡­ perhaps a few other tricks you¡¯ll pick up one day. But first and foremost, you need training. And I¡¯m sure your mother and her companions will be happy to provide it.¡± The words provoked an immediate look of trepidation across Cadence¡¯s face. ¡°And when I¡¯m not working with the hunters, I¡¯ll help you train with the gift of the echo, getting you used to some of its more unique elements.¡±

    Ryme made a soft sound of interest. ¡°What are these ¡®unique elements¡¯ of yours anyways?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m still not sure what this echo gift does.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a flexible power,¡± Cadence answered. Without meaning to, she lifted her hand to look at the interwoven brands on her wrist¨Cso she didn¡¯t see the look of surprise her next words drew from Storyteller. ¡°I think it¡¯s meant to be used with others. It lets me copy gift abilities from other people, and lets me boost my attributes. I¡­ I could be a melee fighter one moment, then a ranged combatant, or even a healer, the next, if I use my powers right. Right?¡± She directed the last question at Storyteller, who lifted a hand to rub away the shock that was clear on his face.

    He cleared his throat a little, and replied, ¡°More or less correct.¡±

    ¡°Quite the gift,¡± Ryme said thoughtfully. ¡°Then you¡¯d need practice using all sorts of different abilities. And how does that boost work?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a major boost, to one attribute. But when it wears off¡­¡± Cadence trailed off in embarrassment.

    Ryme nodded and finished the sentence for her. ¡°You pay a price in stamina and focus. So it can help you finish a fight, but can¡¯t carry you through.¡±

    ¡°Not at Novice level at least,¡± Storyteller admitted.

    ¡°Well good,¡± Ryme decided, giving Cadence a firm nod. ¡°Training with the others will be just the thing for you. You can practice copying their powers, and using different boosts. If you don¡¯t get used to the boosts, having a sudden burst of strength or speed could hurt more than help.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Cadence asked in surprise.

    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s something a lot of relic gift bearers have a problem with. Take my strength boost. It makes me incredibly strong, but it doesn¡¯t come with the stamina or resilience that a more balanced gift would give. I might be stronger than someone like Denning, who has a Warrior gift, but he can outlast me in a one on one fight easily. You¡¯ll have the same problem, but with whatever you boost. Speed without coordination will just send you flying the first time you hit a rock in the road.¡±

    Storyteller looked as impressed with Ryme as Cadence. ¡°That is all correct,¡± he said, his voice just as surprised. ¡°You have a good eye for this sort of thing, Mistress Ryme. But how will you explain it to the village?¡±

    Mother and daughter both gave Storyteller a confused look. ¡°By¡­ telling them about the gift?¡± Cadence answered, baffled about the question.

    Storyteller frowned. ¡°I see. It¡¯s just¡­ hmm.¡± Storyteller looked pensive for another moment, before asking, ¡°Could you at least claim you got it from an obscure archetype or something? I¡¯d rather not spend the next few months with people asking me to give them the same gift.¡±

    ¡°Could you?¡± Cadence asked. ¡°You know, if they asked?¡±

    Storyteller shook his head. ¡°No. In some ways, it¡¯s like making an ensouled item¨CI had to give up a little bit of my soul to do it, and it will be some time before I¡¯m able to do it again, if ever.¡±

    ¡°I assumed there was some limit, or there would be many more of these gifts running around,¡± Ryme said. ¡°Very well, Storyteller. Anything else for today?¡±

    Storyteller considered, then shook his head.

    ¡°Good. Cadence, I¡¯m going to get supper started. Denning was supposed to see to lodgings for our guest¨Cwould you mind showing him the way to the Honeyed Pear?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡±

    ¡°Good. And do try to come home this time,¡± Ryme chided her gently. ¡°Preferably without some new mysterious gift from a stranger.¡±

    Cadence giggled and nodded her agreement. She was happier than she could ever remember being. She had her unique and fascinating gifts. She had her mother¡¯s approval. She had a mentor, a route forward, and time enough to say her goodbyes properly.

    For once, she could see her future. And it looked like a road, winding towards a distant and magical horizon.

 Chapter 14 - Oliver

    The Primal was different from the other Divine Archetypes. While those like the Warrior or the Mage represented specific disciplines practiced by humans, the Primal was associated with the natural world itself, and with the elements that comprised it. Because of this, some even theorized that the Primal was, in fact, the first Divine Archetype, with the others simply following in the pattern it had created.

    Considering its primeval nature, it was no surprise that the Primal demanded dangerous, even deadly, trials to gain its gifts. The only way to gain command of an element was to face it down and survive its wrath, to prove that the strength of your will was greater than the force you sought to control. Over time, however, as the civilized nature of the Realm increasingly separated most people from the dangers of the wilds, these trials naturally occurred less and less often. The dangers that people had once contended with for survival every day of their lives had been tamed as the Realm grew.

    Rather than give up access to the Primal¡¯s potent gifts, the Primal Halls had been established to fill in this gap. There were a few in every bastion city, institutions dedicated to providing the elemental trials needed to gain such a gift. As the Primal required danger in order to recognize a trial, injuries were still common in these institutions, but the Halls managed to keep the death toll relatively low, while keeping the gifts accessible to those without the wherewithal to wander into the wilds in search of power.

    Oliver knew all of these facts, but they were a cold comfort as he faced down the trial of wind. He stood alone on a circular platform of marble perhaps five feet across, at the top of a tall pillar of the same material. Below him¨Cten stories below him, to be precise¨Cthe shining city of Elliven stretched in every direction. The center of the city was hewn primarily from the blue veined marble common to the region, with more pedestrian stone, clay, and wood becoming increasingly common the farther a building was from the noble district in the city center. This particular Primal Hall was situated in the middle of the sprawling manors of the high court, so it granted a truly stunning view of the bewildering array of architectural designs on display below.

    Decades before, people had come from across the Realm to settle in the newly-founded bastion city, and the varied aesthetics of the noble district and the city at large typified the melting pot that it had become. At midday, with the sunlight caught by a hundred hundred glittering marble surfaces, it was a sight as beautiful as it was unique.

    Not that Oliver particularly cared for the view at the moment. His arms and legs already quivered from the long climb up the ladder that was bolted to the side of the marble pillar, the sole way to access the trial of wind, and now he desperately tried to keep his balance as the high winds buffeted him from every side. This high up, the refreshing spring breeze he usually enjoyed had transformed into a terrifying bombardment of powerful gusts and swirling eddies. He had to lean into them to avoid simply being blown off of his little platform, but he couldn¡¯t shift his weight too far to any side, lest he lose his balance when the wind ceased.

    Oliver had known that all of the trials of the Primal were dangerous, that they demanded strength of will and absolute dedication, but he still hadn¡¯t expected anything quite like this! All it would take was a single wrong move, an instant of wavering, to send him plummeting to his death. Oliver swallowed and resolutely looked forward instead, towards the edge of Elliven and beyond, to the vast expanse of forest now known as the Arboreal Waste. Already, it was in bloom, bare trees filling in just two days into spring.

    The Wastes were a stark reminder of what he had learned from Adeline the day before. Of course, that hadn¡¯t been the first time Oliver had heard of adventurers. They were the constant subject of a thousand stories, myths, and tall tales. But, like everyone else, Oliver had considered them to be little more than that, simple tales of bravery and derring-do with no grounding in reality, childish even. Oliver had considered himself too old for adventurer stories years ago.

    But Adeline painted the adventurers in a different light. She claimed that the Argent Order was inspired by those legendary heroes. Rather than committing themselves solely to the fight in the Wastes, as was expected of all noble fighters, the silver knights traveled the land, seeking out and doing battle with dangers others never even knew about. While the aristocracy disdained them as shiftless wanderers, avoiding the duty of the Wastes, Adeline claimed that their work was every bit as important, if not more so, as the skirmishers and sentinels who fought in the Wastes.

    Not so long ago, Oliver would¡¯ve dismissed the knight-gallant¡¯s claims as absurd. But Adeline had already opened his eyes in so many ways, and he owed too much to her to simply ignore the truths she had presented because they were uncomfortable. She had warned him, after all, that the knowledge she offered would change how he saw the Realm. And now that he knew how common manifestations were outside of the Wastes, he couldn¡¯t deny the logic in her words. The bastion cities had solved a pressing need. The bastion forces and all the infrastructure the cities provided more or less nullified the danger of the Wastes. Dangerous as they were, they had clear boundaries that could be watched. The same couldn¡¯t be said for the remainder of the Realm.

    Oliver had been taught that the wardens and hunters were the ones who handled the minimal threats that plagued the remainder of the Realm. The wardens patrolled the high roads and trade routes, protecting the thoroughfares of the Realm, while the hunters protected the villages scattered throughout the land. It seemed simple enough. But that system ignored the wild places¨C the hinterlands, the places too dangerous or too barren to be worth settling, the fringe wilderness that the Realm had never managed to force its way into, a thousand different ruins and abandoned towns from earlier ages. Those lost places played host to innumerable threats, and the knights of the Argent Order were all that stood between them and the Realm.

    Without their work, the frontier and the heartlands would likely have fallen years ago, destroyed by monsters that had built up without being attended to. Even if the trade cities were built up to the same scale as the bastion cities, there was no way they could hold the full population of the Realm¨Cand without the farms in the heartlands, the bastion cities couldn¡¯t survive anyways. The Argent Order was a quiet necessity, just as crucial to the survival of the Realm as any of the other orders¨Cand they did it all in the face of disdain and even hatred from the noble population.

    Oliver couldn¡¯t think of anything more heroic.

    A gust suddenly blasted Oliver in the face, and without even thinking about it, his weight shifted onto his forward leg, so that his balance barely wobbled.

    Oliver blinked in surprise. He had gotten so lost in considering the things Adeline had revealed to him that he had stopped thinking about ever-changing winds. His body simply started shifting and adapting to them without conscious thought. Even as he came to that realization, he felt his entire being flutter, as if that last gust had blown through his soul as much as his body.

    You have proven your resilience in the face of the wind. The Primal has offered you the [Gift of Wind].

    Do you accept?

    Yes / No

    Once accepted, gifts can never be relinquished.

    Novice gifts: 1/2

    Oliver smiled widely at the notification. He knew there was no need to verbalize his acceptance, but he did anyways, just as he had done when he had received his first gift. ¡°Yes,¡± he said out loud.

    The boy gasped as his soul embraced the power the Primal had offered him. There was a moment of frisson over his body, a feeling like shivers and exhaustion and adrenaline and satisfaction all at once, as his new gift enhanced his attributes. The winds seemed to gust even harder, but he didn¡¯t even consider them anymore. There was no need.

    ¡°Attributes,¡± he said to the open air.

    Oliver Argent

    Level: Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Vanguard]: +2 to strength, resilience, and stamina

    [Gift of Wind]: +3 to coordination and speed

    Attributes:

    Strength: 7 (5 + 2)

    Resilience: 8 (6 + 2)

    Stamina: 8 (6 + 2)

    Coordination: 8 (5 + 3)

    Speed: 7 (4 + 3)

    Will: 5

    Knowledge: 7

    Focus: 5

    Awareness: 4

    Charm: 3

    Quintessence Pool: 10

    The sight of his new attribute boons only made Oliver smile wider. In the months leading up to his trial duel, Oliver had thoroughly searched out every scrap of information he could find on the Mage and the Primal for gifts that would pair well with the gifts of the Warrior. The freedom of the wind had caught his eye immediately¨Cbut as its boosts overlapped with those of the gift of the fencer, they would¡¯ve gone to waste. Instead, he had reluctantly settled on the gift of fire, the raw power of which would complement the agile pinpoint fighting style of fencing.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Receiving the gift of the vanguard had changed things. Its smaller but more spread out boons had improved the attributes he had most raised himself. Strength, stamina, and resilience had always come naturally to Oliver, with his height and his powerful build. By comparison, the gift of wind only benefited two attributes, but it gave stronger boosts to each of them, and his speed and coordination had always been the attributes he had the most difficult time improving through training. Paired, the two gifts boosted all of his physical attributes. Oliver knew from his research that such a combination was rare, and it would give his abilities an uncommon breadth.

    His mental attributes were a different story, but Oliver was perfectly happy with his own mental acuity. Already, his will had even gone up a point from the day before. That must¡¯ve been from all of the introspection that had followed after Adeline had forced him to consider and recognize the lies and unconscious biases he had grown up with. He wondered if she could help him with some exercises to improve his focus and awareness, too.

    Oliver dismissed his attributes, then laughed breathlessly when he felt another vicious squall slam his awkward perch. He had no difficulty keeping his balance this time. Coordination was the attribute associated with manual dexterity, hand-eye coordination, and balance, while speed, especially at the lower levels, was associated with reflexes and reaction time. The boosts he had received made holding his place in the face of the gusting winds simple, his body automatically adjusting his stance to accommodate the ever-swirling winds.

    So, despite his dangerous position, Oliver was more than comfortable enough to take a moment to examine his new gift before he began the long climb down the pillar.

    ¡°Gift of wind,¡± he said aloud, calling up the message that explained his new gift.

    [Gift of Wind]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 0%

    Push your limits to grow closer to the wind

    Abilities:

    [Gust Blast] - Active, Attack - Manifest a gust of wind straight in front of you. Inflicts little direct damage, but can disorient or physically move enemies. Moderate quintessence cost.

    [Mantle of Wind] - Active, Utility - Conjure a small cloak of swirling wind around yourself. Reduces fall speed. One minute duration. Minor quintessence cost.

    [Master of Wind] - Boon - Moderate boost to coordination and speed.

    Augments:

    [Wind Slash] - Wind, Vanguard - Active, Attack - Use a bladed weapon to make a ranged attack delivered through hardened air. Damage and quintessence cost depend on the weapon used to make the attack.

    Oliver¡¯s smile widened as he read his new abilities. They were straightforward, as most gifts tended to be at low levels, but they would add some useful versatility to the special attacks his vanguard gift had already given him. He wasn¡¯t sure what a quintessence pool was though. The term was vaguely familiar, but he couldn¡¯t recall anything specific about it. He thought for another moment, trying to remember, before he finally sighed and shrugged. Maybe he really did need to pay more attention to his mental attributes.

    For the moment, however, he was ready to test out his new abilities. He hadn¡¯t been looking forward to climbing back down the long ladder that had brought him to this platform anyways. What better way was there to test his new gift?

    His grin widened as he made the small effort of will to activate his new Mantle of Wind¨Cthen he simply stepped off the side of the pillar.

    #

    Adeline paced restlessly in front of the Primal Hall. She was wearing a much more functional outfit than she had the day before, a soft white tabard and a pair of quilted silk trousers in a dark gray. Of course, her top was dyed the bright white the Argent Order was associated with. She always tried to wear the order¡¯s colors when she was in a city, so she had added a pair of white leather boots that went up her calves and short riding cloak made of a light gray fabric that glittered in the sun. She had spent the time she was waiting for Oliver to pass his test binding her golden blonde hair into a neat braid.

    She didn¡¯t notice Oliver¡¯s descent until he was halfway down, when passerby began pointing upwards. Of course, the aristocracy had to keep up their pretense of being unimpressed by any display of gifts, so their surprise was kept to a low murmur. Adeline felt no need to project such a jaded air. She had seen many amazing feats from gift bearers in her life, but she never lost her wonder when she saw something new.

    And watching her sixteen year old charge fall from ten stories up, screaming in exhilaration, only for his plummet to suddenly turn into the gentle drift of a feather ten feet above the polished stone of the street, was certainly a new one.

    By the time he had reached street level, Adeline had her arms crossed and an eyebrow arched in amusement at Oliver¡¯s pose. While he had tried to maintain a controlled fall, he had little practice at falling over a hundred feet, and by the time he was halfway down from his precarious perch, his mantle had vanished, its duration spent. In his panic, it had taken him precious seconds to manifest the cloak again, and he managed it only just in time to softly float down the last few feet.

    Adeline¡¯s boots clicked on the marble stones of the street as she approached him until she appeared in his field of vision, looking down with an amused look, only barely managing to contain her laughter at his expense. ¡°Well. I take it you passed your trial,¡± more bubbling laughter danced in her voice as she continued, ¡°and your excitement inspired you into that spontaneous act of idiocy?¡±

    Oliver flashed her a petulant look, then saw a notification press at his attention.

    [Gift of Wind] experienced gained

    Experience: 8%

    His pout turned into a grin. ¡°Worth it,¡± He claimed breathlessly, before letting out a breath and sprawling comfortably on the sun warmed street.

    Adeline narrowed her eyes suspiciously at his dopey grin. ¡°Did you¡­ Did you just get experience for that?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡±

    She exhaled a huff of breath somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. ¡°Stand up before you get run over, dumbass.¡±

    Oliver chuckled and pushed himself into a sitting position, then gave Adeline a suspicious look of his own. ¡°What are you doing out here anyways?¡±

    The blonde knight rolled her eyes. ¡°Your little trick there must be common for those who succeed in the trial of wind. The officials told me I was better off waiting out here for you.¡±

    Oliver huffed another little chuckle as he climbed to his feet. ¡°I mean, are you telling me that if you had the choice between climbing that damned ladder or just jumping down, you¡¯d take the ladder?¡±

    Adeline pursed her lips thoughtfully, then looked up at the towering pillar far overhead. Reluctantly, she admitted, ¡°That actually might be a good point.¡± She turned back to him, arching an eyebrow. ¡°Did the gift of wind give you a charm bonus?¡±

    Oliver smiled back. ¡°Nope, still an eight!¡± he said proudly. ¡°That one was all me!¡±

    ¡°Maybe don¡¯t act so proud of that,¡± Adeline advised. ¡°Now come on, we should get going. Your sister and brother will be waiting for us by now.¡±

    The reminder of the lunch with his family, and his mother¡¯s unsurprising absence, served to deflate Oliver¡¯s excitement, and his smile quickly faded. ¡°Right.¡± He kept his voice as neutral as he could, trying to suppress the anxiety abruptly chewing away at his guts. ¡°Let¡¯s go then.¡±

    #

    Adeline and Oliver chatted about Oliver¡¯s new gifts as they walked back to the cafe Adeline had taken him to the day before.

    ¡°That augment is good. Typical of vanguard gifts, just a nice, straightforward attack. Some range will go a long way for your skillset.¡±

    Oliver glowed at the comment. He had felt the same when he saw the description of Wind Edge, and with the relative scarcity of the gift of wind¨Cmany chose more showy gifts like earth or fire¨Cit should prove a valuable surprise in no small number of fights. That was, after all, the real power of augments. While the abilities each gift gave at each level were the same for everyone with that gift, to the point that many were fully cataloged through at least Adept, the augment powers formed by the combinations of gifts were far more unique. Offhand, Oliver had never heard of anyone with the vanguard and wind combination, which would prove a powerful advantage if he found himself in any duels.

    ¡°You seem to know a lot about the vanguard gift,¡± Oliver commented off-handedly. Oliver had spent a while considering what gifts his new mentor had, but hadn¡¯t figured out a polite way to ask.

    ¡°Noticed that, did you?¡± Adeline asked cheekily, having clearly seen through him. One hand reached up to grasp her own upper arm¨Cthe same place Oliver had noticed the upraised sword design of the vanguard brand on his own skin the night before. ¡°I do have the vanguard gift, after all. It''s a common gift among adventurers, actually¨Cwe prize versatility over the kind of specialization the bastion forces prefer.¡±

    That put a little skip in Oliver¡¯s step. He had heard a lot of derisive comments about the vanguard gift from his noble peers and trainers growing up. It wasn¡¯t as strong as the brawler, nor as defensive as the guardian, nor as fast as the skirmisher or the fencer. It was a jack of all trades, which his desperate display in his duel against Allid had apparently matched him to. But, like many of the biases he had accepted over the years, he was increasingly realizing that the nobles of Elliven were wrong to ignore the simple, straightforward techniques the vanguard gift granted.

    [Gift of the Vanguard]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 0%

    Defeat foes to grow your skill in the face of danger

    Abilities:

    [Reckless Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Major stamina cost.

    [Reinforced Defense] - Triggered, Defense - When blocking an attack, your equipment is treated as one tier of potency higher. Each time this is triggered, there is a minor focus cost.

    [Battlefield¡¯s Blessing] - Boon - Lesser boost to your strength, stamina, and resilience.

    ¡°Oh! That reminds me!¡± Oliver said suddenly. ¡°My wind powers all reference a quintessence pool. Do you know what that is?¡±

    Adeline grimaced, and lifted a hand that she wiggled back and forth in a so-so gesture. ¡°Sort of. I don¡¯t have a Primal gift, so I only know the basics.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s still more than I know,¡± Oliver admitted. ¡°I know I heard the term somewhere, but I can¡¯t place it.¡±

    ¡°Think of it as a resource.¡± Adeline said. ¡°It¡¯s unique to the Primal gifts. It¡¯s supposed to represent the magic your gift has absorbed, that you use for your elemental abilities, something like that.¡±

    Oliver nodded thoughtfully. Abilities always had some kind of limit to them. Some had a cooldown that limited how often they could be used, while others used attributes, most often stamina and focus, as a cost to be activated the way his vanguard abilities did. So the quintessence pool, he reasoned, was used in a similar fashion, but it wouldn¡¯t leave him exhausted the way overusing his stamina would. That helped him to remember where he had heard the term before.

    ¡°That must be it,¡± he told Adeline. ¡°My sister has a Primal gift too. Earth. She must¡¯ve mentioned quintessence at some point.¡±

    Adeline winced at the words, and she cleared her throat awkwardly. ¡°Uhm, Oliver¡­ I don¡¯t know how culture in Elliven is, but as you travel, you should know, it¡¯s considered impolite to reveal someone else¡¯s gifts without their permission.¡±

    Oliver flushed in embarrassment. He hadn¡¯t known that. ¡°Really?¡±

    Adeline nodded uncomfortably. ¡°Most people tend to be pretty open about their own gifts¨Cor at least, their Novice gifts¨Cbut it¡¯s generally seen as very rude to go talking about someone else''s, even your own family¡¯s.¡±

    Still flushed, Oliver directed his eyes at the ground. His reply was distinctly ashamed and subdued when he told Adeline, ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. Apologies, I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    Adeline rolled her eyes and made an exasperated noise. ¡°By the Warrior, calm down Oli. I know you didn¡¯t know, that¡¯s why I told you!¡±

    Oliver looked up, so startled at her tone that his steps froze for a moment. Only then did he realize he had slipped instinctively into responding to her the way he had to chastising tutors or his father. ¡°I- uhm, I only, I mean¡­¡±

    Adeline shook her head, her expression melting into a smile. ¡°You¡¯re fine, Oliver. I¡¯m not your father. I don¡¯t expect you to know everything on day two, or to be perfect¡­ ever, really. Artist knows I¡¯m not. Okay?¡±

    Oliver flushed again, for very different reasons this time, and he ducked his head. ¡°Y-yes ma¡¯am. Adeline. Sorry.¡±

    Adeline sighed. ¡°We really need to work on loosening you up at some point.¡±

 Chapter 15 - Oliver

    ¡°Do you have any proof of these claims about my father?¡± Alyssia asked Adeline, her tone just a shade shy of belligerent. Oliver¡¯s eldest sibling bore a noticeable resemblance to him, with the fine, angular features of their mother, though Alyssia¡¯s training regimine and time as a sentinel had further honed the lines of her face to an almost razor sharpness that well fit her spring-steel build. She kept her brown hair short and functional, though even that was enough to show off its natural waviness.

    Oliver sighed. Of course that was his sister''s first question after he finished his story. ¡°I¡¯m not sending him to the magistrates or challenging him to a duel, Aly,¡± he told her. ¡°I saw his face. That was enough for me.¡±

    ¡°And we both know Father didn¡¯t leave any evidence lying about, in any case,¡± Olan added with an eye roll. ¡°Say what you will, the man is thorough.¡±

    The middle child of the Dennan family had much more of his father¡¯s blood in him, giving him a rounder face and weaker chin than either of his siblings. His skilled hands and sharp mind had also spared him the hard training Alyssia and Oliver had spent their teenage years dedicated to. Now in his early twenties and working as a professional artificer, he had begun to gain some comfortable weight. His brown hair was a shade lighter than his siblings, and much more curly. He wore it long and messy, but boasted enough casual confidence to make it look relaxed rather than disheveled.

    Alyssia gave her middle brother a fiery look. ¡°Are you telling me you believe this?¡±

    ¡°That our father set Oliver up to earn a favor from the Gerrots? Yes. I absolutely believe that.¡± Olan¡¯s voice shook with a barely suppressed laugh at how obvious the answer was. ¡°And if you¡¯d stop being so defensive, you¡¯d realize it''s obvious too.¡±

    Alyssia pursed her lips and looked from Olan to Adeline with more or less equal amounts of distaste, then her face softened as she turned to her little brother. ¡°Even if he did¡­ Are you really just going to turn your back on the family, Oli? On us?¡± She gestured at Olan, who held up a hand in disagreement and shifted away with a little shake of his head, earning another of Alyssia¡¯s characteristic glares.

    Adeline stayed carefully quiet, as interested in Oliver¡¯s response as his siblings were. At that moment, the insecure young man Adeline had met the day prior did not look very insecure, or even very young. He simply looked¡­ tired.

    ¡°It¡¯s not because of this, Aly. Or at least it¡¯s not just because of this. You know that.¡± Oliver watched as both of his sibling¡¯s faces slowly turned somber, eyes clouded with the memory of the incident with his journal. Their parents hadn¡¯t made any secret of their disdain. ¡°Father set me up for the same reason he refused to let me be a sentinel. The same reason mother didn¡¯t bother to even come to my duel. You both¡­¡± Oliver stopped, catching himself before his voice could crack. He took a long, slow breath, and when he spoke again, he was pleased to hear that his voice was even and resolved. ¡°You know I don¡¯t belong with our family.¡±

    ¡°Oli¡­¡±

    Olan put a hand on his sister¡¯s arm as he met Oliver¡¯s eyes. ¡°I unde-¡± He stopped, and shook his head. ¡°No, I won¡¯t say I understand. But I see why you made your choice.¡± He gave his sister a meaningful look, and Alyssia eventually nodded, the motion stiff.

    ¡°Yeah. Yeah, of course Oli. I get it,¡± she finally said, her voice soft.

    Adeline looked between the three siblings, but stayed very carefully quiet. Despite that, Alyssia¡¯s eyes returned to the knight.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand your part in this, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Please, Adeline is fine,¡± she told Alyssia. ¡°I never was one for titles.¡±

    ¡°Adeline, then. What¡¯s your interest in my little brother?

    Adeline rolled a shoulder in what was increasingly becoming a familiar gesture to Oliver. ¡°No special interest,¡± she claimed. ¡°I had caught wind of what your father was up to and decided to put my thumb on the scale. Make it all a little more balanced.¡±

    ¡°Is that something your order normally does?¡± Alyssia asked with blatant suspicion.

    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Adeline admitted calmly. ¡°We believe, first and foremost, in defending those who cannot defend themselves. Yesterday, that included Oliver. And afterward¡­¡± Adeline gave Oliver a small smile. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t plan that part. But when I saw the way your father was treating your brother, I felt compelled to offer him another option.¡±

    ¡°He does get like that,¡± Olan acknowledged. ¡°This tea is excellent, by the way.¡± Oliver smiled a little at the casual words. As always, his older brother¡¯s relaxed energy undercut Alyssia¡¯s perpetual intensity.

    Alyssia rolled her eyes, but didn¡¯t bother to tell him off. ¡°I looked into you, you know,¡± she told Adeline.

    The blonde knight nodded calmly, as if she had expected as much. ¡°I thought you would. What did you find out?¡±

    ¡°No small number of my peers among the nobility seem to dislike you and your order. They consider you unreliable and untrustworthy.¡± Oliver opened his mouth to defend his new mentor, but Alyssia continued. ¡°However, I know better than to trust the average noble¡¯s opinion on most things.¡±

    Adeline lips curled into an expectant smile. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°I received very different opinions from people who I actually respect. Fellow sentinels, a couple Emerald Order knights I¡¯m on good terms with. Those who have heard of you seem to admire you a great deal.¡± Adeline nodded graciously, though that had, technically, not really been a compliment. ¡°You¡¯ve spent time in the Wastes, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    Adeline nodded. ¡°Of course. All of them, in fact.¡± She shrugged one shoulder idly. ¡°I do quite a bit of traveling.¡±

    ¡°Enough to have reached Adept level?¡±

    Adeline blinked in surprise, then her smile grew a step wider. ¡°Well, well. You really did look into me, didn¡¯t you? Yes, I¡¯m an Adept. Vanguard and passion gifts.¡±

    Alyssia narrowed her eyes. ¡°To be an Adept you¡¯d need a third gift too.¡±

    ¡°I noticed that too, yes.¡±

    ¡°But you only mentioned two.¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡±

    Alyssia continued glaring at Adeline for a moment, who maintained that same measured smile in return. Finally, his sister rolled her eyes, grumbling something under her breath.

    ¡°What about you?¡± Adeline asked, unperturbed by Alyssia¡¯s frustration. ¡°You¡¯re approaching Initiate now. Have you begun to consider your third gift? Have any of the archetypes offered one yet?¡±

    Alyssia sighed, and finally picked up her own tea, relaxing a little bit. ¡°A couple. The Noble and the Arbiter.¡±

    ¡°Prestigious indeed,¡± Adeline commented, still pointing that sunny smile at Alyssia. It seemed even Oliver¡¯s fiery older sister couldn¡¯t keep up her temper against the perpetually serene knight. ¡°And yet, you don¡¯t seem that pleased.¡±

    ¡°The Arbiter offered the gift of the jailer, but that would mean joining the Watch. Which they are thrilled about, but doesn¡¯t much interest me.¡± Adeline made a polite sound of interest, and Alyssia explained, ¡°My skirmisher and earth gifts make a trap augment. Instant pit traps.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Adeline acknowledged. She gave Oliver a brief look, and explained, ¡°The Arbiter is the Archetype concerned with enforcement of the law. A trap power like that, combined with a gift like the jailer, would make your sister an extremely valuable asset for catching outlaws and the like.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°And why exactly would getting an Arbiter gift require you to join the City Watch?¡± Olan asked.

    ¡°The Arbiter is one of the more politically active archetypes,¡± Oliver explained to his brother. Olan, due to his trade skills, had skipped the political education Oliver and his sister had been forced through. ¡°It¡¯s associated with law and order. A gift like the jailer is great at catching outlaw gift bearers, but would be pointless in the Wastes.¡±

    Adeline¡¯s eyes sparkled with approval. ¡°Just so.¡± Oliver noticeably preened under the acknowledgement from the knight, blissfully unaware of the knowing look his siblings shared. Adeline looked back to Alyssia before continuing, ¡°The Noble seems more closely aligned with you though, especially as the heir to house Dennan.¡±

    Alyssia blew out a breath. ¡°Maybe, but I know I only got offered the gift of the cavalier by dint of blood. The Noble likes having heads of house among its ranks.¡± She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, a gesture so uncharacteristic of her that Oliver blinked in surprise, then she added in a rush, ¡°I¡¯ve actually been thinking about trying to get the gift of the hunter. That would be a really good match for me.¡±

    Adeline¡¯s eyes widened slightly with her own surprise, and Oliver couldn¡¯t blame her. Not only was that ignoring the rarer gifts that could only be obtained with the Initiate slot, it was a gift of the Elder¨Ca frontier gift, used by village hunters!

    ¡°Well, well, well. It seems your father¡¯s strict upbringing succeeded mostly at raising a family of nonconformists,¡± Adeline observed dryly. Alyssia flushed a little bit, and Oliver couldn¡¯t help but feel that if his sister kept surprising him like this, he¡¯d just fall off his chair all together.

    ¡°I¡¯m impressed though,¡± Adeline acknowledged. ¡°That¡¯s a brave choice, and one I think will serve you well. If you wouldn¡¯t mind, I actually have some connections with a few of the local hunter chiefs. I¡¯d be happy to connect you to a village where you could spend a season or two.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I still need to get my gift of earth over the line to Initiate first, before my third slot will open.¡±

    Adeline waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Easy enough. You just need to find some cave systems to clear out, that¡¯ll get you the necessary experience in no time. I know just the village, they¡¯ve been having an issue with some cave blights.¡± The knight looked around at the surprised looks all three siblings were giving her. ¡°What? I¡¯ve helped plenty of people get over the line to Initiate.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re surprised you¡¯re doing it without asking for anything in return,¡± Oliver explained with a chuckle. ¡°We¡¯re used to everything being exchanges and favors and deals that you just have to hope work out better for you than the other person.¡±

    Adeline rolled her eyes. ¡°Nobles,¡± she muttered. ¡°I promise, you¡¯ll all get much farther in the world if you leave all that behind and just try to help people.¡±

    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± Olan added with a small huff, even as he waved down a passing waitress for a refill. None of the others had done more than lightly sip their tea, but Olan had already finished his cup. ¡°Some of us need to participate in the economy to make a living. Though I¡¯ll confess to preferring cold, hard gold over favors any day.¡±

    Adeline smiled at his insouciance. ¡°Fair enough. Oliver was telling me you''re a craftsman?¡±

    Olan nodded. ¡°A jeweler, specifically. Gifts of the artificer and the smith.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Oliver gasped and fumbled with his belt. ¡°That reminds me! Look at the blade Adeline gave me, Ol!¡±

    Olan raised an eyebrow, but took the sheathed sword from his brother. He kept it low, his dexterous fingers handling it with the care such a dangerous weapon demanded. He made a soft grunt of interest as he slipped the first few inches of the runeblade out of its leather sheath, exposing the first few intricate engravings on the blade.

    While he inspected the weapon, Alyssia asked, ¡°So this is the sword that let you defeat Allid?¡±

    Oliver nodded. ¡°Yeah! It gave me this ranged attack that threw him off balance.¡±

    Olan nodded with the description. ¡°I see¡­ That¡¯s what these runes are. One to store kinetic energy, one to release it?¡± He turned the sword in his hands to display the slightly different runes engraved on each side of the base of the sword blade.

    Adeline nodded in confirmation, watching the way Olan carefully examined the weapon.

    ¡°And this material¡­ shimmer steel, right? I¡¯ve made a few pendants of the metal, but a full sword of it seems exorbitant.¡±

    ¡°I bought it in Terase,¡± Adeline explained. ¡°There are several villages up there that mine the glowstone used to make it, so it¡¯s much cheaper. The Legion smiths love it.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t blame them,¡± Olan remarked idly. ¡°Shimmer steel is tremendous at storing potential energy.¡± He slipped the blade halfway from the sheathe, and gave a soft sound of surprise at the second row of runes, again repeated on each side of the blade. ¡°Are these¡­ I recognize light runes, and some sort of conversion runes?¡±

    ¡°Force to light,¡± Adeline explained. ¡°They-¡±

    ¡°Use some of the stored kinetic energy to create light, yes.¡± Olan finished her sentence for her, nodding in understanding, then his brow furrowed. ¡°But why are there two?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s four actually.¡± Oliver interjected. ¡°There¡¯s another on each side above those two.¡±

    Adeline reached out a warning hand before Olan could go any farther. ¡°Ah! I¡¯d prefer it if you didn¡¯t bare the full weapon in the middle of the cafe. You¡¯re already drawing enough looks.¡±

    Olan looked around casually, noted that Adeline was correct, and quickly sheathed the sword. Next to him, Alyssia sighed at her absent-minded brother¡¯s antics.

    ¡°They¡¯re very weak runes individually,¡± Adeline explained. ¡°Each of them generates a very small amount of light, but by using more of them at the same time¡­¡±

    ¡°The light increases. That¡¯s clever.¡± Already, Olan had a distant look in his eyes, as he began to consider ways to adapt the design for his own creations.

    Alyssia rolled her eyes. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ve lost him,¡± she announced.

    Oliver grinned, the familiar rhythms of his siblings helping him relax¨Cuntil Adeline prompted him with an elbow to his side. The knight gave him an encouraging smile.

    Alyssia noticed the exchange and arched an inquisitive eyebrow. ¡°I assume we¡¯re getting to why you actually wanted to see us, Oli?¡±

    Oliver clenched his jaw, and nodded. ¡°Well¡­ part of it was that I wanted to tell you what happened. With dad and all of that. I didn¡¯t want you to just hear his side of the story.¡±

    Alyssia nodded. Her gaze flicked from Oliver to Adeline and back. ¡°I figured. But there¡¯s more, isn¡¯t there?¡±

    Oliver nodded seriously. ¡°Well¡­ Adeline offered me a place in her order. Just as a squire while I¡¯m training, but either way, I¡¯m going to take it. And that means tomorrow, I¡¯m leaving Elliven.¡±

    Olan¡¯s eyes refocused, and he and Alyssia turned towards each other. They had a brief, silent exchange of facial expressions that Oliver could only make out pieces of. His brother¡¯s encouragement was as obvious as his sister¡¯s trepidation.

    Nonetheless, Olan turned back to Oliver and tipped his chin in approval. His voice was uncharacteristically serious when he spoke. ¡°Of course you are. I¡¯m proud of you, little brother. Alyssia and I¡­ we had it easy, in some ways, compared to you. Father approved of the paths we decided to walk. But he was always trying to set your feet on the path he wanted for you. One you didn¡¯t want. He never really understood why that was a problem.¡± Olan met his brother¡¯s eyes, and very slowly held his hand out across the table. ¡°Good luck out there, Oliver. And know you¡¯ll always have a place in my home, whenever your path brings you back here.¡±

    Stunned by his brother¡¯s serious words, Oliver took Olan¡¯s hand and shook it. Then he was even more surprised by Alyssia standing up, and pulling him into a tight hug. ¡°Stay safe, Oli,¡± she whispered in a voice tight with tears. ¡°And just know we love you.¡±

    Oliver found his own throat suddenly choked by emotion, and didn¡¯t trust himself to answer. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his sister and hugged her back. For a moment, he remembered the offer Adeline had made the day before, to help him get his feet under him. He could be a sentinel, like Alyssia. He could stay with his siblings, he could learn to put up with his father.

    But he knew that wasn¡¯t his road. Not anymore.

    So he returned Alyssia¡¯s hug, and silently promised himself that he¡¯d come back to see the two of them as soon as he could.

    Adeline stayed quiet through the emotional exchange¨Cuntil a teary eyed, red faced Alyssia took a step back from Oliver and pointed a threatening finger at the knight. ¡°And you! You¡¯d better keep him safe!¡±

    Adeline held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll make sure he¡¯s ready before he goes out on his own.¡±

    ¡°So where to first?¡± Olan asked, wiping one eye, his tone curious despite the hoarseness in his throat. ¡°Terase or Arsilet? The Twin Cities?¡±

    Adeline scoffed and waved a hand. ¡°Nothing like that. You need to be an Adept before anyone will take you seriously in Arsilet, and Terase is a little too rigid for me. I need to relax this little piece of iron.¡± She rested an affectionate hand on Oliver¡¯s shoulder.

    He glared up at her, the familiar expression on the teenager¡¯s face drawing a chuckle from Adeline and his siblings alike. ¡°You haven¡¯t even told me where we¡¯re going yet,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°Oh, calm down. I¡¯m thinking about Correntry.¡±

    ¡°The trade city?¡± Alyssia asked, surprised.

    ¡°Mmm. The trade cities are excellent places for low level gifted to get some experience,¡± Adeline explained. ¡°And the trip there will give me plenty of time to get Oliver¡¯s swordsmanship into shape.¡±

    Oliver narrowed his eyes. ¡°Really? I thought I was rather decent with a sword.¡± He admitted.

    Adeline patted his shoulder consolingly. ¡°I know you do. And so does everyone else your age. So I need to start with beating that out of you.¡±

    Olan and Alyssia burst out laughing at the knight¡¯s mock-sympathetic tone. ¡°I take back my reservations,¡± Alyssia managed through a fit of giggles. ¡°You¡¯re just what little Oli needs.¡±

    Oliver rolled his eyes¨Cthen he grinned, finally feeling certain that he had made the right choice.

 Chapter 16 - Tenebres

    The caravan trundled down the high road, and Tenebres was ready to go insane from boredom. The boy was leaned back in his seat, tattered canvas cloak pulled over his closed eyes, desperately wishing that he possessed the same knack for sleeping in the back of a shaking, rocking, creaking, uncomfortable wooden wagon that the brawny laborer sitting across from him was currently demonstrating

    Tenebres resisted the urge to sigh and firmly reminded himself that finding this caravan several days before had been an incredible stroke of luck. The small sack of coins he had found hidden in Kellen¡¯s office before he left the compound behind had been more than enough to buy his way in the column of ramshackle wagons, scruffy laborers, lazy guards, and reclusive travelers. Supposedly, they were en route to one of the trade cities. Tenebres didn¡¯t know which one, as he had tried his hardest to avoid spending too much time with any of the couple dozen people who traveled with the caravan for their own reasons. Mostly, they had been willing to accept him as just one more traveler who had attached himself to the convoy for the safety of numbers on the open road. The inhuman features that had manifested with his gift were odd, but generally ignored. Plenty of wraiths possessed traits far stranger than his, even after his recent transformation.

    To those few who had approached him anyways, like the gregarious laborer he had ended up sitting across from today, he simply explained himself as a boy from one of the nearby villages, heading to the city in hopes of getting his gifts and making it big. No one had tried to pry any deeper than that, and so the invented story Tenebres had spent days coming up with had yet to be told. Which was maybe, just a little bit, kind of insulting. Did no one want to hear about Johanson, the cruel miller who had told him he¡¯d never amount to anything? Or Dottie, the kindly weaver who had let him apprentice with her long enough to earn his way to the city?

    Really. If nothing else, it was unprofessional of the guards! He could be anyone! He could even be a demon-summoning former cultist who had murdered a score of people with his dark powers!

    Not that he would characterize himself that way. It had been self-defense, and he hadn¡¯t learned to control his gift yet.

    But still!

    Abruptly, the cart jostled to a halt, and Tenebres looked around in surprise. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± He and the large man sitting across from him were the only people riding on this wagon¨Cthe rest of the covered bed was full of various crates and canvas bags full of things he didn''t care about. There wasn¡¯t even a driver¨Cthe wagon had simple runes of force spinning its wheels, controlled by a crystal the head merchant kept on him, and it was simply tied to the next one in front of it so it would stay on course.

    The big man blinked away sleep and looked around, his eyes unfocused. ¡°Hrngh¡­¡± His lazy gaze swept around, and he shrugged his broad shoulders. ¡°Must be bandits.¡± he finally declared.

    Tenebres was not nearly as casual about the apparent attack. ¡°Bandits? Shouldn¡¯t we¡­ I don¡¯t know, do something?¡± Even as he asked, a half dozen rough men and women, all armed and wearing a motley assortment of boiled leather and crude chain, rushed by the open back of their wagon. The guards¡¯ faces were hard, clearly ready for trouble, and they already held their weapons at the ready.

    The laborer looked at him, arching a heavy eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s why the boss pays for guards, kid. Besides, I thought you didn¡¯t have any gifts. What are you gonna do?¡±

    Tenebres wasn¡¯t exactly reassured. Anyone relegated to guard duty for a ramshackle caravan like this wouldn¡¯t exactly be the best and brightest. They¡¯d be lucky if any of the guards even had a Warrior gift, much less the second gift that would get them to Novice level. He swallowed hard, making a focused effort to not lift a hand to his chest, where he could feel the brand left by the gift of the void seared into his flesh. That yawning gate hungered, but Tenebres had refused to yield to its urges in the weeks since he left behind the bloody remains of the cult compound he had nearly died in.

    Tenebres

    Level: Pre-Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Void]: +5 will and charm

    Attributes:

    Strength: 3

    Resilience: 4

    Stamina: 3

    Coordination: 4

    Speed: 3

    Will: 11 (6 + 5)

    Knowledge: 7

    Focus: 5

    Awareness: 5

    Charm: 10 (5 + 5)

    Even as he considered the power that had been burnt into his soul, he looked up at the sound of more figures running up from the back of the caravan. At first he took them as more guards¨Cbut they looked even more slovenly, the rough but serviceable iron weapons the escorts bore replaced by knicked, rusted swords and crude wooden clubs with nails jutting out of them.

    ¡°Uhm!¡± Tenebres all but yelped as one of the bandits peeled away from the group and approached their wagon. The noise drew the seemingly unconcerned attention of the laborer across from him.

    The rough, unshaved bandit gave the two a yellow-toothed grin as he approached. ¡°Well, lookee here! Ain¡¯t you a pretty one!¡± the man said, his eyes darting up and down Tenebres¡¯s lithe figure, obvious even under his cloak.

    The wraith boy ground his teeth¨Cnot with frustration or even anxiety, but at the way his brand seemed to start burning from the man¡¯s approach. It was as if it knew that Tenebres might need to use it soon.

    His plan was to make for Emeston, the trade city along the southern coast, so that he could find someone who knew more about his new gift, someone who could help him understand and eventually control its power. Tenebres wasn¡¯t really afraid of the bandits¨Che was more afraid of what would happen if he lost control of whatever he summoned, the same way he had back in the subterranean ritual chamber.

    As if sensing his hesitance, the description of his gift appeared in front of his eyes, tempting him.

    [Gift of the Void]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 28%

    Embrace the Void

    Abilities:

    [Void Invocation] - Active, Summon - Open a gate and beckon a fiend to cross over. Nature and power of the fiend as well as ability cost varies based on the strength of the invocation. Sufficiently powerful fiends may be difficult to control. Moderate duration.

    [Sacrificial Victim] - Active, Final - Make a physical attack that does a small amount of dark damage on a hit. If this hit kills the target, receive a moderate boost to all physical or mental attributes for a lesser duration. Minor focus cost.

    [Enshadowed Soul] - Boon - Major boost to will and charm.

    Tenebres had never heard of such a gift, even in his studies of the Mage¡¯s gifts. Of course, he had never heard of anyone receiving a gift from being tied up and almost sacrificed either, so he was far from an expert. And he couldn¡¯t deny the power inherent to the abilities¨Cit had been a desperate and subconscious use of the Void Invocation that had summoned the horrifying entity that had slaughtered Kellen and the other cultists, including his parents. But the summoning had left him drained, bloodied, and completely unable to move. He had to figure out how to review his attributes before he found that the summoning had sapped his strength, stamina, resilience, and speed all at once to beckon the seemingly invincible demon.

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    Since then, he hadn¡¯t used either of his void powers. He had no interest in paying such a price to summon an uncontrollable demon, nor in putting someone in the same situation he had been in, being sacrificed for the sake of power. Despite that, his single use of the ability had spiked the gift¡¯s experience far faster than he thought possible. Still, ¡®embracing the Void,¡¯ as the gift urged him to do, did not appeal to him, given the nature of its powers.

    But at this point, did he even have a choice? There were clearly more bandits than guards. They must¡¯ve done something showy at the front of the caravan to stop the wagons and distract the sentries, while the rest snuck up from behind. If he didn¡¯t try something, the entire caravan might be pillaged. He could end up dead, or worse, a prisoner yet again, slated for some new horrible fate. That was unacceptable. Almost without meaning to, he felt the gift of the void beginning to activate, the invocation responding to the justifications he was already lining up.

    Then he noticed the laborer sitting across from him. The brawny man had the thick, dull slabs of muscle that years in his trade cultivated, but he wore simple canvas clothes, without a single piece of armor on him. Despite this, he was relaxed as ever.

    ¡°Find a different wagon, friend,¡± the man suggested quietly. As he did, he shifted his weight, and a wooden haft fell from the bench to lean against his leg. It was the handle of one of the heavy sledge hammers the laborers used for breaking down rocks on the road, pounding wagon axles into place, and securing poles in the ground.

    The bandit¡¯s eyes went wide, and he looked from the laborer, to Tenebres, to the stock of the wagon behind them. He licked his lips, a nervous gesture that, combined with his pinched face, gave him a decidedly rat-like appearance. ¡°I¡¯ve got a gift too!¡± the bandit tried to boast. ¡°Some laborer gift don¡¯t mean you can take me!¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± The big man shrugged his titanic shoulders. ¡°Only one way to find out though.¡±

    The dirty little man took a hesitant step backwards at the laborer¡¯s laconic tone, noting that he clearly wasn¡¯t intimidated.

    ¡°See, the boss ain¡¯t the richest guy in the world,¡± the laborer continued. ¡°But he knew this stretch of road had a bandit problem, so he made sure to hire some men who knew how to handle themselves, Warrior gift or no.¡±

    The outlaw went a little pale, and took another step back. Tenebres was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t even aware of his motion, but the porter was clearly watching him closely. The big man casually gave Tenebres a knowing wink, and darted a quick look up at the top of the stretched canvas covering on the wagon.

    Tenebres followed his gaze, and noticed what the man had seen. There was a shadow, carefully balanced on one of the wooden bows that held the canvas aloft. His heart lurched a mile a minute at the sight¨Cthe man might have successfully intimidated the first bandit, but Tenebres wasn¡¯t sure if he could actually win against the one, much less a second.

    ¡°Course,¡± the big man continued, ¡°he was also happy to accept a few other travelers who asked to join us for this leg of the trip.¡±

    The rat-faced bandit took another step back, and apparently that was far enough. The shape overhead moved to the end of the wagon¡¯s frame, and the bandit¡¯s face went stark white when he saw whoever it was.

    ¡°W-warden!¡± the bandit cried in fear¨Cand it proved to be the last word he ever spoke, as a wave of flames suddenly flashed down from the bonnet of the covered wagon, a torrent of fire that lasted five, then ten, then fifteen seconds before it finally let up. What fell to the ground couldn''t be easily recognized as a human.

    More impressive to Tenebres than the violence was the lack of heat that reached him. From this close, the wash of flames should¡¯ve been like sitting next to an active forge, possibly dangerous even at a remove, but instead, the air in the wagon stayed as temperate as ever. It had to be some sort of gift power he had never heard of, controlling even the backwash of heat.

    The shadow jumped from the bonnet with a grunt of exertion, landing between the rear of the wagon and the charbroiled remains before standing and fixing the two occupants with a pleased look. Tenebres couldn¡¯t make out all of his features under the hooded, dark green cloak he wore, but what he did see was a grin on a weathered face.

    ¡°That was well done,¡± the man¨Cthe warden¨Ccomplemented the worker sitting across from Tenebres. ¡°Do you really think you could¡¯ve dealt with him?¡±

    The man snorted derisively, leaning back in his seat. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have needed to find out either way. He was ready to run even before you showed up.¡± He sniffed through one nostril, a dismissive sound. ¡°Now, you boys got this, or should we start running?¡±

    The face under the hood cocked a crooked grin. ¡°We should be fine from here. I expect the wagons will start rolling again any moment now.¡±

    The warden barely finished speaking before another man ran up to him, clearly coming from the front of the column. Like the fire mage, he wore the same moss green cloak, but his hood was pulled down to reveal a young man, maybe in his early twenties, with a broad, honest face that matched his brawny build. ¡°Barnaby, how¡¯s it going back here?¡±

    ¡°Fine. Sartoh is taking the majority of them by the back, but a few are trying to slip through and do a snatch and grab. If you go help him, I can handle them.¡± The first warden paused, looking over the younger man. ¡°Siroh?¡±

    ¡°Yessir?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s your weapon?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ it broke sir. I figured I¡¯d help myself to one of theirs.¡±

    The older warden sighed, and the laborer offered, ¡°If you¡¯d excuse me sirs, I¡¯ve got this?¡± He hefted the sledgehammer casually, as if the iron head didn¡¯t weigh twenty pounds by itself.

    The younger warden grinned and shook his head. ¡°Not much my type of weapon, but thanks.¡± An idea flashed over his face, and he asked, ¡°Actually¡­ you wouldn¡¯t happen to have some wood back there? Wheel spokes or something of the sort?¡±

    The laborer blinked in surprise and turned back to take stock of the supplies the wagon was burdened with. In short order, he and Tenebres had passed a couple armfuls of wagon wheel spokes to the younger warden. The young man passed his hands over the rods, each about an inch in diameter, and Tenebres watched with wide eyes as they quickly started to squirm like a bushel of snakes. The rods writhed and twisted around each other, and in only moments, they had transformed into two knotted wooden cudgels.

    The warden lifted the twin weapons, swinging them experimentally, and nodded with approval. ¡°Much obliged,¡± he thanked Tenebres and his companion, before turning to jog to the back of the caravan.

    The older warden watched him go, muttering something under his breath derisively. ¡°Keep that hammer on hand, good man,¡± he advised in a louder voice. Then he jogged off too, in search of the bandits that had passed them by earlier.

    Within minutes, as promised, the convoy was rolling forward again. None of the other outlaws made it to Tenebres¡¯s wagon, and the fight remained a distant affair he could just barely hear. As he could still make out the sounds as they caravan rolled on, he assumed the distraction in the front and the bandits that had snuck in amidst the chaos had been dealt with, and the wagons were now trying to get clear of the lingering fight between the wardens and the outlaws.

    ¡°Hey, mind if I ask you something¡­ uhm¡­¡±

    ¡°Arl,¡± the laborer finished for him. The man had introduced himself that morning, but the name went in one ear and out the other. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°Right, Arl. Sorry.¡± Tenebres coughed to clear his throat, slightly embarrassed. ¡°Who were those men?¡±

    ¡°What, the wardens? You don¡¯t have them where you come from?¡±

    ¡°No, I know them,¡± Tenebres explained. Of course, his familiarity with the wardens came from the other side¨Cthey were a constant source of anxiety for Kellen¡¯s cult. The skilled men and women who dedicated themselves to ensuring the safety of the high roads and trade routes that the local cities and villages relied on. ¡°I mean the bandits. That one the warden killed, he said he had a gift, right? Couldn¡¯t he have just found work in one of the cities?¡±

    Arl sighed heavily. ¡°Probably, kid. Probably. But some men always want the easy way out. Why work for food, or money, or anything else you want, when you could just steal it?¡±

    Tenebres blinked at him, then looked back down the road thoughtfully. ¡°Because then you end up dead on the side of the road?¡±

    Arl gave a loud bark of laughter at the response. ¡°Good answer!¡± he said. ¡°Course, some of them take a liking to it. And once you¡¯ve got the wrong gift, there¡¯s no going back.¡±

    Tenebres looked up sharply, and his brand started itching. ¡°The wrong gift?¡±

    The man nodded, his face going sour. ¡°Aye lad. Most bandits are like that idiot who was trying to threaten us. If they¡¯ve got any gift, it¡¯s usually some totem or ensouled item they managed to steal. But there are archetypes who like a man that steals and hurts and kills for a living. You got the Rogue and the Tyrant archetypes, and the dark gifts some of the nastier monsters out there can give a willing person. The wardens spend as much time hunting those forbidden gift bearers as actually patrolling the roads, I hear.¡± Arl shook his head. ¡°Bad stuff, that.¡±

    Tenebres had stopped paying attention. He had lifted a hand to his chest, to feel the brand carved into flesh, right above his heart. It was burning again, feeding on his torment. Forbidden gifts? He hadn¡¯t known anything about those. None of his books had ever mentioned them, and Kellen certainly wouldn¡¯t have wanted his underlings to know that they could get power from some dark archetype like that. If gifts could be forbidden¡­

    He thought about the abattoir the fiend had made of the ritual chamber he was nearly sacrificed in. If any gift could be forbidden, his gift of the void certainly was. He suspected that whether he wanted it or not didn¡¯t matter, not anymore. A gift could never be given up or removed, willingly or by force. He was trapped with the fiendish power Kellen had accidentally bestowed on him, and those same wardens who had saved his life today would roast him as easily as that bandit if they knew.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Arl drew out the word, clearly feeling the tension that had built up between them. In an attempt to change the subject, he asked, ¡°Whatcha heading to Emeston for again?¡±

    ¡°I want to take one of the Mage¡¯s exams,¡± Tenebres said instantly. He knew the words were true even as he said them. He needed to get another gift, and soon, before anyone tried to pry into the one that he was hiding.

    Arl nodded cautiously. ¡°That sounds good. A little bookish for my taste, but good on you.¡± The man¡¯s head continued bobbing as he reached for any other words to keep the conversation going. ¡°You know kid¡­ you¡¯re a bit weird, aren¡¯t you?¡±

 Chapter 17 - Cadence

    ¡°So you know that Storyteller guy, right?¡± Brian asked Cadence. The two were sharing space in the shade underneath a tree on the outskirts of town. Brian was absently snapping a twig, throwing the pieces idly, while Cadence braided together pieces of the soft grass they were sitting on into a little rope.

    ¡°The wandering adventurer that saved my life? Yeah, I guess you could say I know him.¡± Cadence replied sarcastically.

    The response made Brian flush slightly, the look of embarrassment softening his features and making him appear younger than his seventeen years for a beat. ¡°I know that, I just mean¡­ like, he¡¯s been living at your place, right?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Cadence¡¯s tone wasn¡¯t quite sharp, but it certainly wasn¡¯t soft either. There had been a time she was closer to Brian than anyone else in Felisen, but things had changed. ¡°I don¡¯t really think he stays anywhere, honestly. I think if he held still for a day he might die.¡±

    ¡°But I always see him up by your place.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s meeting with my mom, Brian. You know, the chief hunter? To discuss the training? That he¡¯s giving to the hunters?¡±

    Brian scowled. ¡°Don¡¯t remind me.¡±

    ¡°Going poorly?¡±

    ¡°He made me fight Denning yesterday! Denning! He''s twice my size, and a higher level too!¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t hunters supposed to be above complaining about stuff like that?¡±

    ¡°Well I¡¯m barely a hunter, so I¡¯m going to keep complaining, thank you very much.¡±

    Cadence rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve got both my gifts now too, remember? Maybe you should start focusing, or I¡¯ll be the one kicking your butt soon.¡±

    Brian huffed, clearly embarrassed. ¡°Whatever.¡± He winced, turning in place a little to stretch his back. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna go see Ellie.¡±

    Cadence stiffened a little. She kept her eyes down on her braid of grass. ¡°Ellie?¡±

    Brian blushed again, the reaction a lot more honest than his words. ¡°Yeah. Y¡¯know, uhm, Bridget¡¯s daughter? She¡¯s trying to get her alchemist gift while Storyteller is here. I¡¯ve been uhm¡­ letting her practice her potions on me.¡±

    Cadence felt a flash of jealousy that made her frown, and she thoughtlessly ripped up her braid of grass. ¡°Okay. Have fun with that,¡± she told Brian, pushing herself to her feet.

    ¡°Cadence?¡± Brian asked, confused by her reaction.

    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta go. Some of us actually want to learn from Storyteller,¡± she told him briskly before storming off.

    The boy watched, confused, as she left.

    ¡°Ass,¡± she hissed under her breath.

    #

    ¡°Okay, now that I have the hunters in hand, we can start on your lessons.¡± Storyteller told Cadence. His normally dull brown eyes had shifted to bright yellow shortly after they sat down together, and Cadence listened closely.

    The pair were seated on the ends of two stone benches at the top of the bonfire hill, facing each other. A gentle wind playfully danced around the hilltop while they spoke.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the nature of gifts, and go from there.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Cadence sat eagerly in front of Storyteller. She had always been curious about the unique powers that defined life in the Realm, but always had to content herself with what scraps she could pick up from the older gift bearers in town. Now that she had gifts of her own, and a more knowledgeable mentor than she ever could¡¯ve hoped for, she was excited to finally get some answers.

    ¡°So, what do you know about gifts already? That seems the simplest way to start.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Cadence drew out the word thoughtfully. ¡°They¡¯re the form of magic that¡¯s easiest to access, right? Reagents and other stuff that¡¯s been infused with magic is great, but gifts are what actually allow us to use magic ourselves instead of just making things that are magical.¡±

    ¡°Somewhat correct,¡± Storyteller corrected her gently. ¡°Gifts are not actually a form of magic, but a modification to our souls that allow us to tap the magic that already exists in the world. Do you understand?¡±

    Cadence frowned in thought for a long moment, before reluctantly admitting, ¡°No, I don¡¯t. What¡¯s the difference?¡±

    Storyteller smiled approvingly. ¡°Good. This is the sort of thing some adherents of the Mage spend their lives studying. If you claimed to get it immediately, I¡¯d know you were lying.¡± The adventurer gestured around them. ¡°Magic is one of the foundational building blocks of our world. You have better reason to know that than most¨Cthe entire life cycle of this village is built around the ebb and flow of magic throughout the seasons.¡±

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    ¡°Right.¡± Cadence nodded along. ¡°My mom told me about that. It¡¯s why there¡¯s the most monsters to hunt and reagents to gather in the winter and spring, but the least in the summer.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. And that is another important trait of magic you¡¯ve been raised to be aware of. Since magic is a fundamental component of our world, it can alter the nature of the flora and fauna that populate the world if it gathers in sufficient density.¡±

    Cadence blinked. ¡°Uhm. I think you lost me. I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯re still speaking the same language, but I don¡¯t know like¡­ half of those words.¡±

    Storyteller smiled, and for a moment his eyes flicked back to brown. His manner instantly relaxed, and he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. ¡°Sorry about that. Uhm, let me rephrase¡­ When enough of the magic in the environment, what we call ambient magic, builds up, it can start changing things, giving magical properties to plants and animals and such.¡±

    ¡°Like glintcaps!¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± At some point in Storyteller¡¯s explanation, his eyes had gradually brightened to the eerie shade of yellow again. Cadence was starting to think it was an effect of one of his gifts. Did her own eyes change color when she used Soul Surge? ¡°Glintcaps are a type of mushroom that absorbs life-aspected magic, giving it healing properties. We generally call these magical substances reagents, or imbued materials.¡±

    ¡°The same process that turns a mushroom into a glintcap can also transform other living things, like rodents, insects, or even weeds. Enough of it can even affect larger things like trees and full grown animals. While there are some words for certain types of these beings, like bramble-spawn or dire vermin, they¡¯re collectively referred to as magical creatures, or simply monsters.¡±

    ¡°What does any of this have to do with gifts though?¡±

    ¡®I¡¯m getting to that,¡± Storyteller chided Cadence. ¡°What¡¯s important to know is that magic is incapable of changing humans in the same way, thanks to our souls. Souls give us personalities and thoughts and, some believe, free will. In many ways, they define what a human is, as only the most ancient of animals or plants are able to develop a soul of their own. But the most important aspect of the soul is that it acts as a sort of insulation, keeping the ambient magic from altering us the way it can transform other living things.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ our souls are some kind of anti-magic?¡± Cadence asked. She lifted her hand up to her face, examining it as if she expected to see her soul through it.

    Storyteller chuckled. ¡°Not quite. No one is exactly sure why a soul does what it does. It¡¯s another of those questions sages spend their lives pondering. What matters, for our purposes, is the end result. Our souls keep us from absorbing magic, which limits us to working with external sources of magic.¡±

    ¡°Like reagents.¡±

    ¡°Yes, like using reagents for alchemy, or forging weapons using aracite or brannen.¡±

    ¡°So our gifts are a way around this?¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s unnatural eyes glittered. ¡°Very good. Yes. Gifts alter the nature of our souls, allowing them to intake limited amounts of magic in very specific ways. The gifts direct the magic we passively absorb, affecting us through the ten attributes, and trace patterns that our souls use for actively shaping that magic. That is how our abilities manifest.¡±

    Cadence considered her own abilities, and with barely a thought, they both popped up before her eyes.

    [Gift of the Wanderer]

    Novice level

    Experience: 2%

    Explore new places and understand the heart of an adventurer to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Know Direction] - Active, Utility - Learn the direction of true north. No cost.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] - Active, Utility - Learn rudimentary knowledge about any single target. May not work on exceptional or rare targets. Minor Focus cost per use.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Mantle] - Boon - Moderate boost to your Stamina and Awareness attributes.

    [Gift of the Echo]

    Novice level

    Experience: 0%

    Use abilities on unique targets to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Gift Reflection] - Active, Soul - Copy one gift ability from a nearby target. Gift abilities operate at Novice level regardless of the target¡¯s level. Abilities from certain gifts cannot be copied. This ability has a one hour cool down, but the copied ability is retained until it is used again.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    Soul Empowerment - Boon - Minor boost to all attributes.

    Augments:

    [Gift Divination] - Wanderer, Echo - Active, Utility, Soul - Learn the gifts possessed by a target. Can only be used on targets your level or lower.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what these abilities actually are? They¡¯re just the gifts showing my soul ways to use magic?¡±

    ¡°Just so. It¡¯s a gradual process, which is why you start off with just two abilities per gift. You¡¯ll find that leveling up will both increase the complexity and strength of your abilities, and eventually even allow new abilities to manifest.¡±

    Cadence absently turned over her hand, looking at her wrist, and at the bright blue brands that appeared there as she received her gift. The interaction of the rippling circle of the gift of the echo and winding road of the gift of the wanderer gave the impression of a path slowly meandering towards a setting sun, or perhaps a rising moon. She quite liked the imagery, and its ambiguity.

    Suddenly, her head shot up. ¡°But I don¡¯t have four abilities, I have five,¡± she told Storyteller. ¡°Is that because of my gifts? Because they¡¯re special?¡±

    The tall man waved a hand. ¡°No, not at all. That fifth ability you¡¯re referring to is your augment.¡± He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and said, ¡°Gift divination, right?¡±

    Cadence blinked in surprise. ¡°Yeah! How did¡­ Oh. Right. You have the same gifts as me.¡±

    Storyteller nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t get either gift until a higher level than you, but I¡¯m familiar with the essentials of how they interact.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s an augment then?¡± Cadence asked. ¡°How does that fit in?¡±

    ¡°Well, I told you that gifts are essentially patterns carved into your soul, making channels for magic to enter you. Think of augments as being produced where those patterns meet¨Cthey¡¯re different for every combination of gifts, and often represent the most unique and powerful pieces of a gift bearer''s skill set.¡± Storyteller gestured at Cadence¡¯s brand. ¡°Just look at your own. By itself, the gift of the echo is a potent support tool. In a capable, practiced team, it would allow you to always add to whatever the most needed role is. Reflect a caster and you can add additional damage from afar, or reflect a defender to add extra protection for your team.¡±

    ¡°Gift Divination changes that. By combining the utility toolset of the gift of the wanderer with soul-related powers of the gift of the echo, you get an ability that lets you learn about others¡¯ gifts. It¡¯s a simple power, but it turns gift reflection into a potent weapon, letting you throw your opponent¡¯s attacks right back at them.¡± Storyteller gave Cadence a rueful grin. ¡°It¡¯s not going to be the most useful ability for a while, since you can only use it on people your level or lower, but it¡¯s going to be central to your skillset as you level up.¡±

 Chapter 18 - Cadence

    Storyteller¡¯s words, unsurprisingly, had brought a dozen more questions to Cadence¡¯s mind, but one stood out above the rest. ¡°You mentioned leveling up. How does that work then?¡±

    The sun was inching towards the horizon, and both Storyteller and Cadence knew they¡¯d need to make their way down from the bonfire circle soon, but the experienced adventurer was clearly enjoying teaching Cadence as much as she enjoyed learning.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Storyteller started to respond to Cadence¡¯s question, then paused, instead offering her a sly look. ¡°How do you think it works, with what you know about gifts so far?¡±

    Cadence suppressed a little flicker of irritation at man¡¯s tone. If there was one thing she hated, it was being talked down to. But she didn¡¯t think he was doing it intentionally. Normally, when people used that tone with her, it was an effort to just get some peace from her often endless questions, but with Storyteller, it seemed like he was actually interested in her response.

    So instead of expressing her initial reaction, Cadence considered the question, and what the Storyteller had told her so far. ¡°Well¡­ if my gifts get stronger, and can even grow new abilities as I level up then it¡¯s like¡­ the magic flowing through the gifts is making them grow, right? LIke, uhm¡­¡± Cadence remembered a problem her mother had to deal with a couple years before, and she smiled in understanding. ¡°Like when we had a bunch of rain, and one of the streams in the forest got redirected. The rushing water carved a new part of the river through the earth while it was all loose and soft. The magic is like the water, and my soul is like the ground being shaped by it!¡±

    Storyteller blinked in surprise, and even his eerie, ominous yellow eyes showed shock. ¡°Well¡­ yes. Exactly right. As our gifts channel energy into our soul, those paths become broader and more well-used, allowing them to both deepen and expand. Our attributes grow as our souls become more capable of taking in magic, our abilities expand as the patterns of the gifts become more firmly entrenched into our souls, and new abilities form as the gifts expand within us, just like that river you described.¡±

    Cadence beamed in pride. It took a moment for Storyteller to recover from his surprise, and Cadence eagerly pounced on the opportunity to get in another question. ¡°So how do I do it then? My mom always said leveling up was really dangerous, it¡¯s why it¡¯s so hard for hunters to get to higher levels.¡±

    Storyteller cleared his throat, and Cadence could tell he was still trying to get his balance back. She hid a satisfied smirk¨Cit was rare to see the mysterious man off his groove, and she was proud that her answer had surprised him so much.

    ¡°Right, well. For your mother and the other hunters here, I have no doubt that it is,¡± he acknowledged. ¡°Every gift has its own way of leveling up. For the gift of the hunter, like Ryme and the others have, successfully tracking and defeating increasingly powerful foes is the key to gaining experience. Weaker enemies will work too, but much more slowly¨CI imagine no small number of hunters test themselves against more powerful monsters too soon, and get hurt or killed for the effort.¡±

    ¡°And relic gifts are a big problem too, right?¡¯ Cadence asked, remembering the conversation she had with Old Man Callahan the week before. ¡°Like my mom¡¯s bear gift, or Brian¡¯s spear.¡±

    Storyteller seemed a little less surprised now, and just quirked a small smile at Cadence to convey his approval. ¡°Relic gifts are a little different. They use the magic in an item as a way to artificially carve a gift into the soul¨Cbut that gift is less fluid and powerful than a conventional gift. Instead of growing deeper on its own, it needs to be expanded by adding more and more powerful items to empower it.¡± He shook his head with a frown. ¡°You¡¯ll find, as you explore the world more, that relic gifts are often looked down on. They¡¯re seen as a shortcut for the wealthy and lazy, or even an economic tool to limit the growth of commoners.

    He shook his head more forcefully. ¡°But that¡¯s beside the point. You¡¯re lucky enough to not be trapped by a relic gift, so we¡¯ll leave that topic aside for now. Most gifts, like those given by the Divine Archetypes, level up in the way we discussed, but in different ways, depending on the nature of the gi-¡±

    ¡°But my echo gift didn¡¯t come from an Archetype,¡± Cadence cut him off. ¡°Why does it follow the same rules?¡±

    Storyteller huffed with all-too-familiar exasperation. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. Suffice to say that my ability to give you the gift of the echo uses the same principles as an Archetype, okay? Stay with me, I¡¯m trying to talk about how you actually level up your gifts.¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± Cadence squirmed in her seat a little. She had only just started getting the answers to questions she had spent her entire life asking, she didn¡¯t want to upset Storyteller now!

    He just chuckled. ¡°Curiosity is a fine thing, Cadence. I think you¡¯ll find it a boon once you get out of this town. But you¡¯ve still got to let me talk too, okay? Believe it or not, I¡¯m going somewhere with all of this.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t until she noticed his more casual language that Cadence realized Storyteller¡¯s eyes had shifted back to brown. How was he jumping back and forth like that?

    Cadence had to physically bite her bottom lip to keep the question from bursting out of her. Instead, she nodded silently.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Storyteller told her with a small chuckle. ¡°As I was saying, you¡¯re fortunate in that your gifts don¡¯t actually require combat to level up. The gift of the wanderer just wants you to explore¨Cthe more new places you see and new experiences you have, the faster your gift will level up. The gift of the echo is similar, but for your soul. As you find new ways to use Gift Reflection and Soul Surge, you¡¯ll find your gift getting stronger.¡±

    Cadence smiled at that, her previous questions forgotten for the moment. ¡°Really? No fighting? I just have to use my gifts and explore, and I¡¯ll get to level up?¡±

    Storyteller lifted a hand up, holding it flat and tilting it back and forth. ¡°In some ways. I find, for an adventurer, combat is more or less an inevitability. It¡¯s a big part of what we do, and we¡¯re going to spend a lot of our training time getting you used to your new abilities and attributes. But unlike someone with a more direct combat-related gift, you won''t find yourself chasing more and more dangerous fights just to level up.¡±

    ¡°I like that,¡± Cadence admitted, her eyes darting back down to her brands. She bit her lip again as she realized, not for the first time, that she was growing more and more excited to leave Felisen. To see the world, to explore.

    To be free.

    She just hated that the thought always came coupled with the image of her mother, left here alone.

    ¡°So,¡± Cadence asked, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thought, ¡°you and my mom talked about getting a third gift. That¡¯s at Initiate level, right? How does that work?¡±

    Storyteller considered the question, then turned towards the horizon. The sun was truly setting now. ¡°This is the last topic for the night, okay? I know you have a lot of questions, but I¡¯m supposed to entertain at the Honeyed Pear tonight.¡±

    Cadence brightened. ¡°Really? Can I come?¡±

    ¡°Ask your mother,¡± Storyteller told her with a grin. ¡°And stay focused, remember?¡±

    ¡°Right! New gifts!¡±

    ¡°Yes, new gifts. Leveling up comes in a few phases. First, at Novice level, you get your first two gifts. This opens your soul to the flow of magic, but the abilities you have are still rudimentary, and the boosts you have to your attributes are small. Once each of your gifts reach Apprentice, you¡¯ll find your abilities growing in complexity and power, as your soul grows used to the magic being channeled through it.¡± Storyteller paused, and added, ¡°I should clarify. While your gifts level up independently of each other, you¡¯re not truly considered to have reached the next level until all your gifts are at that level. So even if your wanderer gift reaches Apprentice before your echo gift, you¡¯d still be considered a Novice.¡±

    Cadence nodded brightly, and Storyteller continued. ¡°After Apprentice comes Initiate. At this level, your soul has been reinforced enough by magic that not only will you find your attributes boosts improving, your soul will have sufficient strength to accept another gift. It will need it, in fact¨Cyour gifts can¡¯t advance past Initiate without a third gift at the same level. So you¡¯ll need to find and accept a third gift, and raise that gift from Novice to Apprentice, then to Initiate. Once you do so, all three of your gifts will be able to make the jump to Adept. Generally, Adept is seen as the beginning of true power for gift bearers. It¡¯s where your boosts will begin truly surpassing what a normal person could do, and when your gifts will generally unlock a third ability.¡±

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    ¡°And what¡¯s after that? You have four gifts, right? How high level do you need to be for that?¡±

    Storyteller held up his hand. ¡°That¡¯ll be enough for now, Cadence,¡± he told her. ¡°It¡¯s getting late, and it¡¯ll be at least a few years before the second tier of levels is relevant to you. I think I¡¯ve dumped enough information on you today.¡±

    Cadence frowned, but only for a moment. Storyteller wasn¡¯t going anywhere, not any time soon. And once he did leave, she¡¯d have the chance to follow him. There was no need to get all of her answers today.

    ¡°Okay.¡± She accepted reluctantly. ¡°But tonight¡¯s story better be a good one!¡±

    ¡°It will be,¡± Storyteller reassured her. It wasn¡¯t a brag on his part, it was simply a statement of well-founded fact. ¡°And you¡¯d better enjoy it¨Ctomorrow, we start your physical training. We¡¯ll start with having you join the hunters for their practice sessions.¡±

    Cadence blanched. Sure, she had teased Brian about that, but she didn¡¯t actually think... ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡±

    Storyteller had already turned to walk down the hill, and didn¡¯t turn around to respond.

    ¡°Storyteller!? Please tell me you¡¯re kidding!¡±

    #

    The Honeyed Pear was packed. Normally, the tavern primarily catered to the town¡¯s dozen or so bachelors¨Cmostly loggers who went into the forest to fell magical and mundane trees, as well as a few of the single hunters. On holidays and weekends, it was normal for the taproom to host a larger number of the townsfolk, but Cadence had never seen the pub so full on a weekday.

    Word had gotten out that Storyteller wasn¡¯t just a title¨Cit was an apt descriptor of the man, who had proven himself a skilled orator with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of legends, myths, tales, and adventurer stories. Cadence suspected that many of his stories were actually accounts of his own journeys, with the edges sanded down to make them easier for the people of Felisen to digest, but he had an equal number about fantastical beings, like elves and dwarves and dragons, that everyone knew didn¡¯t exist outside stories. It had apparently gotten to the point that even families were patronizing the Pear, complete with a large number of the village¡¯s children.

    Cadence sat at a table with Denning, and Ryme arrived not long afterwards. Even Old Man Callahan had shown up this time. The Pear¡¯s serving girls hustled around, pouring drinks, serving up bowls of steaming stew with hunks of bread, and collecting copper rings for their work. The tavern bustled with jovial conversations, gentle chatter, and even the occasional bawl of a baby, but all of that stopped as Storyteller took his place by the mantle. Quickly, the cacophony dropped to a susurrus of excited whispers, and even that faded soon after.

    The Honeyed Pear didn¡¯t boast a performer often enough to merit a true stage, but Storyteller¡¯s height still made him easy to see from across the room, and the seats had been subtly arranged to face towards the cheery fireplace.

    When Storyteller spoke, his voice was a smooth, gentle baritone that effortlessly rolled through the room. From where she sat, with the fire behind him, even Cadence¡¯s improved awareness wasn¡¯t enough to make out the color of Storyteller¡¯s eyes, but she was sure that this was another one of his faces. Maybe, given his name, it was the most genuine one of them all.

    ¡°Hello, friends,¡± Storyteller greeted the gathered crowd. ¡°Thus far, I have entertained you all with stories of heroism and derring-do, great deeds, felled monsters, and rescued innocents.¡± Storyteller¡¯s face was sober and remote, and as his gaze panned over the room, Cadence was sure his eyes paused on her a moment. ¡°Tonight¡¯s story is different. But despite that, it is important, and I hope you all will hear it well.¡±

    The entire audience seemed to lean in imperceptibly, like an indrawn breath, and Storyteller began his tale.

    #

    In a time before the bastion cities, the Wastes, or even the Realm, there stood a grand and glorious fortress. The fortress was built for a purpose we still know all too well¨Cto protect those who lived inside. But this was a fortress unlike any other, before or since. It was massive, a labor of generations, large enough to fit an entire city within its stout walls. Terraced roofs bore great gardens, courtyards acted as city squares, and neighborhoods existed in hallways rather than streets. The fortress was strong, and its people lived happy lives.

    Looming over the fortress city stood the palace of its king. The strength of the fortress was the king¡¯s duty, and so he ruled from his throne room at the top of its highest tower. From this perch, he could survey the surrounding lands like a great map spread out before him. His army stood tall, and though the threats that charged the fortress seemed endless, they never broke through the adamant walls, ensuring that the people of the city below lived lives of peace.

    But we all know that peace is something to be cherished when we have it, for it is a gift more fleeting than any other. In time, even the peace of the fortress was doomed to one day end.

    As the king watched from his perch in the tallest tower, he was always the first to see any threat approach his fortress. And so his eyes were the first to gaze upon the terrible monster that stalked towards the high walls that safeguarded his people. The fortress had faced many monsters in its years, and the king and his men had stood against them all without fear in their hearts. But none had been as terrible as what now bore down upon their haven.

    Despite the terror the beast inspired, the king¡¯s duty was to find some way to fell it, as he always did. But as he looked over the massive monster, his heart began to sink. Its skin was lined with scales of blackest night, and its teeth were sharp as swords. The mere swipe of its tail could reshape mountains, and its every step flattened entire forests. It was to the monsters that came before it as the fortress was to the simple towns its people had once lived in¨Cit was an apex, a pinnacle, and the king could only hope that the strength of the fortress would prove enough to slay the monster.

    The king called to his banners, the three greatest heroes of his city, and he told them of what he had seen. The only advantage he could provide them was the monster¡¯s speed. Though it was inexorable, the king claimed it would yet take three more days for the doom to reach the fortress¨Cthree days that they had to slay it.

    The first of the banners was a bold champion, beloved of the Warrior. With bright steel and unflinching courage, he had long led the king¡¯s armies, and he volunteered to take the fight to the monster. On the first day, he led the collected armies of the fortress, thousands strong¨Cbut he quickly found that the same strength that had bested a thousand thousand foes since the fortress¡¯s walls rose was insufficient to fight the great monster before them.

    Their strongest weapons shattered against its scales, while its very breath sapped the life of the brave men and women who fought it. With every step the beast took, hundreds of soldiers died. In the end, the armies of the fortress were decimated before the champion himself made it to the head of the beast. He struck with his legendary sword, and he impaled the monster¡¯s eye itself, where no scale could protect it.

    The beast let out a resounding roar at the wound¨Cand the sheer sound of the monster¡¯s pain killed the few soldiers who still faced it. The fortress¡¯s armies had failed, and its champion never returned.

    On the second day, the king turned to the next of his banners, a wise and learned archmage, who had mastered each of the five magical arts and who knew deep and arcane secrets forgotten by the rest of the world. The archmage assured the king that, though she did not know the identity of the monster, there was no way it could withstand her greatest magics.

    The archmage enchanted the weapons along the fortress¡¯s wall. Magical ballista bolts and balls of flaming stone sailed from the fortress to assail the monster¨Cbut the archmage found its scales as impenetrable as the champion had. Next, she conjured assassin spirits and deadly sendings, seeking to destroy the monster¡¯s soul and siphon away the magic that kept it alive. But the spirits withered and faded as they approached the great destroyer, unable to sustain themselves in the face of its fell soul, and the archmage¡¯s sendings found themselves unable to take hold.

    For the entire second day, the archmage released every spell in her arsenal upon the monster, and saw each fail in turn. Finally, as the sun set on the second day, the archmage threw herself from the wall of the fortress in despair, unable to face the failure of her magic.

    By the second night, the peace the fortress had once known was nowhere to be seen. Now, its people knew fear. They knew that two of the king¡¯s banners had gone to fight the monster and not returned. They knew that the armies that had kept them safe had fallen. In their peace and comfort, they had grown complacent, and unless the monster was stopped on the third day, their world would end.

    Desperate, the king pled with the last of his banners, an ancient adherent of the Primal. He begged them to save the fortress and its people, but the ancient one refused. They told him that the nature of the world was cyclical, and that nothing, not the fortress, not its people, not the king, and certainly not peace, were eternal. All things had their end, and that end had come for the fortress.

    Desperate, the king claimed that even if that were the case, surely the monster could not be immortal either. Though it had proven resistant to all attacks so far, if the wisdom of the Primal was true, then even the destroyer could meet its end. The ancient one finally told the king that they could destroy the beast, but only at the cost of the fortress itself.

    On the dawn of the third day, the king acquiesced. If his people were to die, he decided, let them die with purpose.

    The ancient one went to the wall, to the same point that the archmage had fallen from. The monster was now close enough that they could meet its eye and see the scars left by the champion. It breathed the foul breath that had rotted away the armies of the fortress, but the winds swirled around the ancient one and blew them away. It focused the fell presence that had corroded the archmage''s spirits, but the ancient one¡¯s soul was as bedrock, and would not be worn away by the destroyer¡¯s will.

    The ancient one finally raised their hands, and they called to the Primal¨Cand the eldest archetype answered.

    The king watched from his tower as the earth split and the sky opened. Stone turned to fire poured out around the monster''s feet¨Cand began to wear away at the wall of the fortress even as it melted through the beast¡¯s scales. Lightning fell from the heavens like raindrops, striking great furrows in the beast¡¯s revealed skin and in the fortress¡¯s ramparts alike with every moment that passed. Nature itself, the Primal¡¯s domain, turned against the monster, and though the fortress paid the price, the rest of the world was spared the beast¡¯s rage.

    The fortress fell centuries before the Realm would rise, but we remember its lessons. We remember that nothing is eternal, that peace is to be cherished but never hoarded, and that when the worst comes, heroes will always rise to face it.

    #

    As the story ended, the audience sagged back in their seats like a long held breath exhaled. Not a sound could be heard from the assembled people of Felisen. Even Ryme seemed speechless.

    Silence reigned in the Honeyed Pear as Storyteller surveyed the room, nodded to Cadence, and left without another word.

 Chapter 19 - Oliver

    As promised, Adeline had found a job to occupy the two of them on the trip from Elliven, in the eastern heartlands, to Correntry in the west. Though she had paid for the services of a fast coach to traverse the Lumber Road, Adeline insisted on stopping their trip halfway down the route, near the rest village of Bensil, where there had been reports of kobolds. She had even paid the coach driver a few extra scepters to compensate him for the time they spent journeying to the crumbling ruins of an old mill north of Bensil.

    It seemed abandoned, and Oliver almost succeeded in convincing Adeline that the lead was wrong before the kobolds returned from a hunt, a deer carcass in their scaled hands. And then, of course, the outsiders attacked.

    Oliver¡¯s sword flashed up and smoothly parried a clumsy stroke from one of his opponents¡¯ crude clubs. Even as he did, he neatly stepped to the side, years of training carrying his body a few inches away, so that the second enemy¡¯s spear stabbed into open air rather than through his ribs.

    Unwilling to lose the opportunity, the boy¡¯s free hand grabbed the spear. Even with his strength boost, he wouldn¡¯t be able to fight his opponent¡¯s sheer physical power for long, but he only needed to hold the wooden haft in place for an instant so that his sword could whip in a short, brutal chop that cleanly sheared off the top half of the monster¡¯s spear.

    The kobold hissed at him and took a pair of clumsy steps back, throwing the useless haft of the spear aside. Of course, destroying the reptilian monster¡¯s weapon didn¡¯t really disarm it, considering the wicked talons at the end of each of its thick, stubby fingers.

    Thick and stubby were accurate descriptors for nearly everything about the three monsters encircling Oliver. Kobolds were the weakest and most common outsiders to enter the Realm from the Feral World, but the many tribes of the lizard-like beasts were diverse, boasting a wide array of physical characteristics. The swamp kobolds Oliver had heard of previously were more slender, with slick, slimy skin. His teachers had compared them to salamanders, small swamp lizards that shared some of the kobolds¡¯ potent regenerative abilities.

    These kobolds, however, according to Adeline, were members of the desert tribe. They were heavier and more stout than their swamp-dwelling cousins, covered in a layer of thick brown scales. This made them slower than the kobolds he had learned about when he was still studying in the hope of becoming a sentinel, but they more than compensated for that lack with physical strength and sturdiness. So far, he had yet to succeed in landing a decisive blow on any of the three outsiders.

    Oliver kept himself carefully balanced on the balls of his feet, waiting for his opponents to make their next move. He didn¡¯t want to get too aggressive out of respect to their numbers. If he committed to trying to cut one down, the other two might have an opening to attack him. So he waited until the short-tempered monsters hissed and, almost in unison, lunged forward. Two swung their clubs, crude woodens weapons with stone tied to the end, while the former spear wielder lashed out with his claws.

    Oliver tried to hop to one side, the speed and coordination of his gift of wind helping him keep his balance despite the clumsy movement, before lashing out with the most basic power of that same gift.

    [Gust Blast] - Active, Attack - Manifest a gust of wind straight in front of you. Inflicts little direct damage, but can disorient or physically move enemies. Moderate quintessence cost.

    A burst of pressurized air blasted out from his hand even as he was moving. The sudden gust wasn¡¯t intense enough to throw back the heavy kobolds the way it would lighter opponents, but it still buffeted them enough to create a moment of hesitation, two lifting clawed hands to cover their eyes as the wind kicked up a significant amount of the dirt and dust that coated every surface of the old, ruined building they were fighting in.

    That was the moment Oliver had been waiting for. His improved coordination was just enough to keep his improvised hop from sending him to the ground, and he immediately pivoted, springing forward towards the one kobold who hadn¡¯t been blinded by the burst of wind. The kobold hissed and swung its own club to meet Oliver¡¯s sword, but even as the weapons met, Oliver activated one of the abilities his gift of the vanguard had given him.

    [Reckless Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Major stamina cost.

    Reckless Strike was a simple special attack, but it was all Oliver needed to take down his first enemy. His sword, the same runeblade Adeline had given him nearly two weeks before, was enhanced enough that it cut straight through the kobold¡¯s primitive weapon, continuing forward to slice through the thick scales on the monster¡¯s chest as smoothly as if through cloth.

    The kobold fell in a gout of bright emerald blood, hissing in agony, and then a club struck Oliver from behind and threw him to the ground. He still wasn¡¯t used to how draining Reckless Strike was, and he was too exhausted from the cost of the special attack to catch himself. Instead he went tumbling along the rough rock floor of the ruined building. Acting on pure instinct, he released another blast of wind, hearing the impact as it forced the kobolds rushing at him back a step.

    Desperate to buy enough time to get his feet under him, Oliver pointed his rune blade at the closer of the two lizard monsters, and released the force stored within. Just as it had done in the fight with Allid months before, it threw the wild monster back half a dozen feet, sending it into its own sprawling tumble. But that only bought Oliver a second to stand up before the club-wielding kobold was upon him.

    Oliver barely managed to parry the fierce impacts of the monster¡¯s club, every swing forcing him back a step. His arms felt heavy after the stamina cost of his Reckless Strike, which was proving itself to be aptly named, as he was now too tired to keep up against the monster¡¯s assault. Using it so early had been a massive risk, and even boosted by the gift of the vanguard, he didn¡¯t know if his stamina pool was enough to safely use the attack a second time.

    Oliver gritted his teeth. He had made another mistake, using the force blast from his runeblade. Wind Slash would have served just as well to keep the monsters back. He should¡¯ve saved the one time release of kinetic energy for making an opening when he was getting forced back like this. Already, he could see the unarmed kobold stagger to its feet behind his current opponent. Once it rejoined its ally, they¡¯d be able to pile on him.

    Then, with a sudden and starling crash that shook the ground underneath him, the wall of the mill abruptly collapsed inward in a cloud of stone and dust. The shock of it earned Oliver a reprieve, his opponents just as surprised as he was. Adeline came dancing through the hole with an imperious laugh, a shining longsword clutched in each hand. Even surrounded by a cloud of grime, the beautiful knight was like a beacon of light to Oliver¡¯s eyes.

    Chasing after her was the monster that must¡¯ve destroyed the wall, another desert tribe kobold. It was built along the same lines as Oliver¡¯s enemies, with broad shoulders, strong arms, thick scales, and a stubby tail, but it was at least three times their size. He had read that the lizard-like outsiders never stopped growing, shedding their skin and becoming slightly larger with each passing year, but that meant that the monster Adeline was fighting must¡¯ve been ancient, by kobold standards.

    The giant gave a bellow and swung a club that probably weighed more than Oliver or Adeline, but the knight-gallant was never in any danger. She twirled her golden sword in one hand, so that its blade was pointed straight down at the ground, and a golden quarter-dome of energy sprang up between her and the descending club. There was a brilliant flash, and the club rebounded. The sheer weight of the ricocheting club was enough to pull even the massive monster off-balance, sending it staggering backwards.

    Rather than take advantage of the monster¡¯s instability to strike, Adeline turned to look at Oliver, a fierce fighting grin stretched across her face. ¡°Oli! Are you really still fighting those three? Come on, get it together!¡± Still smiling brightly, the knight struck a statuesque pose with one leg lifted, her twin blades held parallel across her body.

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Instantly, Oliver felt like a fire had been lit within him. It wasn¡¯t a reaction to his mentor¡¯s beauty and attitude¨Cor at least, not solely that¨Cbut a product of her gift of passion. The gifts of the Artist archetype were rare among the high court, who saw them as frivolous, but Oliver knew from his sister that the buffs they could provide were valued heavily by the career sentinels actually risking their lives in the Wastes.

    Adeline¡¯s gift of passion, for example, couldn¡¯t truly heal him. But it shared some of the radiance of Adeline¡¯s soul to rally his own exhausted heart, and Oliver¡¯s stamina instantly rebounded. He felt his lips stretch into a mirror of his mentor¡¯s grin, and he lunged forward at his still-reeling foe.

    You¡¯ve been affected by [Passionate Inspiration]

    You¡¯ve recovered a moderate amount of stamina and focus

    The kobold hurriedly tried to interpose its own weapon, but the stamina restoration Adeline had provided allowed him to use Reckless Strike again safely. While the giant brute she was fighting had likely absorbed enough magic in its lifetime to have some innate potency in the natural armor of its scales, the smaller kobold Oliver was fighting had no such benefits. It had no way of resisting the raw magic enhancing Oliver¡¯s attack, and just as it had with the first enemy he downed, his sword cut cleanly through the kobold¡¯s crude club and stabbed deeply into its chest.

    Even after using the draining special attack, Oliver felt bursting at the seams with energy, and he was forced to admit that it was likely as much from Adeline¡¯s presence as the actual power of her gift as butterflies rushed to his stomach. He seized the advantage, and before the remaining kobold could close in, he swung his sword through the open air in the direction of the monster.

    [Wind Slash] - Wind, Vanguard - Active, Attack - Use a bladed weapon to make a ranged attack delivered through hardened air. Damage and quintessence cost depend on the weapon used to make the attack.

    A ripple seemed to move through the air, a barely visible projection of the augment he had gained from the combination of his vanguard and wind gifts. It sliced across the unarmed kobold¡¯s chest as if Oliver had hit it directly with his sword, despite the dozen feet between them. Of course, since it lacked any innate potency, the blade of wind was unable to do much more than scuff the lizard¡¯s solid scales.

    Which was why, even as the monster barreled toward him, Oliver made a similar motion and sent another blade flying at the kobold. Then another, and another. With every step it took, the kobold endured another wind blade across its chest, its face, its limbs. Scales began to chip and wear as the stinging force of the continued wind slashes started to force more hisses of pain from the monster.

    While Oliver¡¯s vanguard attack used his stamina as its cost, the elemental powers of his gift of wind drew from his quintessence pool, a vague source of power granted by the Primal that Oliver had yet to fully understand. Nevertheless, it meant he could use those abilities repeatedly without repercussions, not exhausting himself the way his stamina abilities would¨Cand the wind blade created by his longsword was a relatively weak, low-cost attack. Even after using the more expensive Gust Blast earlier in the fight, he had enough quintessence left to send nearly a dozen more slashes of razor-sharp air at the kobold before he ran dry.

    After that assault, the kobold was in little shape to defend itself when Oliver finally closed the gap between them.

    [Gift of the Vanguard] experienced gained

    Experience: 12%

    [Gift of Wind] experienced gained

    Experience: 9%

    #

    ¡°That was terrible,¡± Adeline said bluntly, after the fight was over. While Oliver had been engaged in a fight he barely won, the blonde knight had never even seemed in danger against her massive enemy. Once she saw that Oliver had finished off his own foes, she simply stopped playing with the brutish kobold. Within less than a minute, it was little more than a pile of bleeding meat.

    She flicked off one of her longswords as if it weighed no more than a twig, the monster¡¯s green blood flying off the blade as if unable to adhere to the metal, then flicked it in the opposite direction. The sword simply vanished, returning to wherever she conjured the weapon from.

    Oliver was sitting on the ground, his legs spread in a wide V, reclining with his arms behind him while he caught his breath. Tired as he was, he still spared the more experienced knight a feeble attempt at a glare. ¡°It was three-on-one!¡± he protested. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you expected!¡±

    Adeline shook her head. ¡°I expect you to fight like the neophyte knight I know you are, not like a frightened boy trying to not to commit in case he gets hit.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s lips gathered together in a petulant expression. ¡°I thought that was the whole point of fighting, to hurt the enemy more than they hurt you.¡±

    Adeline¡¯s bright silver eyes flashed with intensity, and she reached down to grab the boy by the collar of his shirt. Without any noticeable effort, she forced him to his feet, then off the ground, his toes dangling an inch above the dirt. ¡°You¡¯re not a noble anymore, Oliver. You made the choice to walk away from that life, remember?¡± Adeline met his eyes when she spoke, her voice as intense as her gaze. ¡°You¡¯re not fighting in show duels. You¡¯re fighting for your life. You''re outnumbered? Too bad. Maybe you need to take a couple hits to even the odds. The gift of the vanguard gives you a defensive ability for a reason.¡±

    Oliver set his chin defiantly and started to shoot back a reply¨Cbut before he could, Adeline¡¯s hand flashed up in front of his face, thumb and middle finger poised for a quick snap. With the knight-gallant¡¯s Adept level speed and precision, the noise was as clear and sharp as an icicle cracking, more than enough to make Oliver flinch and cut off his sour retort.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t care what you have to say right now, Oliver,¡± she told him firmly. ¡°You¡¯re as good as any Novice I¡¯ve ever worked with, and better than most¨Cwhen you¡¯re not getting in your own way. You insist on fighting carefully, conservatively. But guess what? If you wanted to fight like that, you should¡¯ve gone for that gift of the fencer your father wanted for you, or the gift of the guardian. But you didn¡¯t. You earned the gift of the vanguard. And you know why?¡±

    Oliver frowned, but it was more thoughtful than petulant now. ¡°Because of how I fought with Allid,¡± he answered, his voice pensive.

    Adeline blew out a breath, and let go of his shirt, letting him drop to the ground. ¡°Exactly. In your duel, you were bold and aggressive. You were willing to do what you had to to win. That is how a vanguard fights. It¡¯s a gift designed for fighting on the frontlines, leading the way for your team or working completely on your own. I watched you, Oliver. You didn¡¯t even use your defensive ability, did you?¡±

    Oliver frowned, but didn¡¯t contest it. ¡°It¡¯s hard to leave myself exposed like that. I¡¯m used to doing everything I can to avoid being hit in the first place.¡± As if to taunt him, the other ability the gift of the vanguard had provided appeared in Oli¡¯s vision.

    [Reinforced Defense] - Triggered, Defense - When blocking an attack, your equipment is treated as one tier of potency higher. Each time this is triggered, there is a minor focus cost.

    ¡°Too bad. You need to adapt to your gift. Otherwise you¡¯re just wasting your abilities. If you had trusted your defenses to handle an attack from weapons as pathetic as those,¡± she emphasized the point with a sharp motion to the crude wooden weapons the kobolds had preferred, ¡±you could¡¯ve accepted a minor hit to get in a lethal counter.¡±

    Oliver swallowed, but nodded reluctantly, admitting his mistake.

    ¡°You¡¯re wasting your other gift too,¡± Adeline paused and took a breath, shaking her head and reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder ¡°Look, just¡­ think about it, okay? I¡¯m not always going to be there to help you.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s head shot up at the seemingly off-hand remark. He knew that Adeline was an important person within the Argent Order, with her own responsibilities, but it still made him feel stung, and even a little sick, to consider her leaving him behind.

    ¡°Going somewhere?¡± he asked suspiciously, wondering if she could hear his voice tremble from exhaustion and newfound anxiety at the prospect of ending up alone.

    Adeline rolled her eyes, a shadow of her customary smile returning. The slender hand lifted from his shoulder, smoothing down his battle-tangled hair. ¡°One day, Oli. I can¡¯t just play teacher for you forever. But that¡¯s not going to happen any time soon.¡± She paused, as if a thought occurred to her, and added, ¡°Well, unless you die. But I¡¯ll cross that bridge when I get there.¡± The words could¡¯ve been cruel, but Adeline delivered them with a playful look that made the joke clear.

    Oliver rolled his eyes, but smiled shyly back at his mentor, the joke releasing some of the tension that had built up in his chest as she tucked an errant lock behind his ear.

    ¡°You¡¯re better than you think you are, Oli. You¡¯re still letting that asshole who raised you convince you otherwise. You need to stop it¨Cor you¡¯re never going to get any better.¡±

 Chapter 20 - Allana

    Allana leaned back against the table behind her, looking over the map Geoffrey was studying so intensely. They were in what she had come to think of as his war room, the place where he planned all of his operations. Off against one wall was a cluttered desk piled high with files, scrolls, books, and document cases. Allana had been surprised to find that the assassin¡¯s trade was as much one of paperwork and study as it was subterfuge and killing.

    Other workbenches scattered around the room held a hundred different items Geoffrey used in the course of his business. Some, like the multiple coils of rope, each of different textures and thicknesses, or the collection of grapple hooks and fine, glass cutting knives, were obvious in their use. Others, like the collection of broken, cloudy fragments of glass, held in an elaborate chain by brass wire, were more eclectic. The large table in the center of the room was kept mostly clear, as it was their actual workspace to prepare for their jobs.

    The longest wall, opposite the door, held the most impressive feature of the room, a massive map of Emeston, rendered in greater detail than Allana had ever seen. The map stretched nearly from the floor to the ceiling, and was coated in some sort of alchemic substance that allowed Geoffrey to make and erase marks on it using a series of colorful pieces of wood. Together, they covered the map in an intricate series of symbols in several different colors.

    The green marks were the most common, representing places monsters had been reported. There were, apparently, many more monsters in the massive urban sprawl of Emeston than Allana had ever believed, and hunting and killing them occupied much more of Geoffrey¡¯s attention than any contracts to kill actual people. Allana had gathered, in the past several weeks helping him, that several others throughout the city did similar work, but that few took out as many of the naturally occuring dangers as Geoffrey. On the bright side, brick golems and dire vermin had proven to be excellent training opportunities for Allana, who had only really fought humans or wraiths prior to starting her work with Geoffrey.

    Next were the red and blue marks, indicating Geoffrey¡¯s more mundane targets and their known locations and haunts, as well as those of his most trusted allies. He accepted as many as three contracts at a time, with the stipulation that they¡¯d be completed on his own timetable. Only dangerous or influential targets were brought to a man like Geoffrey, and it wasn¡¯t worth his life to rush a job. Allana knew he was offered many times more contracts than he actually accepted, but he refused to explain the seemingly arbitrary conditions he used to choose those he would take and those he¡¯d deny.

    Allana didn¡¯t understand the practice. It made sense to be careful and cautious in a job like this, she could accept that, and Geoffrey had taught her far more than she even knew there was to learn about the arts of intelligence gathering and location surveilling. But if it took that long to safely close out a target, why not focus on the highest cost bids? Why turn down an assassination of a vicelord worth more money than Allana had ever seen in one place, but accept a hit on a chandler that paid barely a third the amount? Allana hadn¡¯t even known what a chandler was until she spent a long pair of days in hiding, watching the old man make and sell his candles.

    But then, one of the red circled targets was the familiar block of conjoined buildings that served as Telik¡¯s lair, so she had little cause to argue.

    Finally, least common on the giant map were the purple marks, which indicated the presence of outsiders. Those were the marks Geoffrey was focusing on now, a dissatisfied look on his face as he pondered them.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t get it,¡± Allana finally said, after what felt like nearly an hour of silence. ¡°So there¡¯s not a lot of them. There shouldn¡¯t be, right? We¡¯re nowhere near a Waste.¡±

    Geoffrey blew out an impatient breath and made a brusque gesture at the map. ¡°There should be more than this though,¡± he insisted. ¡°I¡¯ve hunted these things for years, and this isn¡¯t right.¡±

    ¡°Are they hiding then?¡± Allana asked the obvious question. Geoffrey often seemed to get distracted by these unimportant details. Who cared about outsiders? They were the wardens¡¯ problem.

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Geoffrey muttered, unconvinced. ¡°These aren¡¯t hags from the Chained World, though. Emeston is most closely connected to the Ruined World, and trust me, the undead are not very subtle.¡± His eyes flicked around the map. ¡°Undercrawl, maybe?¡±

    Allana shuddered. A coastal city like Emeston had to be built with measures to contain occasional floods. Those runoff tunnels combined with a bewildering array of sewers, dry docks, and natural caverns to form what the locals called Undercrawl. It was the most dangerous, not to mention disgusting, part of the city, and that was saying something. Allana had entered the topmost portions of that repulsive place a few times in her life, most recently with Geoffrey, hunting a nest of dire spiders, but she had no intention of delving any further into it any time soon.

    ¡°If you want to go plunging the depths of Undercrawl, feel free,¡± she told him. ¡°Just give me something else to do while you¡¯re gone. And a key to this place, in case you don¡¯t make it back.¡±

    Geoffrey threw a wry smile over his shoulder at the girl. ¡°Yes, yes, I get it. I¡¯m fixating. How about you call it a night?¡± The foppish man reached between the layers of this flowery tunic and pulled out a small leather bag, which he tossed to Allana. ¡°Good work this week.¡±

    Allana caught the little pouch, and tossed it experimentally in her hand, enjoying the soft clink of coins jingling against each other inside the pouch. Getting paid was new to her¨Cpreviously, her money came from stealing, or from the occasional gift Telik saw fit to give her when she did something to earn his favor.

    Like a pet performing a trick. Allana grimaced, and tried to ignore the train of thought before it could build up steam.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re right, though,¡± Geoffrey said, his voice distracted, as Allana moved towards the exit. ¡°Might be time for you to start doing some jobs without me. Rogue knows you¡¯re good enough.¡±

    Allana cocked a smirk at the man¡¯s back, somehow confident that he knew what expression she was wearing without him even turning towards her. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in a couple days, Geo.¡±

    The blonde man lifted an absent hand in a wave, his eyes still studying the map on the wall, and Allana slipped away, her steps silent in the hall.

    #

    ¡°I¡¯unno if I need my meal anymore, Porg! I think this lil treat looks plenty appetizin¡¯.¡±

    Allana had been pondering the amber liquid in her glass, wishing it was as high quality as the liquor Geoffrey kept in his office and wondering if she could find out where he got the expensive alcohol, when the loud, drunken voice drew her attention.

    She had no rightful expectation of privacy, sitting at a table alone in the middle of the Blackened Claw. The drinking hall wasn¡¯t quite reputable enough to call itself anything as sterling as a ¡°pub¡± or even a ¡°tavern,¡± but it was a comfortable place that catered to many of the mid-ranked individuals within the more influential illicit organizations in Emeston. As a well-known thief and ward of Telik, that included Allana, and even in a room of dangerous criminals, her reputation earned her table a small, albeit respectable, amount of space.

    Of course, her reputation was an armor made of little more than whispers and shadows unless she took steps to reinforce it.

    The boy¨Cdespite his sheer size, she just couldn¡¯t think of Vernen as a man¨Cswaggering towards her was also a part of Telik¡¯s organization, as was one of the two smaller boys standing behind him. He was broad of shoulder, long of arm, and thick of gut, with a mop of lank, mud-colored hair. She was very familiar with both him and Porgit, the smirking, weasel-faced dirtbag standing with his arms crossed behind his oversized friend. They were around her age, orphans, like her, adopted as investments by Telik. Allana absently wondered if they were as oblivious as she had been to their patron¡¯s true intentions for them.

    She didn¡¯t recognize the third figure standing near Porgit, a sweet-faced boy in all black, with an odd grayish pallor and a feminine flare to his hips she couldn¡¯t help but notice, given the tight leather of his pants and vest. He was too soft to fit in with the two swaggering bullies, but he was pretty enough. She hadn¡¯t realized Vern and Porg were moon lovers, but hey. Good for them.

    Less good for the new boy, though. She had forced the two to back off of whores who hadn¡¯t appreciated their attentions more than a few times over the years.

    ¡°Really Vern?¡± Porg¡¯s nasally voice joined his slurring friend¡¯s. ¡°Why would you wanna fuck an eggplant?¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Allana frowned. Jokes about her more unique characteristics as a wraith, like her deep purple skin, were far from new, but they grated on her every time.

    Vernen threw back his head in an obnoxious guffaw of a laugh at his friend¡¯s joke, and Allana, never one to miss an opportunity, calmly tossed back the last of her drink and promptly pitched the empty glass at his throat. Her gift of poison granted a moderate coordination boon, and the improvised projectile flew with perfect aim to shatter against his neck, failing to even draw a scratch. Unfortunate, but Allana had expected as much. Like her, Vern and Porg were Apprentice level, and she knew Vern had a resilience boost from his gifts. Telik probably planned for the oversized boy to be his full-time bodyguard, once he hit Initiate. Either way, against boosted resilience like his, the glass was unable to do much more than startle Vern.

    Which it certainly did. The drunken boy¡¯s head snapped down, fixing a glare on Allana. ¡°You¡¯re gonna fuckin¡¯ pay for that, bitch,¡± he swore darkly. His next few steps were just as lumbering as ever, but much more purposeful. His ensouled items, a set of heavy steel rings, appeared on each of his fingers as he moved towards her. The idiot.

    Allana may have spent the past weeks working directly with a dangerous professional killer, but Geoffrey¡¯s lessons had been far more focused on the trade of assassination than anything else. Allana¡¯s talent for violence predated her association with the master assassin. Pretty girls didn¡¯t survive in Lowrun unless they could take care of themselves.

    The first rule of fighting a larger, stronger opponent, particularly one with a combat gift, was simple: don¡¯t let them touch you. Allana didn¡¯t have any convenient ranged abilities, but that was fine. She was plenty capable of improvising. The oversized thug only made it a few steps before she moved, standing and kicking her round table at him. The table staggered Vern, slowing him down for a critical moment, and Allana flashed forward, conjuring one of her own ensouled daggers and, coated in a slick, off-green liquid.

    [Toxic Manifestation] - Active, Conjuration - Manifest a simple poison that causes ongoing resilience damage. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

    To be safe, Allana used the option she had gained at Apprentice level to make the more potent version of the poison. The augment of her two gifts allowed her conjured dagger to appear already coated in the poison, and by the time Vern batted the table aside with his boosted strength, she was inside his guard, dagger poised straight upwards under his prominent chin.

    The big idiot would never know it, but Geoffrey¡¯s lessons had saved his life. Though he hadn¡¯t taught her much about the actual how of killing, one of the recurring themes of his discussions with her was instead when to take a life, and why. It was those lessons that made Allana pause just before the tip of her dagger pricked his skin and exposed him to her poison.

    Her mind worked as quick as it could, forcing her to think rationally through the haze of anger. If she killed one of Telik¡¯s wards, there was no way he¡¯d continue honoring his agreement with Geoffrey. He¡¯d come looking for an explanation, at the very least, and Allana doubted her ability to stay calm in the face of the crimelord if she saw him now.

    ¡°Come on Allana!¡± Porgit whined at her from behind his friend, with all the courage of the rodents responsible for his gift of the rat. Vern was holding his arms out wide in submission, and his steel knuckles had disappeared. The drunken bully seemed too nervous to even move. ¡°He didn¡¯t mean nothing by it! You know how he gets when he¡¯s drunk!¡±

    Allana snorted in derision and took a moment to decide what she could do to Vernen without drawing Telik¡¯s ire. After all, if she just gave the huge boy some scars, the crimelord couldn¡¯t be too mad, right? It would make Vern look more intimidating after all! It could even be argued she was helping his reputation. And her own, with how easily she had handled him.

    She was about to ask Porg what he thought when she heard a soft voice, one that hadn¡¯t spoken so far.

    ¡°Then perhaps, as his friend, you should make sure he doesn¡¯t go running his mouth.¡±

    Allana smirked. The embarrassment of a taunt wasn¡¯t quite as fun as physically marking the oversized boy, but it had a certain appeal, too. ¡°Think you can manage that, Vern?¡± she asked him, trying her hardest to drop her voice enough to come off as gruff.

    The oversized boy did his best to nod without pricking his chin on the blade, like the coward he was. Allana sighed and slowly relaxed, lowering her dagger, and took a step back from Vern¨Ckeeping her poisoned blade at the ready, in case he proved more stupid than cowardly.

    The moment she stepped out of his reach, Vern spun around. ¡°What are ya talkin¡¯ about Seo? I was juss complimentin¡¯ her!¡±

    Allana was surprised to note that the person Vern was protesting to, the source of the soft, mocking voice, was the last boy, the one she hadn¡¯t seen before.

    Huh. Maybe he wasn¡¯t just a new boyfriend for the two thugs.

    ¡°You were dumb enough to hit on the one person in this whole fucking place who had people giving her space. And I¡¯m pretty sure you knew how she¡¯d react.¡± The boy, Seo apparently, smirked, looking from one bully to the other.

    Porg had sense enough to look slightly embarrassed at being called out, but it just made Vern angrier.

    ¡°Whose side are you on, you lil twit!¡± The swaggering ass called out, finding a more acceptable target for his anger. He rolled towards the boy, continuing his tirade. ¡°She¡¯s just some wraith bitch, and you¡¯re just some Novice newbie! You don¡¯t talk to me like that!¡±

    Allana tightened her grip on her dagger, ready to jump forward again. Telik or no Telik, she wasn¡¯t going to let the drunken thug beat a boy just for talking back to him.

    Seo rolled a pair of startlingly bright red eyes, seemingly unimpressed. His gaze darted downwards and he made a quick gesture with one hand, as if miming a punch.

    Vernen just seemed to fold in on himself at the motion, sliding to the ground with a breathless wheeze. For a moment, Allana thought her control had slipped earlier, that her poison had been coursing through his veins since he held him at daggerpoint, and had only just worn through his resilience. Then she saw where the heavyset boy¡¯s hands had gone.

    He was clutching his crotch.

    ¡°M-my fucking balls!¡± Vern wheezed.

    ¡°You little-¡± Porg pivoted on the other boy, his hand already transformed into the twisted, dirty claw of a rat. Seo responded with a sharp beckoning motion that sent a heavy tankard, still sloshing with ale, flying off a table behind Porgit. It traveled in a straight line ending in the back of his head, sending the smaller thug sprawling next to his partner in idiocy.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Seo asked, a bright grin stretched across his face. ¡°I thought I was just a Novice?¡± Vern struggled to lift his bowed head, mouthing some foul invective, and one of Seo¡¯s black leather boots lashed out in an abrupt kick that slammed Vern¡¯s mouth shut with an audible click. ¡°Rogue, you two are pathetic,¡± Seo mocked them as he stepped over their prone bodies, not bothering to give the two collapsed thugs a second glance.

    Instead, his eyes slid appreciatively over Allana¡¯s form. It was something she had grown used to over the past few years, ever since she really started developing. But whoever this Seo was, he did it right, in a way that lifted the corners of her mouth and brought satisfying blossoms of heat to her cheeks rather than making her feel dirty, the way Vernen and his ilk did. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he told her with a sheepish smile that Allana quite liked the look of. ¡°I¡¯m new in town. And clearly I made a poor choice in guides.¡±

    His smile turned from shy to charming. ¡°Can I buy you a drink to make it up to you?¡± A man a couple tables away made a loud grumble, and Seo flashed him a guilty look, reaching up to run a hand through his shock of white hair. ¡°And you too, of course, sir. Sorry about your drink, but it was the best thing I could find.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes at his obvious flirting¨Cbut she found herself smiling regardless. She gave him a once over of her own. As she had noted earlier, the boy¡¯s body had a distinctly feminine shape, with narrow shoulders and rounded hips. Combined with his face, sweet and heart-shaped but for his pointed chin, it gave him a noticeably androgynous appearance. His hair was bone white, worn long and tousled enough that Allana couldn¡¯t decide if it was sloppy or stylish, and the tips of his ears poked out through the strands, delicately arching in an unusual way.

    It was his ears that did it for Allana. Combined with the odd shade of his skin, somewhere between gray and tan, the color of his blood red eyes, and the stark white of his hair, those ears showed he was a wraith, just like her. ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± she agreed, much to Seo¡¯s evident pleasure.

    By that point, Vern and Porg had stumbled to their feet. Before either could start blustering again, Allana idly pointed her knife, still coated in poison, at the pair. ¡°Stop,¡± she ordered them curtly, trying to put a little bit of Geoffrey¡¯s steely authority into her voice. The pair pulled up short, trading nervous glances. ¡°Leave. You lost to me, then got your asses handed to you by a Novice. You¡¯ve embarrassed yourselves, and Telik, enough for one day.¡±

    The larger boy¡¯s face reddened with a potent and aggressive cocktail of anger and embarrassment, but Porg put a hand on the larger thug¡¯s shoulder. His own face had paled at the thought of Telik¡¯s anger, as she knew it would. ¡°She¡¯s right, Vern. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    Vernen¡¯s childish face twisted a few times, like he had eaten something both sour and rotten, before he finally spit, ¡°You¡¯ll get yours one day, wraith bitches.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes and turned back to Seo, clearly dismissing the two from her attention, and they stormed off without making a further display of themselves.

    Seo finally released a long breath, visibly relaxing. ¡°Thank the Mage they left¡­¡±

    Allana arched an eyebrow. ¡°Mmm? Seemed like you handled them well enough.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°A couple simple force missiles are one thing, but if either of them actually got their hands on me¡­¡± The wraith struck a little pose, gesturing over his slender frame. ¡°I bruise easily!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± She drew out the last word speculatively, still laughing to herself even as she righted the table she had used as a makeshift projectile. Across the bar, she caught the eyes of Bors, the burly bartender. He had been smart enough to avoid entangling himself in a disagreement between three of Telik¡¯s personal wards, but he still glowered at the abuse of his taproom.

    Allana lifted the small leather pouch Geoffrey had given her a couple hours before, jingling it in midair with an apologetic look. After a long moment, the big man sighed in acceptance, and she happily held up two fingers, ordering drinks for the both of them.

    Finally, she turned back to Seo. The two sat down at the table together, both of their eyes intent on each other, and for the first time she could remember, Allana didn¡¯t mind the company.

 Chapter 21 - Allana

    Allana and Seo sat in awkward silence until one of Bors¡¯ serving girls brought a couple more glasses for them. Both were filled with what should¡¯ve been amber liquid, watered down enough that it was more of a golden yellow color. Gloam whiskey was expensive, as it had to be fermented with certain reagents to acquire the magical potency needed to punch through a boosted resilience attribute.

    Unfortunately, Allana¡¯s gift of poison meant that the magic alcohol was a necessity if she wanted to get even a buzz, and unlike Geoffrey, she couldn¡¯t afford bottles of it straight. It was a common enough problem for Novices and Apprentices in Lowrun, and Bors had solved it in a way characteristic of the slums. Watering down the liquor retained its magical potency while letting the bartender stretch a single bottle three or four times as far.

    It also made it taste like water that had, at some point, sat in a barrel that had once been used to season whiskey, but beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers.

    ¡°I¡¯d be careful with that,¡± Allana warned Seo as the androgynous young man picked up his own glass. ¡°I¡¯m willing to bet you don¡¯t have a resilience boost, if you¡¯re as fragile as you claim.¡±

    The boy hesitated, staring down at his glass, then shrugged. ¡°Wisdom¡¯s never really been a strong point for me either,¡± he told her with a wink, before throwing back a swallow of the magically potent alcohol.

    Allana took a more conservative sip, her lips cocked into a smirk as she watched the proud little wraith try to contain the gagging cough that immediately shot through him at the burn of the liquor¨Cand fail.

    ¡°Blood and feathers!¡± the boy swore between coughs. ¡°What even was that!?¡± he finally managed to ask.

    Allana took another mellow sip from her glass before explaining, ¡°Gloam whiskey. It¡¯s made for people who need a little more punch in their booze.¡±

    Seo managed to collect himself pretty quickly, though little coughs kept slipping out, and his pale skin had flushed to a brilliant red in his cheeks. ¡°Wait¡­ it¡¯s magic booze?¡±

    ¡°Watered down magic booze,¡± Allana clarified, her smirk returning to her face. ¡°That you still couldn¡¯t drink.¡±

    Seo frowned down at his glass, then looked at Allana. She could see his pride warring with his common sense. Unsurprisingly, his pride won out, and he took another small sip. She was pretty sure he was trying to match her own pace.

    Her eyes dancing, Allana took a much deeper gulp of her own whiskey as a challenge. Seo¡¯s cheeks burned brighter¨Cbut he reluctantly put the glass down on the table.

    ¡°So, speaking of lacking wisdom,¡± Allana asked him, ¡°what brings you to Lowrun?¡±

    Seo grimaced. ¡°Uhm¡­ the usual, you know,¡± he told her. ¡°Opportunity, riches, all that.¡±

    Allana arched a brow at his words. ¡°Uh-huh.¡± She drew the sound speculatively. ¡°Has anyone ever told you you¡¯re a terrible liar?¡±

    Seo flushed again. Allana couldn¡¯t help but notice the heat of it noticeably spread out to the tips of his delicately pointed ears. He is far too cute for this sort of life. Too bad for him.

    Lowrun had a way of beating out that sort of sweetness.

    ¡°I ran away from home, okay?¡± Seo admitted with a groan. ¡°It just sounds so childish when I say it like that.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm. One of the villages, I assume?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. My father was a trader that runs between a few of the towns, making a little profit at a time, essentially just moving supplies around.¡±

    ¡°And you,¡± Allana guessed, ¡°decided that you knew enough about what he did to take your knowledge to the big city, and earn yourself a cozy mansion up in Highreach, right?¡±

    ¡°Well, when you say it like that, it sounds even more¡­¡±

    ¡°Naive? Immature? Innocent? Stupid beyond mortal reckoning?¡± Allana¡¯s voice was as sweet and helpful as she could manage. Seo glared at her, and she laughed at the expression.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she reassured him, her voice returning to its naturally lower tones. ¡°You¡¯re far from the first with a story like that, and you won¡¯t be the last. They all end up in Lowrun eventually.¡± Allana couldn¡¯t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

    ¡°What about you?¡± Seo asked. ¡°I mean, clearly you¡¯ve been here awhile, right?¡±

    ¡°My whole life.¡± Allana sighed. ¡°Well, all of it that I can remember, at least. My parents made the same move you did.¡±

    ¡°I assume it didn¡¯t work out for them either?¡±

    ¡°It did not.¡±

    Seo cleared his throat awkwardly, like he didn¡¯t know how to reply.

    Allana took another sip of her drink, taking comfort in the familiar burn of it, and ignored the urging of her gift of poison to purge the alcohol¡¯s influence. A little poison was what it took to get through the days, sometimes.

    Finally, she threw the boy a lifeline. ¡°So back there, with those two idiots. Was that battle magic you used on them? Invoking or whatever?¡±

    ¡°Evocation,¡± Seo corrected her smoothly, looking relieved at the change of topic. ¡°Uhm, yeah, it was. I took the Mage¡¯s exam a few weeks back.¡± He turned to look at the still clear spot on the floor where he had left both thugs sprawled. ¡°That was my first time really trying it out on someone.¡±

    Allana blinked in surprise. ¡°Seriously? Your first time using a new gift, and you took down two Apprentices? Just like that?¡±

    Seo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ¡°¡®Took down¡¯ is a strong phrase. I embarrassed them, that was all.¡±

    Allana snorted in amusement. ¡°Maybe so, but it was quite something. And humility doesn¡¯t suit you nearly as well as arrogance.¡± She didn¡¯t know what made her add a wink at the end of the sentence, but it noticeably brightened Seo¡¯s demeanor.

    ¡°I guess it was, wasn¡¯t it?¡± he asked thoughtfully. ¡°I really am pretty great!¡±

    Allana huffed a laugh and took another drink. ¡°I¡¯ve seen a couple battle mages use the evoker gift, though. It never looked like that. Was that an augment or something?¡±

    Seo probably hoped Allana wouldn¡¯t notice the way he used a sip of his drink to buy time before he answered his question. If he kept that up, she¡¯d end up having to drag him home.

    ¡°Uhm¡­ Kind of. My old man wanted me to go into the family business, right? So I studied up and took the Professional¡¯s exam. I got the gift of mathematics.

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    ¡°Math,¡± Allana repeated flatly. The Professional, like the Mage, gave its gift to any who showed their mastery of certain topics, but rather than schools of magic, the Professional was focused on more mundane studies. Economics, anatomy, and¡­ ¡°You seriously have a gift of mathematics?

    Seo shrugged sheepishly at her reaction. ¡°Yeah¡­ I mean, evocation is just manipulation of kinetic energy. Force. So a big part of it is just understanding how energy changes properties and strength. It¡¯s a lot of ratios and complicated formulas. So it lets me make my force spells a lot tidier than they¡¯d be for other people, I guess.¡±

    Allana blinked her eyes slowly at the boy. ¡°So your magic is better¡­ because you know math.¡±

    Seo stared at Allana for a long moment before replying with a shaky, ¡°Yes?¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t care what you''re hiding. Keep your other gift to yourself, Rogue knows there¡¯s plenty I won¡¯t tell you. Just¡­ just stop lying, okay? You¡¯re terrible at it.¡±

    Seo¡¯s mouth moved silently, as if trying to argue but lacking the words, and finally, he slumped in his chair. ¡°I thought I was doing fine¡­¡±

    ¡°Ter-ri-ble.¡± Allana repeated, drawing out each syllable.

    ¡°Yeah well¡­ fine. Whatever.¡±

    #

    ¡°What about you?¡± Seo asked her a couple drinks later. He had switched to a weak wine, the already pale white watered down to near transparency, while she was on her third glass of gloam whiskey. Both were significantly more relaxed, and the influence of the alcohol showed as much in Seo¡¯s cheeks as Allana¡¯s slightly fuzzy mind.

    ¡°What about me what?¡± Allana asked, chuckling a little for reasons she wasn¡¯t entirely sure of.

    ¡°Your gifts!¡± Seo clarified. ¡°I showed you mine, now it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    Allana started to respond, then stopped, taking a moment to mull over his phrasing. She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow, trying to gauge if his choice of words was intentional.

    Based on the sudden guilty look on Seo¡¯s face, it was indeed intentional, if likely more bold than the slender wraith would¡¯ve managed without the alcohol.

    After a moment, Allana let the comment slide. ¡°Well, first of all, you lied to me about one of your gifts, remember?¡±

    ¡°I did n-¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, save it. You¡¯re just sooo bad at lying.¡± Allana shook her head and took another sip of her drink. ¡°Fortunately, if you tried hard enough, it wouldn¡¯t be too hard for you to find out my gifts, so I guess I can tell you.¡±

    Tenebres arched one eyebrow. ¡°So¡­ are you like¡­ a big deal or something?¡±

    Allana waved a hand, as if batting away an annoying insect. ¡°I guess so. In certain circles.¡±

    Seo nodded slowly, and Allana fancied she could all but hear the wheels turning in his head. ¡°Those two idiots from before. They were bragging about working directly for someone named Telik. You mentioned him too, during the confrom¡­ contont¡­ fight with them.¡±

    Allana nodded a small confirmation, trying to contain the little flare of sullen heat in her chest at the mention of the crimelord. ¡°He¡¯s the big deal. Porg, Vern, and I, we¡¯re more footnotes.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s¡­ what, your patron or something?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± Allana replied with a sigh. ¡°We were orphans, and he took us in. Trained us. Bought us our gifts. That¡¯s why they¡¯re not all that hard to figure out.¡±

    Allana didn¡¯t want to think about the man who had been as close to a father as she had ever had. Since she had first met Geoffrey, and been told Telik¡¯s eventual plans for her, she had managed to dodge the crimelord and his men¨Cuntil that night, at least. With barely a thought, she found her attributes and gifts flickering before her vision.

    Allana, the Violet Edge

    Level: Apprentice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of Poison]: +3 to coordination and resilience

    [Gift of Stealth]: +3 to coordination and focus

    Attributes:

    Strength: 5

    Resilience: 9 (6 + 3)

    Stamina: 5

    Coordination: 10 (7 + 3)

    Speed: 6

    Will: 7

    Knowledge: 4

    Focus: 8 (5 +3)

    Awareness: 6

    Charm: 5

    Quintessence Pool: 15

    [Gift of Poison]

    Level: Apprentice

    Experience: 57%

    Grow your skill with poisons to advance

    [Toxic Manifestation] - Active, Conjuration - Create a variety of magical poisons, targeting any single attribute. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

    [Poison Immunity] - Passive, Triggered, Healing - Quintessence is consumed automatically to negate poisons affecting you. Cost is relative to potency and volume of the poison. Mundane or tier one potency poisons are negated at no cost.

    [Master of Poison] - Boon - Major boost to coordination and resilience.

    [Gift of Stealth]

    Level: Apprentice

    Experience: N/A

    Absorb an Initiate Stealth ensouled item to advance.

    Abilities:

    [Obscuring Veil] - Active, Illusion - Manifest an illusion that partially masks you from conventional senses. Veil is most effective in darkness or other obscuring conditions. Minor focus cost recurs as long as the veil is active.

    [Sneak Attack] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Can only be used on targets unaware of your location. Lesser stamina cost.

    [Ensouled Item Conjuration] - Active, Conjuration - Conjure the ensouled item bound to this gift. No cost. Current conjurations: iron dagger, brass dagger.

    [Unseen Form] - Boon - Lesser boost to coordination and focus

    Augments:

    [Poisoned Conjuration] - Poison, Stealth - Passive, Conjuration - Ensouled items may be conjured already coated in the poison from toxic manifestation. Poisons conjured this way have their quintessence cost reduced by one stage.

    ¡°My daggers are ensouled items.¡± She flicked a hand in the air, and a barely noticeable effort of will conjured her first dagger, a wide, heavy iron blade, with a cruelly hooked tip. ¡°One for Novice level,¡± she flicked her hand, abjuring the first dagger and conjuring the second, a long, slender blade of glittering brass, ¡°and one for Apprentice.¡±

    Tenebres blinked, befuddled by drink. ¡°Stealth¡­ that can¡¯t be a common one. I don¡¯t even think I¡¯ve ever heard of it.¡±

    ¡°Nope. Telik had to commission them special. Most people prefer the simpler, single attribute gifts for ensouled items, like grace or agility.¡± Instead, the crimelord had gotten her a gift she¡¯d have a hard time ever finding on her own, making her even more dependent on him. She shook the thought away, trying to stay focused on Seo. ¡°The other is my gift of poison. It¡¯s a Primal gift, lets me make and resist poisons. And yes, it¡¯s a rare one too.¡±

    Seo frowned for a long moment, as if puzzling out her words, before he finally asked, ¡°How exactly does someone buy you a Primal gift?¡±

    ¡°By sneaking poison in my food,¡± Allana explained. She tossed back the rest of her drink without thinking about it, letting the liquor smother the angry fire in her chest. ¡°A little bit at a time, over months, making me build up a tolerance until he could give me a big enough dosage to count as a Primal trial.¡±

    ¡°Rogue¡¯s shadow¡­¡± Seo cursed, shaking his head. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something else.¡±

    #

    ¡°So what are you gonna do now?¡± Allana asked Seo. Their steps were wavering a little as they walked down one of the wider open avenues. The two wraiths had drunk enough that they were each boasting their own blushes, Seo¡¯s flushing his tapered ears bright red while Allana¡¯s made her purple cheeks glow indigo.

    ¡°What?¡± the boy asked, even more befuddled by the drink than she was.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re in Lowrun, right?¡± she waved an arm in a broad gesture, taking in the dirty, dark street around them.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I barely finished the exam before some guards came along and kicked me out.¡±

    ¡°So now whatcha gonna do?¡± Allana chuckled at her own slurred words. ¡°Like, to work. And sleep. And eat.¡±

    Seo paused in his steps, looking stricken by the thought. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± His eyes went wide, and he looked around in abrupt, drunken panic. ¡°I don¡¯t know Allana, I don¡¯t know what to do!¡±

    Allana chuckled more, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. ¡°Shhhh, shush shush shush.¡± She reassured him, going so far as to hold a finger over his mouth. Their eyes met, and her lips turned up in a smile.

    ¡°Come on. You can stay at my place for now.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Mhmmm¡­¡± Allana still held his gaze as her smile turned lecherous. ¡°Buuut there¡¯s only one bed.¡±

    Seo returned the look, and Allana almost shivered at the heat that suddenly flickered in his crimson eyes. ¡°Really?¡± The word came out entirely different that time, loaded with suggestion.

    ¡°Mhm. So¡­ you know¡­¡± Allana winked. ¡°I hope you¡¯re okay with the floor.¡±

 Chapter 22 - Cadence

    Cadence slowly circled the edge of the practice ring. Her footsteps left deep imprints in the loose, soft dirt, specially prepared for these training matches. She wore what she thought of as her hiking clothes¨Ccomfortable cotton leggings, a matching tunic, with a leather vest over her chest and hard leather guards on her shins and forearms. Her hair, the same bright blue as the clear sky overhead, was pulled back into a messy bun that complemented the intense look on her face as she and her foe slowly closed the distance, the circle their footprints traced shrinking with each step.

    Brian was dressed much the same. Rather than his signature ensouled spear, he held a long length of wood with a heavy, dull piece of iron on the end. It, like the short weighted rod Cadence was wielding, was a practice weapon, designed to be more difficult to wield than his own weapon while also ensuring it couldn¡¯t permanently hurt Cadence any more than she could hurt him. The bruises were still nasty though.

    ¡°Oh my Elder, just GO!¡± Ryme called from the sidelines, impatient with the long minutes of careful positioning that both Cadence and Brian preferred to open their bouts with.

    Brian¡¯s eyes flicked to the fenceline, where the chief hunter of Felisen was watching with the rest of the village¡¯s fighters. It was the moment Cadence had been waiting for, and her free hand flashed to her vest, grabbing one of the dull knives she used to practice knife throwing. The slender piece of scrap iron flew across the space between them, startling her foe.

    Even taken by surprise, the gift of grace Brian had received from his ensouled weapon ensured that his reflexes were up to the task of deflecting the faux knife. His staff snapped up to bat the projectile away, but Cadence had been planning on that. Over the past few weeks she had noticed that if Brian wasn¡¯t paying attention, his enhanced reflexes would react before his conscious mind did. So Cadence was moving as soon as her dagger was in the air, and when his staff shot up to deflect the harmless knife, she lunged in under his guard, stabbing out with the practice sword in her hand.

    It still wasn¡¯t enough. As her sword closed in, Brian¡¯s entire body swayed with perfect timing, his balance shifting in an instant to pivot him to one side. Rather than prodding him in the gut, as she had planned, her sword stabbed through empty air, throwing her off balance.

    She had just enough time to think damn it before the haft of Brian¡¯s training spear slammed into her back from behind. The older boy must¡¯ve stepped around her lunge after his Perfect Dodge let him avoid the attack, taking advantage of his new position to hit her from behind. Enhanced by another ability from his gift of grace, Mobile Strike, the attack threw Cadence down into the loose dirt of the practice ring¨Cwhich didn¡¯t feel very cushioned to her at the moment.

    Two weeks before, that would¡¯ve been it. She would¡¯ve taken the hit and just stayed down to recover. But the days of training with people nearly who were universally bigger, stronger, and higher level than her, had given Cadence the sort of experience she needed to keep fighting. Instead of giving up, she rolled to her feet and activated Soul Surge.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    [Soul Surge] activated

    Coordination attribute boosted

    She was only just in time¨Cthe moment she got her feet under her, Brian¡¯s spear was dancing at her in a dizzying series of jabs. Only the improved reflexes of the boost let her bat aside most of them, though she still received a couple hard hits to her arms and ribs before she was able to leap backwards.

    Her eyes tracked Brian as she moved, and her mouth cocked in a little grin as she activated the other ability from the gift of the echo. What had once been a disorienting sensation flickered through her as the gift of the echo contorted in her soul, reflecting an aspect of Brian¡¯s own gift of grace. She couldn¡¯t copy his passive boosts¨Cher Soul Surge had to act as a substitute for that¨Cbut she could mirror any of the four active abilities his two gifts granted him. She dismissed the hunter gift out of hand. Its abilities were potent in the field, but useless in a practice fight like this. Her usual choice was the same special attack he had used against only a few moments before.

    [Mobile Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a fast attack with enhanced potency. Can only be moved while running, leaping, or otherwise in rapid motion. Lesser stamina cost.

    Brian, as the closest hunter to her own age, was her most common training partner, and she had experimented with all of his abilities over the past two months. His Perfect Dodge was a powerful defensive tool against the precise attacks they both favored, but it had to be activated with equally precise timing. His Mobile Strike, on the other hand, allowed him to deal additional damage with fast attacks while moving. Often, their fights turned into a glorified game of tag, both darting about and trying to land a decisive hit against the other. Cadence lost more often than not in those situations, since she couldn¡¯t switch between the two abilities the way he could.

    Frustrated, her eyes slid past Brian for a moment to the watching hunters, and locked onto her mother¨Cthen onto the big man standing next to her, Denning. Her lips curled into a smile as she made a plan, and a moment later, she darted forward again. Brian did the same, practice spear ready, clearly expecting them to transition to the usual rhythm of hit and run tactics. But when his spear flashed out, Cadence willingly took the stinging blow, allowing her to position herself properly, both hands at the base of the weighted rod she was using like a sword. As she swung it, it seemed to get heavier in her grip, and only the momentum of her speed-boosted charge was enough to keep the attack moving.

    [Gift Reflection] - Active, Soul - Copy one gift ability from a nearby target. Gift abilities operate at Novice level regardless of the target¡¯s level. Abilities from certain gifts cannot be copied. This ability has a one hour cool down, but the copied ability is retained until it is used again.

    [Gift Reflection] activated

    [Gift of the Brawler] reflected

    [Heavy Strike] - Active, Attack - Wielded weapon briefly but greatly increases in weight, making the next attack clumsy but extremely powerful. Moderate stamina cost.

    The gift of the echo didn¡¯t provide any outward sign when it was used, so Brian only realized at the last moment that she hadn¡¯t used one of his gifts, instead copying an ability from Denning. Even as he jabbed her in the stomach, her own strike slammed into Brian¡¯s midriff, sending the other hunter flying across the ring. He landed in a sprawl in the loose dirt, groaning, while the watching hunters cheered in appreciation.

    [Gift of the Echo] experienced gained

    Experience: 13%

    ¡°Was that my gift?¡± Denning asked through an amused chuckle.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Cadence confirmed with a proud nod, walking over to join the hunters. While she did, she cast a look in Brian¡¯s direction. The boy was still laying on the ground, trying to recover. ¡°Oh come on!¡± she teased him. ¡°I didn¡¯t hit you that hard, get up!¡±

    ¡°That hurt!¡± he complained from the ground.

    ¡°That¡¯s the point,¡± Ryme cut in brusquely. ¡°Now get up, unless you want to take Markey¡¯s turn with Denning today.¡±

    Brian groaned louder¨Cbut reluctantly rolled to his feet to clear the ring. Since Storyteller began training Felisen¡¯s hunters, he and Ryme had set a firm practice schedule, expecting every hunter to fight at least once any day they weren¡¯t actively patrolling. Denning had proven his place as Ryme¡¯s second in those bouts, and even the chief hunter herself only managed to seize a victory half the time from the brawny man. He insisted that this was only because Ryme¡¯s skillset, even with the addition of her new gift of the archer, was too aligned to killing to perform well in practice. However, that didn¡¯t stop him from consistently thrashing every other hunter in the village.

    ¡°C¡¯mon then, boy.¡± Denning easily vaulted the fenceline, his strength boost more than enough to support even his large frame.

    Markey sighed, resigned, and moved to join him, but Ryme smoothly interrupted the two men. ¡°Actually Denning, I think it¡¯s time we started pushing you a little more. Smith, go ahead and join Markey.¡±

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    The ragged hunters both looked up in surprise, before sharing a predatory smile that evoked the image of the wolf reflected in their shared gifts. Smith joined Markey in jumping the fence, and the two of them faced off against the big hunter.

    Rather than watching the show to come, Cadence¡¯s eyes drifted over to Brian. The swarthy young man had staggered over to a low fieldstone and sat down, still clutching his stomach. She frowned in concern, and started to shift towards him before Storyteller¡¯s hand landed on her shoulder.

    ¡°That was good,¡± he told her. ¡°Not many people will get used to the gift of the echo, but when they do, they¡¯ll often expect you to reflect their own abilities¨Cones which they know inside and out. Surprising him with such a different attack was a smart move.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Cadence said. She chewed her bottom lip, still sneaking glances back at Brian.

    Storyteller finally took notice of her stare, and asked, ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I just¡­ I¡¯m worried I hurt him, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± Ryme interjected with a small, amused huff of breath. ¡°I think you hurt his pride more than anything else.¡±

    Storyteller snorted out a breath of agreement, and Cadence reluctantly nodded in acceptance.

    ¡°Do you mind if I ask you something, Cadence?¡± Storyteller said, his voice quiet enough that only Cadence and Ryme could hear him.

    Cadence peered up at him in confusion, but nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°I get the sense you and him have a history.¡±

    Cadence blushed, but slowly nodded. ¡°Uhm¡­ yes. Yes we do.¡±

    Storyteller just arched an eyebrow, clearly expecting more.

    Cadence sighed in exasperation, and explained, ¡°I had a crush on him for a long time. I was young and¡­ and he was cute, okay?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still young.¡± Ryme commented with an eye roll, her eyes still fixed on the fighting hunters in the ring.

    Storyteller laughed dryly. ¡°She¡¯s right. And I¡¯m pretty sure a crush doesn¡¯t count as history.¡±

    ¡°We¡­ We walked around together for a few months.¡± Cadence admitted, flushing even darker.

    ¡°And then?¡±

    Cadence fidgeted awkwardly before her mother saved her. ¡°It turned out Brian didn¡¯t like that his girlfriend was sometimes a boy.¡±

    Storyteller arched an eyebrow, looking from mother to daughter, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel I¡¯m missing something.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes when caravans come through,¡± Cadence finally explained, ¡°I like to dress up like a boy. They don¡¯t know everyone in the village and¡­ I don¡¯t know, they treat me differently. It¡¯s fun to be someone else sometimes. It¡¯s¡­¡± She trailed off thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Brian saw ¡®Caden¡¯ one night and responded poorly.¡± Ryme finished the story for Cadence, resting a supportive hand on her daughter¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Which is his loss.¡±

    Cadence smiled up at her mother, and there was no hint of blush left in her cheeks. While her relationship history embarrassed her, Cadence had no problems with her gender, or its nebulous nature.

    Finally, Storyteller shrugged. ¡°I happen to agree. And I think the gift of the echo really may have been the perfect gift for you. It happens to suit those of us who like to wear other faces sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Other faces¡­ I like that.¡± Cadence said. A gentle flower of a smile slowly bloomed across her lips at the thought that her gift might match her identity so well one day. She didn¡¯t even feel the need to press Storyteller for details.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± In a rare display of hesitation, Storyteller paused, then carefully asked, ¡°So is it still correct to think of you as a girl? Or¡­¡±

    ¡°For today.¡± Cadence told him. ¡°Tomorrow¡­ I guess we¡¯ll see.¡±

    #

    To Cadence¡¯s surprise, Markey and Smith together proved Denning¡¯s equal, and scored their first win against the big man. Denning preferred an aggressive fighting style, taking advantage of the strength and ferocity of his brawler gift with a pair of matching hatchets. Smith and Markey fought much more nimbly, each wielding a longsword in one hand and the dangerous claws of their wolf gift in the other.

    Despite their Apprentice level, Cadence had never been particularly impressed with the matched pair of ragged hunters when she fought against either one of them. They weren¡¯t as fast or as mobile as Brian, and they lacked the sheer power of Ryme and Denning. But fighting together, their strengths were more obvious. The tricky feints and rapid dodges, which were easy enough for even Cadence to brute force through in a fair fight, became far more dangerous when there were two of them, and their natural weapons proved as dangerous as their swords. Denning simply couldn¡¯t keep up, being blindsided whenever he pinned one of the duo down while they coordinated their attacks with the ruthless efficiency of the animal their shared gifts represented.

    ¡°Why do you think your mother put Denning in a fight like that?¡± Storyteller asked Cadence afterwards, while they walked back towards the village itself. The practice ring was just outside of Felisen, as it saw equal use as a corral for draft animals when the farmers outside the village would come to town, or when caravans passed through. There was even a small barn attached to it.

    Cadence didn¡¯t answer immediately, thinking it over. She knew the tone Storyteller was taking, and knew that if she looked up now he¡¯d have the bright yellow eyes she thought of as his ¡®smart eyes¡¯. He was looking to teach her a lesson.

    Finally, she replied, ¡°Denning has been winning too much lately. She wanted to make sure he didn¡¯t get prideful.¡±

    Storyteller made an interested hum. ¡°Not a bad idea, but I think I disagree. I would say she wanted to put him in an unfair situation because that¡¯s what he¡¯s more likely to end up facing on the job.¡±

    Cadence didn¡¯t reply, instead frowning thoughtfully. After a moment, Storyteller continued, ¡°If he came across any bone wolves, or frostfangs, or some other pack predator, they¡¯d fight just the way those two did. Cruel, uncaring efficiency, taking every advantage their numbers offer them. Duels are good practice, but in the end¡­¡±

    ¡°Life isn¡¯t fair.¡± Cadence nodded. Her own performance in the duels had been middling at best since she started participating in them. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that a lot lately.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Storyteller arched an eyebrow.

    Cadence¡¯s frown became less thoughtful and more irritated. ¡°I get why mom wants me to practice like this¡­ but I don¡¯t think this is how I¡¯d fight in the real world. I just don¡¯t have the abilities for it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Storyteller confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s more apparent because of your level, but the gift of the echo is never going to make you the equal of someone who has trained for years with their own gifts. The fact that your other gift is so utility focused only compounds the problem.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Soul Surge helps, but it doesn¡¯t even out everything.¡± Cadence pursed her lips thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s why I used Denning¡¯s gift today instead. I can¡¯t just play the same game as my opponent, or I¡¯ll lose.¡±

    ¡°So how would you fight someone like Brian in real life?¡± Storyteller asked, sounding genuinely interested.

    Cadence shrugged. She had been thinking about that for weeks now. ¡°I¡¯d take that Mobile Strike ability of his, give myself a speed boost, and hit him before he knew the fight was even happening. He doesn¡¯t have any resilience boost, he¡¯d fold fast.¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s eyebrows went up in surprise, and Cadence felt a surge of glee just as powerful as any boost her ability could provide. Often, it seemed like Storyteller was this ominous figure who had all the answers but dodged most questions. After a couple weeks with him, she understood why Ryme got so frustrated with him so often. It was always fun to be able to surprise someone who seemed to know it all.

    Storyteller started to respond, but stopped abruptly. His eyes focused forward, and in an instant, they were the icy blue of his most intense personality. Cadence still didn¡¯t get it¨Che had hinted, the few times she had asked about it, that it was a trait of his own echo gift, but refused to elaborate any further.

    Cadence followed his gaze up ahead of their little party. Several concerned people had rushed up to Ryme as they approached town, and were speaking in hushed tones to the chief hunter. She studied their body language. Denning was making small patting motions in the air with his hands, clearly trying to soothe the villagers, while Ryme listened with a detached frown. Markey and Smith traded a look, and she doubted either of them noticed the casual way their hands already rested on their swords. Hunters were always armed, even if they didn¡¯t use their weapons in the practice fights.

    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong.¡± She observed. She watched Brian shoot an alarmed look from the villagers back to Cadence.

    ¡°Agreed. Let¡¯s go see what.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Cadence had been asking ¡°why¡± basically since Storyteller first announced that he was going to stay in Felisen, and now, she felt like she was finally going to get some answers. She hadn¡¯t seen this version of Storyteller since his fight with the ogre.

    ¡°Yes. Stay close, and have your bow ready. It¡¯s going to be a fight.¡±

 Chapter 23 - Cadence

    Cadence looked from the grim faces around her to the still, silent farm stretched out ahead of them. It was one of the small family-owned properties that lined the road leading out of Felisen, one the half dozen sprawling farms responsible for much of the food that the villagers both ate and traded. The villagers Ryme had spoken to earlier had brought rumors of a thick green fog that had covered the farm throughout the morning hours of the day, and she had brought all of the available hunters with her to investigate, as well as Storyteller. The mysterious adventurer had insisted Cadence join them as well, and Ryme was too anxious to contest the request.

    The property seemed normal enough now, though. There was no sign of the mysterious fog Ryme had been told about. If anything, to Cadence, the most unsettling thing about the farm was the stillness. On a bright springtime afternoon like this, it should¡¯ve been bustling with activity.

    Even as the group of hunters watched from the shaded woodline at the edge of the farm, a strange noise split the air, somewhere between a screech and a cackle. Cadence had never heard anything like it.

    ¡°Some kind of monster?¡± Her voice was little more than a whisper when she spoke.

    ¡°Not like any I¡¯ve heard,¡± Brian said. The youngest of Felisen¡¯s hunters had conjured his ensouled spear, and was turning the shaft absently in his hands. Cadence didn¡¯t bother to point out that after less than a year as a hunter, he was far from an expert.

    ¡°Quiet, both of you,¡± Ryme hissed. ¡°Storyteller. What can you tell me?¡±

    ¡°I suspect it was a miasma,¡± he told her quietly. ¡°But we¡¯ll need to draw them out to be sure.¡±

    ¡°Who is ¡®them?¡¯¡± Denning growled. The powerfully built man was several inches shorter than Storyteller¡¯s own height, though he was significantly broader than the relatively skinny man.

    ¡°Goblins,¡± Storyteller explained. ¡°Likely only smaller ones, and I suspect only a few will come investigating. They¡¯re not known for their initiative.¡± He looked at Ryme, then jerked his head toward Brian and Cadence. ¡°They¡¯re minor monsters. It¡¯ll be good training for these two.¡±

    Ryme frowned, but nodded swiftly. ¡°Very well. Brian, Cadence, get ready. Markey, Smith, I want you ready to provide backup if they need it. Denning, keep a watch in case any try to flank us.¡±

    Cadence had never seen her mother operating the field before. The firm but loving woman she had grown up with had temporarily been replaced by a hard-eyed huntress, giving decisive orders with the air of someone who expected no questions or complaints. Cadence quickly pulled out her shortbow and strung it with smooth motions. Ryme had Cadence spend an hour every night practicing stripping and stringing her bow, building both the muscle memory and the callouses to do so quickly and efficiently.

    Cadence set an arrow¨Cone of the ones she had fletched herself¨Cto the string, and held another flat against the bow itself. Then she focused on her mother briefly, reaching for one of the gifts Ryme had gotten from the Archer gift Storyteller had helped her receive.

    [Gift of the Archer] reflected

    [Instant Volley] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack that causes a launched arrow to duplicate twice in midair. Lesser stamina cost.

    ¡°Ready,¡± she declared quietly, blowing out a slow breath and trying to calm the nerves that would make her hands shake and spoil her first attack.

    Next to her, Brian completed a couple quick stretches, and set himself in a runner¡¯s stance in preparation to use his Mobile Strike to start the fight.

    ¡°Go.¡± Ryme¡¯s voice was a whip crack.

    Storyteller¡¯s icy blue eyes sparkled and he pointed to the empty field before them. Cadence felt the power surge through him, a sensation like her hair standing on end during a storm, then flick across the field before manifesting into a crash of lightning and thunder, a brilliant flash followed by a booming crack.

    There was a moment of silence, then more of those weird, high-pitched cackles began to echo across the property, quickly getting louder.

    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± Storyteller advised them. ¡°Feels like¡­ two. No, three of them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the forwardmost,¡± Brian said. It was a basic hunter tactic to call their targets, avoiding confusion and making their attacks as efficient as possible.

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle the rear,¡± Cadence responded. That was a traditional archery technique her mother had taught her, aiming for the enemy farthest back so that the ones in front didn¡¯t know their numbers were being reduced. ¡°Meet in the middle.¡±

    The wait seemed to stretch interminably. Cadence was sure it was less than a minute, but it felt closer to an hour as she stood, arrow nocked, ready to fire. Finally, a few shapes rounded the side of the farm house, ambling across the field in a weird, clumsy-looking run. Cadence was sure that not too long ago, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to see the goblins from so far away, but the awareness boon from her gift of the wanderer let her pick out the details of the monsters.

    She almost wished she couldn¡¯t. They were terrible, unnatural beings, the product of magic¨Cthe miasma Storyteller had mentioned, Cadence guessed¨Cwarping the animals that had once lived on the farm. The front two looked like they had once been dogs, now warped to stand on two legs, their muscles and bones looking like they had been clumsily resculpted to force them to stand upright, resulting in the odd, unbalanced lope they now used to cross the field. They were even shorter than Cadence, the transformation clearly not adding any mass to their bodies, and their arms were too long, boasting rotten yellow claws that looked dangerous enough despite their size.

    Bringing up the rear was what must¡¯ve been a goat previously. It was similarly mutated, though it was stouter, and still covered with the same shaggy fur. Its arms looked almost underdeveloped compared to the powerful hindlegs that propelled it forward in an odd rolling stride. The obvious threat was clearly its two curling horns, which were far thicker and heavier than any simple goat¡¯s should be, forcing its head to stay bowed. Once it had a straight runway, Cadence assumed it would set off in a charge, using those horns to bludgeon its enemies¨Cin this case, Brian¨Cto a gruesome end.

    As planned, Brian had immediately sprung forward while Cadence looked over the enemies. The enhancement from his gift of grace propelled him across the clear lawn between the hunters¡¯ hiding spot and the approaching abominations. His conjured spear flicked out as he did, and his dash ended in a perfectly poised lunge, sending the full force of his momentum and the full weight of his body forward, concentrated into the point of his spear. His Mobile Strike ability only further enhanced the attack, and whatever magic had turned the dog he struck into a barely humanoid monster was not sufficient to dull the force of the attack.

    The tip of Brian¡¯s spear plunged in under the monster¡¯s ribs at a slight angle, and emerged in the area between its shoulder blades amidst a gout of blood. The slavering dog-goblin gave a breathy whining noise that hurt Cadence¡¯s ears, but though it briefly struggled, it only sank a few more inches along the spear¡¯s haft before it sagged in place, dead.

    ¡°Cadence!¡± Ryme hissed, and she blinked in surprise. For all of her training, this was still Cadence¡¯s first true fight, and the sudden, startling violence of it had stunned her for a moment. The same attack Cadence had mentally compared to playing tag had just instantly and gruesomely killed one of the warped monsters¨Cbut there were still two more enemies to go.

    This was no game. If she failed, people would die. She could die.

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    Brian had braced his foot against the dead dog-goblin, trying to kick it off his spear so that he could face the second canine monster, but that still left the larger and more dangerous looking goat-goblin, who was bracing itself to charge. If it could gain any momentum, it could likely kill Brian by itself, and even if it failed to do so, the interruption would no doubt give the dog-goblin the chance to savage him. Cadence¡¯s brief affair with Brian had ended in disappointment for both of them¨Cbut the image of him dead at the hand of these two unnatural creatures sent a silvery bolt of alarm through Cadence¡¯s spine and finally galvanized her into action.

    All of the training she had undertaken since she received her gift finally kicked in. Cadence raised her bow, pulled the string taut, and hesitated a bare moment to sight on the monster. She exhaled, and with the breath went her arrow. Enhanced by the power of the ability she had copied from her mother, the arrow multiplied in mid air, and three arrows shot towards the goat-goblin. One sailed wide, another shattered when it hit the monster¡¯s curling horns, but the third landed cleanly, sinking a couple inches past its tip into the thick fur of its upper arm.

    The monster reared back, seeming more surprised than pained, and looked around in a frenzy, making discomforting bleating noises. That only made it easier when Cadence sent her second arrow flying, again enhanced by Instant Volley. This time only one arrow was ineffective, flying past on one side, while the other two stuck in the monster¡¯s gut. The high-pitched bray it made was clearly pained, but the monster had just as clearly seen where the arrows came from. It lowered its head, and began barreling towards the trees where Cadence and the others were hidden, as swift as she had feared.

    Cadence reached for a third arrow, but fumbled it, cursing to herself as it fell to the ground.

    Ryme¡¯s curse was louder. ¡°Smith! Take it!¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Cadence said, frustrated. Not waiting for a response, she threw down her bow and hopped out of the bushes, directly in the path of the charging goat-goblin. She spread her legs and crouched slightly, setting her weight between them. She thought of when she had watched her mother fight Denning. Ryme was stronger than the brawler, but also significantly smaller. She had claimed that managing her center of gravity was key in fights like that, as her strength didn¡¯t make the small woman any larger or heavier. Cadence blew out a breath as she braced herself, mimicking her mother¡¯s stance from that fight and spreading her arms like a wrestler. Then, the moment before the goat-goblin struck her, she used her Soul Surge.

    [Soul Surge] activated

    Strength attribute boosted

    Each of her hands caught one of the stout monster¡¯s horns¨Cand she stopped its charge flat. Instantly, the monster¡¯s forward momentum stopped, her own feet sank into the soft soil underneath her feet, and a burning snap turned her right arm into a firestorm of pain. Cadence screamed¨Cbut her Soul Surge was still enhancing her, giving her strength on par with a large man. It was more than sufficient to throw the surprised, now off-balance goblin back a step, even if her body wasn¡¯t strong enough to ignore the damage from the attack. That gave her enough room for her good arm to reach for the hatchet riding at her side and, in a motion she had practiced half a thousand times in the past weeks, she drew the blade in a wicked slash that cut the goat-goblin¡¯s furry throat wide open in a fountain of gore.

    Cadence stood up straight, wobbling slightly for a moment, and looked down at the monster. The first thing she had ever killed in combat. Then the searing pain of her arm and the disgust at the shower of blood that soaked her upper body hit her. The metallic tang of the warped animal¡¯s blood lit up her nose and tongue, and she had to blink the sticky viscera out of her eyes. Cadence fell forward on hands and knees to vomit, and the moment her weight settled on her right arm, the pain seemed to shoot through her entire body. Pain was the last thing she felt before she blacked out.

    #

    Cadence woke up, sputtering, to the shock of a cold splash of water slapping her in the face.

    The girl yelped and sat up straight, flailing her arms about until she managed to wipe her eyes clear. Ryme stood over her with an arched eyebrow, a tiny smirk, and a dripping, overturned bucket. ¡°Nap time¡¯s over, Cadie.¡±

    Cadence glared up at her mom, and wiped off her face again as more water dripped out of her blue hair. It was only when she examined her pink-stained fingers that she remembered the fight, and how she had passed out. And the fact that the very arm she was using to wipe off her face should have been screaming in pain.

    ¡°What happened? How long was I out?¡± she asked, climbing to her feet. As she did, she took a catalog of her body, and realized that not only was she no longer hurt, she didn¡¯t even feel drained by the pair of special attacks and the Soul Surge she had used. ¡°Did Storyteller use one of those weird potions on me again?¡±

    ¡°Next time I can just leave you to fix your broken arm on your own!¡± the lanky man called from several feet away, where he was surveying the visible farm land.

    ¡°It was only a few minutes,¡± Ryme explained wryly. Her smile dropped away as she continued, ¡°That was a bad decision, Cadie. Strength without resilience isn¡¯t much good for catching an attack like that.¡±

    Cadence frowned to herself. ¡°I know, I just¡­¡± she sighed and admitted, ¡°I didn¡¯t think about it. It just made sense that I could stop it.¡±

    ¡°Everything has a cost, Cadence. Most gift abilities have some sort of balancing element to them. Your Soul Surge might be strong, but it still only affects one attribute. It doesn¡¯t give you a comprehensive boost.¡±

    ¡°For now¡­¡± Cadence muttered to herself, remembering the way Storyteller had fought the ogre. He hadn¡¯t been limited to just one boost then, she knew.

    Ryme followed her gaze to Storyteller, and she shook her head. ¡°Same gift or not, you can¡¯t compare yourself to him, Cadie,¡± she admonished her daughter. ¡°It¡¯ll be years, decades even, before you hit Expert, and I¡¯m fairly certain he¡¯s beyond even that level.¡±

    Cadence shook her head in frustration. She felt her face twisting into a pout, and tried to will the expression away. Judging by her mother¡¯s face, she had only moderate success. Trying to change the subject, Cadence tilted her chin towards where Brian, Smith, and Markey were examining the defeated dog-goblins. ¡°Did he manage to take them down by himself?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Barely,¡± Ryme told her with an eye roll. ¡°He relies on his spear too much, and he took a nasty cut when the monster got inside his guard. Ellie¡¯s potions proved enough for him, at least.¡±

    Cadence didn¡¯t manage to hide her grimace at the mention of the girl. Ellie was Brian¡¯s age, and was everything Cadence wasn¡¯t. She was tall, curvy, calm, polite. Storyteller had helped her gain the gift of alchemy to go with the gift of the herbalist she had for a couple years, and Ellie was now building a reputation as a healer, something the town had desperately needed.

    Cadence was also fairly sure that she had started seeing Brian since they had broken things off.

    Ryme noticed her daughter¡¯s reaction, but decided against commenting on it. Instead, she walked forward, giving the order for everyone to gather.

    ¡°Right. What else do we have to deal with then?¡± she asked the collected group.

    ¡°There¡¯s movement in the fields,¡± Denning told her. ¡°Couldn¡¯t tell what but I¡¯d bet my hat some kind of bramble-spawn manifested out there.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not wearing a hat,¡± Cadence pointed out, earning a grin from the older hunter.

    ¡°He¡¯s probably right,¡± Storyteller acknowledged. ¡°I¡¯m sensing more goblins out past the house, and there¡¯s a potential for warbeasts too.¡±

    Ryme cursed. ¡°What about the Beltleys?¡± she asked. The Beltleys were the family who owned the farm and, along with a few hired laborers, worked the fields and cared for the animals.

    ¡°No sign of them,¡± Smith said, Markey nodding in time with his words

    ¡°I have some ideas¡­¡± Storyteller said absently. ¡°But I¡¯ll need time to investigate.¡±

    Ryme nodded. ¡°Right. Can we expect any of the farm animals caught by this miasma would be affected like those¡­ things?¡±

    ¡°It depends,¡± Storyteller said. ¡°The smaller ones, basically anything that masses less than the average person, will get turned into a goblin like those. Without reinforcement, they¡¯re textbook minor monsters, dangerous in their own way but stupid and relatively frail. The bigger ones will be turned into warbeasts¨Ceven less intelligent, but significantly more deadly, lesser rank at least.¡±

    ¡°Denning.¡± Ryme asked. ¡°Do you know what animals they kept in the barnyard?¡±

    The big man most often led the patrols through the farms, and he nodded thoughtfully to the question. ¡°A few pigs. A hen house with a rooster. Couple cows, two old plow donkeys.¡± He paused, then added, with a meaningful look to the corpses of the first three goblins, ¡°Two dogs and a goat.¡±

    ¡°So as many as a dozen or so remaining enemies, maybe more.¡±

    Storyteller raised a hand to get Ryme¡¯s attention. ¡°Would you mind a suggestion, Mistress Ryme?¡± Cadence¡¯s mother shook her head, and he continued, ¡°I¡¯m sensing two clusters of fairly weak goblins, likely the pigs and the chickens Denning described. Of the four remaining monsters, I can only detect two, in the same direction.¡±

    ¡°Those¡¯d be the cows,¡± Denning suggested. ¡°They¡¯re kept not far from the sty and the hen house.¡±

    Storyteller nodded. ¡°So likely, the donkeys are in the fields, along with an unknown number of bramble-spawn transformed from the crops. I¡¯d suggest that Cadence and Brian may benefit from fighting more of the weaker goblins, particularly if you are observing, Mistress Ryme. Then Denning can lead the others in the fields.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡± Ryme asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be trying to find the family that owns this place.¡±

    Ryme narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, and asked, ¡°You have soul sense, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°Very well. These minor goblins, you think they¡¯d be about as strong as those Brian and Cadence already defeated?¡±

    ¡°The pigs would be. The chickens would likely be even weaker, but more numerous. You¡¯d be unlikely to find better live training for your young people.¡±

    Ryme considered for only a moment before giving her approval. ¡°Very well. Cadie, Brian, you¡¯re with me. Denning, Smith, Markey, be careful. Storyteller¡­ I suspect there¡¯s nothing I can tell you you don¡¯t already know. But good luck, in any case.¡±

 Chapter 24 - Cadence

    Cadence was quite sure she had never felt as tired as she did at that moment, staggering down the path leading back to the central farmhouse on the Beltely¡¯s property. In retrospect, the fight with the dog and goat-goblins, which had left Cadence unconscious on the ground, had been little more than a warm up. At Storyteller¡¯s suggestion and Ryme¡¯s insistence, she had indeed tested her skills against the warped minions created by the magical miasma that had abruptly assaulted the Beltley¡¯s farmlands.

    The pigs had been simple enough. There were four of them, but they were little more challenging than the dog-goblins had been. The squat and grotesque beings had tried to rely on brute force to overwhelm Cadence and Brian, but the pair were more than skilled enough to handle them. Cadence had borrowed Brian¡¯s special attack from his gift of grace again, and the two had literally run circles around the four gross pink monsters. Cadence hadn¡¯t even needed to use her Soul Surge to beat them.

    Though, she had reflected afterwards, if the monsters had been armed with even simple tools or weapons, that likely wouldn¡¯t have been the case. She didn¡¯t understand it¨Ca barn stood only a short distance from the muddy little pen the pig goblins had been contained in, but they seemed to lack the intelligence to leave the unlocked sty. Or, she realized with a start, they simply didn¡¯t have the initiative to arm themselves. The dogs and goat must¡¯ve been free roaming prior to their transformation. Perhaps that had been why only they had come to attack after Storyteller drew their attention.

    The chicken coop proved to be significantly more problematic. The transformation from small bird to rangy goblin had left the resulting monsters undersized and skinny, misshapen in an entirely different way from the bloated pig-goblins. While the eight white-feathered chickens wouldn¡¯t have been too bad by themselves, the black plumed goblin that must¡¯ve once been a rooster had nearly gotten both of them killed.

    The conversion to goblin had given the rooster a magical ability, something incredibly rare in minor monsters. The ability was simple, an inversion of a rooster¡¯s crow that worked to put those who heard it to sleep, rather than waking them up. Unfortunately, simple was more than enough to nearly kill the two youths, as the remainder of the chicken-goblins had come flooding out of the coop even as Brian had collapsed under the soporific magic.

    Cadence had only resisted the effect by Surging her will, giving herself the presence of mind necessary to fight off the invasive effect. Of course, that had left her unable to use her Soul Surge on more combat-focused abilities. In the end, she had taken advantage of the same reluctance she had noted in the pig-goblins. Though she took quite a few cuts and scrapes in the process, she dragged Brian out of the pen and whittled down the chicken-goblins from the safety of the fenceline.

    Brian had woken up shortly after the rooster-goblin had fallen, and had helped Cadence clear out the remaining chickens. That was the around same time Cadence¡¯s Surge had finally buckled, leaving her to pay its cost, on top of those she had incurred using Ryme¡¯s powers against the goblins.

    And so now she limped towards the farmhouse after her mother, stubbornly refusing Brian¡¯s help and trying her hardest to ignore both the throbbing in her head and the way every one of her muscles felt ready to give out.

    It¡¯s only because of all the training that I can even stay conscious right now. Cadence thought to herself as she trudged onward. The first time I tried to use Soul Surge, the cost alone knocked me out.

    The bright side of her new ability to perceive her own attributes was that she had concrete evidence of how far the past weeks had taken her, hard numbers that somehow felt more real than the taut energy of her muscles or the sharp clarity of her mind.

    Cadence of Felisen

    Level: Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Wanderer]: +3 to stamina and awareness

    [Gift of the Echo]: +1 to all attributes, stacks with all other boons

    Attributes:

    Strength: 6 (5 + 1)

    Resilience: 6 (5 + 1)

    Stamina: 10 (6 + 3 + 1)

    Coordination: 7 (6 + 1)

    Speed: 6 (5 + 1)

    Will: 6 (5 + 1)

    Knowledge: 5 (4 + 1)

    Focus: 5 (4 + 1)

    Awareness: 10 (6 + 3 + 1)

    Charm: 6 (5 + 1)

    Her training and lessons with Storyteller had rapidly raised many of her less-used attributes. Combined with the boost the gift of the echo had given her across the board, she felt like a whole different person.

    Unfortunately, her experience was beginning to stagnate. The gift she had copied from Denning was one of the last left among Felisen¡¯s hunters for her to reflect, and her gift of the wanderer had gained barely any experience since she received it!

    A rough scraping noise jarred Cadence out of her exhausted reverie. She looked up to see Storyteller emerging from the farmhouse. Apparently the door dragged on the wood planks of the house¡¯s broad porch, the noise repeating when it slammed shut behind him. His face was serious, his bright blue eyes concerned. His gaze flicked from Brian to Cadence, pausing for the barest instant to give the girl a pleased nod, before returning Ryme. ¡°Mistress Ryme¡­¡± he began, his voice troubled.

    Before he could continue, however, a shout drew the attention of all four of them.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Markey¡¯s voice called in warning.

    Ryme and Storyteller¡¯s heads snapped around, turning towards the field the other three hunters had gone to clear out. Brian and Cadence did the same, admittedly, but much more sluggishly than the advanced battle-gifted.

    A monster was charging towards the farmhouse, the two wolfish hunters chasing after it. But even calling on their gifts, they were unable to match the raw speed of what had clearly once been a draft donkey. Despite the distance of the charging monster, Cadence¡¯s improved awareness let her examine it.

    Unlike the smaller animals, it hadn¡¯t turned into a goblin, but Cadence had a hard time seeing that as a positive, by comparison. The donkey¡¯s mottled gray fur was covered by odd, rigid patches of flesh that looked like something between bone, leather and flat iron plates. They covered its back, its neck, its stomach, and even its eyes, giving it an unnervingly unnatural, almost insectoid appearance.

    Even more alarming were the protrusions along its flanks. It looked like the animal''s ribs had straightened horizontally, bursting out its warped flesh and hardening in the same way as its skin. Rather than a carapace though, they had turned into a line of wicked-looking blades. At the speed it was running, Cadence had no problem figuring out their use, and her mind treated her to a vivid image of the beast running right through the middle of their little group, those horrid blades cutting them in half in the process through the beast¡¯s sheer speed.

    ¡°My mind needs to calm down,¡± she muttered to herself, wearily watching the mutated donkey approach. Any other day, she¡¯d probably be frightened, but exhausted as she was, she just couldn¡¯t muster the energy for such intense feelings. Besides. Ryme and Storyteller were right there.

    Storyteller had already turned to face the monster, and Cadence blinked in muddled surprise to see the lean man toting his long, two-handed sword. Three gems embedded into the length of the weapon glittered in different shades of blue, brightening as they approached the tip, and this close, Cadence could see the fine, spidery runes traced along its blade.

    Where did he get that? Cadence wondered. She was sure he hadn¡¯t been wielding it when they approached the farm¨Cin fact, she hadn¡¯t seen it since the day they met, when he had slain the ogre in the barrens.

    However, before Storyteller could move towards the charging animal, Ryme put a hand on his arm to stop him. He turned towards Cadence¡¯s mother, then gave her a smile and made a little ¡°after you¡± gesture.

    Watching her mother unlimber her greatbow, Cadence managed to muster a smile. She had been waiting for the chance to see her mother in action.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Only a week before, Ryme had finally reached Initiate with her gift of the hunter, after taking down a vicious brambleboar that had menaced some of the lumber workers in the forest.

    ¡°Initiate,¡± Storyteller had explained to Cadence, ¡°is the end of the first stage for a gifted. It''s when attribute boosts truly start to reach superhuman level. But it¡¯s also a plateau, as gifts can¡¯t level up past there by themselves. Instead, the soul itself needs to be reinforced by the acceptance of a third gift, which then also needs to be raised all the way to Initiate as well.¡± He had shaken his head. ¡°It¡¯s a long road to Adept. But it¡¯s worth it.¡±

    Shortly afterwards, Storyteller had helped Ryme complete a trial to show her mastery of the bow. As it had been her preferred weapon for most of her life, she had easily gotten the gift of the archer from the Warrior archetype, the perfect complement to the skillset she had already developed. And it had produced a very interesting augment.

    Ryme very calmly lifted her bow, sighting on the charging monster, which was apparently too stupid to notice that its ¡°prey¡± was ready for it. The thick staves of the greatbow bent slowly, with an audible creak. The weapon was designed specifically for the increased strength Ryme¡¯s gift of the bear lent her, and the slender woman easily drew back her arrow despite the fact that the bow was thicker than her own wrists. Then Cadence felt the pressure beginning to build around her mother.

    It was an odd feeling, like nothing Cadence had ever experienced. It was like a tightness that thrummed through the air itself, as Ryme progressively drew in more and more power, all focused at the tip of her arrow. Cadence still didn¡¯t fully understand what ¡°potency¡± meant, but she knew it was some sort of measure of how powerful an attack was, and she knew that the Sniper¡¯s Shot ability produced by Ryme¡¯s augment allowed her to progressively increase the potency of her attack based on how long she held her aim at the same target.

    The transformed draft animal was fast, but it had a long way to go to reach its target, and Ryme used all of that time to charge up her attack. It was barely a hundred feet away, close enough for Cadence to see the glittering fangs that lined its maw, before Ryme released her arrow. The combination of the potency granted by her sniper¡¯s shot, the power of her greatbow, the skill of a lifetime practicing with the weapon, and the perfect aim of Ryme¡¯s superhuman awareness and coordination attributes produced an attack far beyond what any lesser monster like the mutant donkey could survive.

    Cadence didn¡¯t even see the blur of the arrow moving. She simply heard the deep thrum of it being released, felt the pressure of Ryme¡¯s attack bursting outwards¨Cand then the beast collapsed in a sprawl of splintered bone and broken limbs, its momentum still carrying its corpse forward, digging a trench in the ground that ended at Ryme¡¯s feet.

    Everyone, from Storyteller to Cadence and Brian, to Markey and Smith, who had pulled up short at the display of power, simply stared at the felled monster in stunned silence.

    ¡°That,¡± Storyteller finally acknowledged, ¡°is a good combination of gifts.¡±

    #

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with them?¡± Ryme¡¯s brusque tone couldn''t hide the shock and concern that hid in her voice. It sent a little shiver of fear down Cadence¡¯s spine. The last time she had heard her mother speak in that voice, it was before she went out to slay the frostfur that had killed two hunters.

    ¡°They¡¯re fine,¡± Storyteller promised. ¡°The raw magic of the miasma was a shock to their systems, it must¡¯ve knocked them out.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re alotta things, ¡®Teller, but ¡®fine¡¯ isn¡¯t one of them.¡± Denning rumbled. The big man was pale as he stared at what had once been the Beltley family.

    After the last of the monsters had been defeated, Storyteller had led Ryme and Denning into the root cellar attached to the little farmhouse. As they were the closest things the hunters had to leaders, their presence made sense, while the more junior hunters kept watch for any other monsters outside. Cadence had just sort of inserted herself into the group with a quiet insistence, and none of them had bothered to send her outside with the others.

    But Cadence knew that could change in a moment, if she became an annoyance to the trio of serious adults, so she kept her mouth carefully shut. It was difficult, though, looking at the family.

    Cadence had never been particularly close to the Beltleys. They lived outside Felisen proper, and had no children near her age, so there hadn¡¯t been much reason for her to get to know them. But she was still familiar with them, having met all of them at some point during festivals or market days.

    The elder Beltleys, the husband and wife who had originally purchased the farm property, were a couple decades older than Cadence¡¯s mother, though still younger than Old Man Callahan. As they got up in years, they turned most of the farm¡¯s operations over to their eldest son and his wife, each about ten years older than Cadence. Their second and third son still lived on the farm as well, along with the younger Beltleys couple¡¯s two toddler aged children. They had all inherited a uniform set of features, favoring stockiness and straight, brunette hair. The eldest Beltley man had a strong jaw and a chin that could chisel rock, which his children all shared to some extent.

    Now, Cadence reflected, they did still share a lot of features. But those features had become things like thick, yellowish skin, bristling green hair that reminded Cadence of pine needles, and weird, bark-like growths at their joints and around their ears.

    ¡°I¡¯m not concerned about them being unconscious, Storyteller, I¡¯m concerned that they appear to have turned into Elder-damned monsters!¡± Ryme¡¯s voice rose by the end of her sentence to the point that she all but shouted the last word at him.

    Storyteller grimaced. ¡°Not monsters, Mistress Ryme. The human soul is too strong to allow magic, even magic as thick as a miasma, to truly transform us. The changes are only aesthetic. When they awaken, you¡¯ll find them to be the same people.¡±

    Ryme¡¯s eyes narrowed, and her lips moved silently, processing the man¡¯s words. In the tense silence, Denning interjected, ¡°Like wraiths?¡±

    ¡°Not like wraiths, sir. They are wraiths.¡±

    ¡°That makes no sense!¡± Ryme snarled. ¡°I knew the Beltleys. They didn¡¯t have any wraith blood in them, and even if they did, you don¡¯t just become a wraith. You¡¯re born one.¡±

    Storyteller sighed and shook his head. ¡°Not true, Mistress Ryme. You are simply familiar with wraiths as the descendants of the original tribes, who had the poor luck to dwell in the Wastes before the Realm was founded and the bastion cities erected. They were warped by the magic leaking in through the Wastes¨Cover years, their bodies drank it in, and they were changed, so thoroughly that their descendants still carry the marks of those changes.¡±

    Storyteller waved at the unconscious forms of the inhuman looking Beltley family. ¡°They were exposed to otherworldly magic just as potent as that which transformed the original wraiths. It¡¯s rare these days, but not unheard of.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re still¡­ them?¡± Cadence couldn¡¯t help but ask. She had only ever heard of wraiths. They were more common in some of the cities, she had heard, but she had never seen one before.

    ¡°Yes. Perhaps with some spotty memories and a bit of trauma, but still them.¡±

    Ryme looked from the family to Storyteller and back. Slowly, her face transformed from alarm to thoughtfulness.

    ¡°Folks are gonna have a rough time of it, though,¡± Denning rumbled.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Storyteller agreed. ¡°I suspect you¡¯ve had little interaction with wraiths out here?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be correct,¡± Ryme said quietly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen ¡®em in the city before,¡± Denning added. ¡°Even in Correntry, they stood out quite a bit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unavoidable, unfortunately. Wraith traits seem to be indelible, but they¡¯ve always been a small population,¡± Storyteller shook his head. ¡°Out here, it¡¯s going to be even harder for them.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Ryme said simply. ¡°It won¡¯t.¡± She stated the words without any particular emphasis, as simply as if speaking about the weather, but Cadence heard the bedrock firmness in her mother¡¯s tone, and it made her smile. ¡°How long should it take for them to awaken?¡±

    Storyteller shrugged. ¡°Difficult to say. Depends on when they passed out in the first place.¡±

    Ryme nodded. ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll stay here. Denning, take the boys back to Felisen. I don¡¯t like leaving the village without any of us around for this long.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡± he asked.

    She nodded. ¡°Come by tomorrow, if I haven¡¯t come back yet. You can spell me.¡± She hesitated for a moment.

    Denning nodded without needing to be told. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ryme. I¡¯ll make sure the town is ready.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Ryme frowned. ¡°Storyteller¡­¡±

    ¡°No need to fear,¡± he said simply. A smooth, long-fingered hand landed on Cadence¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll get her home.¡±

    Cadence looked from her mother¡¯s face to Storyteller, dismayed. ¡°But, I want to-¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Ryme said simply. ¡°The less people they see while they¡¯re adjusting, the better. I expect they¡¯ll be in for enough of a shock, even after I explain.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon kid,¡± Storyteller said. ¡°We should talk anyways. I want to hear about how you fought these goblins.¡±

    Cadence winced dramatically, but sighed and let herself be led out of the root cellar and back into the spring sunshine without a further whine. Her mind had already turned down another muddy road.

    First the ogre, now goblins, miasma, warbeasts, and wraiths. Something was changing, something that endangered her home. Her mother.

    Cadence wanted to leave Felisen. She wanted to see the world, to have adventures. To do what she wanted, when she wanted. To have real experiences, not just those she read about and heard in stories. But how could she do that, when it seemed like everything was going wrong at once here?

 Chapter 25 - Oliver

    ¡°You,¡± Oliver accused Adeline, ¡°are a cruel and evil woman.¡± He spoke from where he was sprawled on the cold stone floor, on his back and recovering from yet another merciless beating at his mentor¡¯s hands.

    Adeline rolled her shining gray eyes at him. ¡°Oh, stop with the compliments,¡± she drawled. ¡°I didn''t even hit you that hard. You¡¯re fine.¡±

    ¡°My ribs beg to differ!¡±

    ¡°The only thing I hurt is your pride. Sit up.¡±

    Oliver groaned, but did so. Adeline¡¯s witty remarks did not, in fact, make his sides protest any less from the motion.

    The two were in one of many private rooms in Correntry¡¯s most prominent practice hall. Gift abilities and attribute boosts were great, but they could never substitute for routine training and physical conditioning, as most lazy sentinels found out¨Caround the same time their gifts alone proved insufficient to fend off a murderous outsider. Practice halls like this one catered to the more dedicated gifted, giving them a comfortable (and durable) place to practice their skills in private.

    The room was little more than a stone cube, perhaps twenty feet to a side. A few plain furnishings were arranged along one side, in addition to some simple weights and other workout equipment designed for boosted attributes, but the majority of the room was dominated by a clearly marked dueling ring. Adeline once claimed there were rooms with other specialty equipment, but they always seemed to end up in one like this.

    The only concession made for Oliver¡¯s specific needs was the large window that sat open on one wall. The air flow was a necessity for his wind abilities¨CAdeline insisted he¡¯d gain more fine control as his gift of wind leveled up, but for now he mostly specialized in either widespread sweeping attacks or focused bursts of intense air. In a sealed room, those same attacks were significantly less effective.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting better,¡± she reassured him, despite the way her eyes sparkled with amusement and the thorough thrashing she had just given him. That had been their third bout of the day, and each had ended the same way. ¡°Get a glass of water and we¡¯ll go again.¡±

    Oliver groaned louder, pushing himself to his feet as he complained. ¡°Can we please call it a day, Adel? My everything hurts.¡±

    Adeline nodded in mock sympathy, pointedly ignoring his best efforts to sway her. ¡°Sure. I bet we can convince the next tribe of kobolds we find to call it good once they¡¯ve gotten in a couple hits too, right?¡±

    Oliver rolled his eyes, but he at least had the sense to stop complaining for the time it took him to gulp down a cup of water.

    After enduring years of training to prepare him for his gifts, Oliver had thought himself fairly skilled. He knew, of course, that he¡¯d never match up to someone with the right gifts to counter his own, but he knew how to handle himself well enough. His father may not have liked him much, but no expense was spared on his instruction, physically or mentally.

    Just as Adeline had proven that his education was lacking at best and completely incorrect at worst, she had also torn apart his carefully honed fighting abilities. She incessantly needled at the way his conservative tendencies impacted his success in combat, the way he allowed the years of protocol drilled into his head to prevent him from innovating under stress, and the overall lackluster ways he used his gifts.

    Growing up, Oliver was often disappointed by the idea of Novice level. The benefits were so slight, and the abilities so few, that it had always seemed like a speed bump more than an achievement by itself. Adeline had, quite thoroughly, shown him the mistake of that mindset. Conventionally trained nobles like himself or his erstwhile rival Allid were tutored in specific fighting styles from a young age, then cultivated their gift sets to enhance those techniques. Their abilities became flourishes and versatile additions to their more conventional skills.

    By casting aside his father¡¯s plans and gaining the gift of the vanguard rather than the gift of the fencer, Oliver had also given up that option. The training he had spent his preteen and teenage years undergoing had specialized in a lightning quick, precise combat style that favored slender rapiers and sabers, which most closely matched the abilities of the gift of the fencer. His new powerset, from the gifts of wind and the vanguard, was far more focused on flexibility and adaptation to different circumstances.

    To Adeline, however, this was the opposite of a problem. She framed it as Oliver¡¯s chance to rebuild his fighting style from the ground up, implementing his core abilities into every aspect of how he fought. Ideally, she claimed, it would allow him to use his abilities more effectively than a more conventionally trained fighter. By the time he reached Initiate, the difference between him and someone like Allid would, hypothetically, be stark.

    However, it would be a long and painful road to get there.

    Oliver finished his water and turned back to Adeline. They had both foregone armor for the day to focus on technique rather than endurance, and instead wore plain practice clothes of loose tan linen. Oliver felt like he was wearing a potato sack, but somehow Adeline still managed to make the simple ensemble look attractive, with it seeming to cling to her curves even while billowing loosely around her joints.

    Recognizing the direction of his thoughts¨Cand eyes¨COliver coughed and turned to study the fresh blue sky outside instead. His quintessence pool was nearing empty, but the fresh breeze blowing through the window still felt like the beckoning of an old friend.

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I need to find you a barber,¡± Adeline observed absently, brushing her fingers through the mop of curls at the knape of his neck, fresh lemongrass perfume tickling his nose as she stepped closer to him.

    Oliver tried very hard to keep the sudden tension from showing in his neck and shoulders. He knew Adeline would notice such an obvious tell. ¡°Why?¡± he asked. To his disappointment, his voice was tight as he turned to face her.

    Adeline arched an eyebrow, showing she had noticed the reaction, but didn¡¯t press him on it. She had gotten good at that over the past few months, though she clearly held out hope he¡¯d open up on his own eventually. ¡°Your hair, that¡¯s all. You¡¯re getting sort of overgrown up there.¡±

    Oliver frowned and lifted a hand to touch his hair. She was right¨Chis dark brown locks had grown out to a length his father would never have tolerated. With it so long, his hair¡¯s natural waviness always seemed to end up in a lock of curls and tangles when he was sweaty. ¡°I like it long,¡± he told her, his tone slightly defensive.

    Again, Adeline made a pensive face, clearly hoping for further explanation. When one clearly wasn¡¯t forthcoming, she shrugged. ¡°Fine, fine. But you¡¯ve gotta at least let me tidy it up at some point, okay? Long hair doesn¡¯t have to mean messy hair, you know.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s gaze drifted to Adeline¡¯s own long blonde hair, tied back in a tail that cascaded down to her shoulder blades. It was perfectly tended as always, a smooth waterfall of golden thread. ¡°That¡­ sounds nice,¡± he agreed reluctantly.

    Adeline rolled her eyes. ¡°We really need to work on loosening you up, Oli. Now c¡¯mon, sword up!¡±

    Oliver started a little at her tone, then grinned. For some reason, he suddenly felt much more ready for another round. His wooden practice sword came up in a relaxed guard, and before Adeline could even say ¡°go,¡± he lunged at her.

    #

    ¡°That was almost not embarrassing!¡± Adeline congratulated Oliver at the end of their session. After half a dozen duels with the older woman, Oliver had barely managed to stagger over to one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs against the wall before he collapsed. Despite the unyielding nature of the wood, clearly made by a sadistic carpenter, he felt ready to fall asleep in the awkward seat.

    ¡°What, because I lasted five whole minutes in that last round?¡± Oliver asked between panting breaths, every word accompanied by a wince of discomfort.

    ¡°Almost five minutes,¡± Adeline corrected him without a hint of remorse. ¡°And yes. You¡¯re actually using your wind abilities now. There at the end, when you were using air bursts to parry my weapon without interrupting the flow of your attacks, that was actually quite excellent!¡±

    ¡°You still thrashed me.¡±

    Adeline rolled her eyes. ¡°Oliver, I¡¯ve got a decade of experience and three levels on you. If you could beat me, there¡¯d be something horribly wrong.¡±

    ¡°Can I at least have a potion this time?¡± Oliver asked, his voice little more than a shallow wheeze.

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    To Oliver¡¯s understanding, most guests in the practice hall¡¯s facilities used potions during their training, to the point that the hall kept an alchemist on staff who specialized in brewing cheap and plentiful energy potions. Certain elixirs could even restore more specialized resources like Oliver¡¯s quintessence pool, allowing him to fight as if he was fresh and rested every bout. But Adeline disdained them for several reasons.

    ¡°First of all,¡± Adeline had explained the first time Oliver brought it up, ¡°those sorts of potions add up, and I¡¯ll remind you I¡¯m training you for free. If you want me to blow a few hundred rings every day we train, you better get a lot prettier, fast.¡± Adeline followed the comment with a playful wink to show Oliver she was joking, but otherwise ignored his fiercely blushing face.

    ¡°Secondly, I don¡¯t like training under ideal circumstances.¡± Her face got considerably more serious as she explained, and Oliver¡¯s blush faded. ¡°Ideal circumstances are great. They¡¯re what noble pups and courtiers and such train for, because it¡¯s when they look the most impressive. Battle-gifted, especially at higher levels, can do some pretty impressive stuff when we go all out.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s not about what you can do when you''re rested, refreshed, and fighting on your best terms. It¡¯s about how you handle yourself when you¡¯re exhausted from a big fight, or a long string of little ones, and the enemy gets the drop on you. Or when you find yourself up against an enemy significantly stronger than you,¡± she gestured between them as she spoke, ¡°and you don¡¯t have time for a potion to get you out of it. That¡¯s when unprepared gifted die. It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re a knight, a sentinel, a warden, or a hunter. It¡¯s the worst case scenarios that define us.¡±

    Given all of that, Oliver expected his request to get shot down, despite his pain and exhaustion, but to his surprise, Adeline wavered a little bit. She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, and Oliver let his gaze drop to the ground. Even as weary as he was, that expression, combined with the way her training clothes clung to her, was a little too much for him.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she finally said with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you a potion¨Con one condition.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s head shot up despite himself, and he winced at the sudden pain in his tight neck from the motion. ¡°Really?¡± he asked, reaching up to massage his sore muscles.

    ¡°Yes, really, ¡°Adeline replied. ¡°I was serious about you needing to loosen up before you break, Oli. So. I¡¯ll give you a potion, a good one too, if you agree to come out tonight.¡± Adeline¡¯s metallic eyes danced. ¡°Correntry has a few good taverns I¡¯d like to check out. Deal?¡±

    Oliver sighed. Adeline had invited him out with her a few times since they arrived in the trade city, and he had always found an excuse to get out of it. There were more than a couple good reasons he didn¡¯t look forward to the idea of going out in a loud and uncomfortable setting with his gorgeous mentor. But he also knew that Adeline had a way of getting what she wanted eventually.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he relented. ¡°Deal.¡±

    #

    The tavern was loud.

    Oliver wasn¡¯t even sure where Adeline had found the place. It was an odd mixture of a high class restaurant, with fine foods and expensive, often magical, assortments of alcohol served by attractive serving staff, and a low class bar, complete with a crowded taproom and even a performing bard.

    The Grime and Glory catered to a particular clientele: battle-gifted. In a trade city like Correntry, this mostly meant off-duty wardens, but there were a smattering of visiting hunters, mercenaries, guards, and even sentinels from the bastion cities who stopped to rest while traversing the heartlands.

    Martially-inclined gift bearers were rare in the greater scope of the Realm, and even less common outside the bastion cities. In places like Elliven, that were dedicated to controlling the dangers of the Wastes, battle-gifted were worth their weight in gold. Only a special kind of person had the natural inclination to delve into the Wastes, the diligence to level up, and the skill to succeed and survive in combat. Sentinels were among the most respected citizens in any of the bastion cities, a respect that transcended even class¨Cindeed, most noble families could trace their lineage back to common battle-gifted that made their name in the Wastes.

    In the more settled heartlands, with monsters fewer and farther apart, there was less rigid tradition around honoring those who possessed a knack for violence. Instead, Correntry¡¯s respect for battle-gifted was born from the simple fact that they tended to have significant expendable income. While the average hunter or mercenary couldn¡¯t hope to stand toe-to-toe with a bastion-trained sentinel in a duel, their skills were still valuable enough to command a significant fee for their work, and Correntry¡¯s wardens were paid even more highly.

    All of which led to places like the Grime and Glory, pubs catering to those who were experiencing a lull between jobs and providing an opportunity for them to burn through their hard-earned money. As most of them came to such establishments with the express purpose of emptying their overfull purses, it tended to work out for everyone involved.

    Except for Oliver, who would¡¯ve much rather been back at his innroom, reading.

    He sighed into the half-full mug of ale that he¡¯d been sipping at for most of an hour. It wasn¡¯t even magical, so it was only mildly able to affect him through his increased resilience. Against his will, Oliver¡¯s eyes slowly drifted up and across the crowded room, to where Adeline was leaning against the bar, sipping an orange tinted wine, a flirtatious smile dancing across her lips as she exchanged light words with a woman he didn¡¯t recognize.

    Oliver knew that the torch he carried for his mentor was never going to be anything more than that, but watching the way she acted around the other woman only pounded the point home. He took another sip of his drink, a surprisingly light, golden brown ale. It did little to settle the twisted discomfort in his stomach.

    Oliver sighed to himself. If she was so preoccupied, maybe Adeline wouldn¡¯t notice him slipping out¡­

    His thoughts of escape were interrupted by someone taking a seat next to him. His tucked away hightop wasn¡¯t exactly an alluring table, and his dour expression didn¡¯t make it any more attractive, but the two young women, both around his age, now sitting across from him didn''t seem to care.

    ¡°You¡¯re Adeline¡¯s new squire, right?¡± one asked. She was the smaller of the two, a tiny slip of a girl with a mane of wild red hair that seemed to catch and reflect the firelight. Her otherwise porcelain skin was broken up by a wild scattering of freckles over her face and shoulders, exposed as they were by her loose cotton dress.

    ¡°Uhm¡­ yeah. Yeah, I¡¯m Oliver,¡± he replied, bewildered. ¡°How do you know Adeline?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re warden recruits,¡± the other girl explained. She was a marked contrast to her petite friend, several inches taller than Oliver and built out of solid, defined muscle, a build even bulkier than his own athletic physique. Her skin was several shades darker than the norm for Correntry, a deep olive shade that went well with the mossy green color of her close-cropped hair. ¡°We work with Farris,¡± she tilted her head to indicate the woman Adeline was speaking with.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Oliver looked between the two. The etiquette training he had spent years undergoing at his father¡¯s command completely failed him in a setting so far removed from the court he had been raised in, and he found himself grasping at straws. Somehow, ¡°why are you talking to me then?¡± didn¡¯t seem an appropriate follow-up. They had seen Adeline flirting with their mentor, but he didn¡¯t understand why that would make them interested in him.

    Finally, he managed to ask, ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s it like being a warden?

    ¡°Mostly boring training,¡± the smaller girl replied with a grin. ¡°With the occasional bout of life-threatening danger.¡±

    ¡°Sounds familiar.¡± Oliver tried for a smile, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel like his reply was awkward. Still, the other girl smiled back, so he must¡¯ve done something right. She really was quite pretty¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m Rose, by the way,¡± the first girl said, ¡°and this is Beryl.¡± She delicately patted her brawny friend''s arm¨Ca gesture of casual affection that had Oliver suppressing another sigh. Maybe she was just being polite after all. Was everyone in this tavern sun-bound?

    ¡°A pleasure,¡± he responded with the mechanical timing drilled into him by his childhood etiquette tutors. At least those lessons did something to help him seem like less of a fool to these two. ¡°Rose and Beryl¡­ those are northern names, right? Are you two from the Twin Cities?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t get nothin¡¯ past you, huh?¡± Beryl asked. The larger girl carried a tankard similar to Oliver¡¯s, but unlike him, she looked to be well on her way to draining it.

    ¡°Be nice, Beryl,¡± Rose scolded her friend, before offering Oliver a small, apologetic smile. ¡°Sorry. She gets like that when she¡¯s had a few. But yes, we¡¯re both from Dela originally.¡± Rose offered Oliver a small smile, and he tried to return it, despite how forced and rigid it felt on his face.

    ¡°Do you mind if I ask what brings you all the way out here?¡± The Twin Cities of Cita and Dela were the northernmost settlements in the Realm, tasked with the management of the vast Verdant Wastes that defined the Realm¡¯s northern borders. It would be a journey of months to reach Correntry, in the center of the southern heartlands, from those distant territories.

    The pert smile Rose had worn since the two girls sat down soured a little. ¡°Oh, circumstances, you know.¡± Her reply was as airy as ever, but some sort of pain lurked behind the words, obvious even to Oliver.

    ¡°Of course. My apologies, it wasn¡¯t my intention to pry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Nothing worth dwelling on tonight.¡± Beryl¡¯s brash tone had also faded to something more serious as she slid a comforting hand to her friend¡¯s arm. Rose offered a wan smile before turning back to Oliver, while the brawny woman held out her tankard. ¡°To family, by blood or spirit.¡±

    Oliver nodded. He didn¡¯t recognize the toast despite the ritualistic feel of the words, but it was a sentiment he could fully agree with. For once, he managed to come up with a reply that sounded good, and he lifted his own cup. ¡°To family, bound or found.¡±

    Beryl grinned and bumped her tankard against his. ¡°Bound or found! I like that!¡±

    Rose managed to revive her own smile, and added her delicate glass of dark wine to the toast.

    ¡°Welllll, look at these three! How cute!¡± Adeline¡¯s drunken voice interrupted the moment, as she and the warden she had been flirting with, Farris, joined them at their table.

    Oliver cringed at her volume. As serious as she was during training and in the field, he sometimes forgot that Adeline was less than a decade older than him, and she seemed much more like her twenty-some years than normal as she swayed over to the table.

    ¡°I think you might¡¯ve had enough, Adel,¡± Oliver told the older knight gently.

    ¡°Boooo!¡± she jeered at him, taking another swig of her wine, which looked only marginally ridiculous given the elegant glass she was drinking from.

    The three wardens grinned, and Adeline¡¯s drinking companion exchanged introductions with Oliver. Farris was tall for a woman, with a body of compact curves and spingsteel muscle. Her features were striking in an unconventional way, and she walked with an easy, relaxed confidence.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she supposed to be your mentor? A silver knight and all that?¡± Rose leaned a little closer to Oliver as she spoke, arching a delicate eyebrow at his mentor¡¯s behavior.

    He groaned and slouched in his seat. ¡°Sometimes I wonder.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get another round!¡± Adeline cheered.

 Chapter 26 - Oliver

    The heavy clunk of wood bashing against wood echoed through the practice hall¡¯s largest chamber. Oliver¡¯s carefully weighted practice sword, carved into the shape of a longsword and weighted with a lead rod in its center, flashed through a rapid combination of attacks, every one met smoothly by Beryl¡¯s thick warstaff. Slowly, he started to move slightly to the left, forcing the warden recruit¡¯s weapon farther and farther to the side, until he abruptly spun in a roundhouse kick, his boot flying straight for the muscular young woman¡¯s side.

    She was ready for him, as she always seemed to be. One of her hands slid to the center of her warstaff, keeping it balanced while the other caught his foot around the ankle. With a grunt of effort, she turned into a spin, hurling Oliver at one of the hard stone walls of the practice chamber.

    Oliver summoned his Mantle of Wind as quickly as he could.

    [Mantle of Wind] - Active, Utility - Conjure a small cloak of swirling wind around yourself. Reduces fall speed. One minute duration. Minor quintessence cost.

    He had learned that the same ability of the mantle to slow his falls could also arrest his momentum when he was thrown, and he used the opportunity to turn in the air, bracing his feet again the wall and throwing his hand forward, palms out, to release a staccato rhythm of air bursts.

    He felt his quintessence pool dropping from the effort, but it was worth it, as Beryl had already sent a trio of bricks hurtling towards him. The sudden gusts weren¡¯t enough to stop the heavy projectiles, but it did deflect them to the sides. A final burst of wind was timed with him pushing off of the wall, sending him flying back at his opponent, practice sword extended, as he activated his Reckless Strike attack.

    [Reckless Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Major stamina cost.

    Beryl¡¯s lips turned up in a wild grin as she used her own special attack, settling both of her hands at the bottom of her warstaff, lifting it overhead and swinging it downward in a powerful blow. The attacks struck at the same time, sending both Novices flying backwards fast enough that they couldn¡¯t bring their own powers into play to soften their impacts. Each slammed into opposite walls with a grunt of pain. Oliver felt something snap in his ribcage, while Beryl coughed out a mouthful of blood.

    But neither had even fallen to the ground before Rose was at work, her healing magic settling into both of them like a cool breeze. Oliver well knew that it was best to hold still while the petite girl worked her magic, and was content to stay slouched against the wall while he waited for the pain to recede.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting better,¡± Beryl acknowledged minutes later, after they were both healed.

    Oliver grinned back at the brawny girl as they walked to the pitcher of water waiting on a small table to one side of the room. ¡°Not good enough. The closest I¡¯ve gotten to a win is a tie.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re learning each other¡¯s strategies. No problem there.¡±

    ¡°No problem!?¡± Rose interjected as she stormed over. ¡°You two are getting better and better at hurting each other, and you think that¡¯s a good thing?¡±

    Oliver exchanged a baffled look with Beryl. ¡°I mean¡­ it¡¯s kind of the job, Rose,¡± he pointed out.

    The small healer rolled her eyes. ¡°Savages, the both of you.¡±

    Since the night Farris and Adeline had met, two weeks before, group training had become the norm. The three Novices had quickly come to enjoy each other¡¯s company, and the girls appreciated the chance to practice with someone closer to their own level as much as Oliver did. So, despite the fact that the two older gifted left the trio alone to practice together most afternoons, none of them had much reason to complain.

    Beryl had the Warrior¡¯s gift of the brawler and the Primal¡¯s gift of earth, which made her even more of a dedicated frontliner than Oliver¨Chypothetically, at least. At Novice level, their ability sets had several marked similarities, which made them excellent sparring partners. Rose had the same gift of wind as Oliver, but paired it with the Mage¡¯s gift of the animist. As coveted as it was rare, the gift allowed the easiest access to healing magic among the gifts available at Novice rank, and Rose was, fittingly, geared towards support.

    The training the two girls had received was closer to Adeline¡¯s ideal for battle-gifted. Having scarcely any combat experience prior to receiving their gifts, their fighting styles were built from the ground up around their newfound abilities. While they were, objectively, less skilled than Oliver after his years of tutelage growing up, they made the most of every gift ability they had, and both had quickly proven themselves more than his equal.

    Every day, the trio would practice different skills. Some sessions, like today¡¯s, Oliver and Beryl would spend sparring with Rose healing them, while for others, Rose and Oliver would practice with their wind abilities, trying to overwhelm each other or Beryl. And while their mentors felt less need to oversee them directly while they were working together, Farris and Adeline had no problem occasionally stepping up themselves, forcing the three to work on their teamwork and tactics while showing off the difference between an admittedly talented Novice and a skilled Adept.

    ¡°Do we want to go another round?¡± Oliver asked.

    Rose groaned. ¡°Please no. My mana is just about running dry with how badly you two keep beating each other.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be plenty for today,¡± Farris instructed from the door. None of them had noticed the warden arrive, and she was leaning casually against the entryway of their practice chamber.

    Oliver turned to the experienced warden, and as usual, he couldn¡¯t help himself from looking her over. Ever since the first night they met, he had found something intriguing about the woman. It wasn¡¯t that he felt the same way about her that he did for Adeline, though she certainly was attractive. But there was something he couldn¡¯t quite place in her features, something about the line of her jaw, the curves of her hips, the swaggering confidence of her stride. Something he couldn¡¯t help but find striking.

    With a sigh, he shook his head and looked away. No doubt Farris had noticed his stare, but she didn¡¯t comment.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Adeline?¡± He asked.

    ¡°The Grime and Glory.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s groan was nearly as loud as Beryl and Rose¡¯s cheers. For some reason, his training companions thought a night at the bustling tavern was an ideal reward for a hard day¡¯s work, and he had found that he was obligated to join them, much to his chagrin. He had picked up a few new books from an excellent binder in the market district just a couple days before he had met the wardens, but he had barely had time to touch them!

    Farris indulged the girls for a moment before cutting off their cheers. ¡°Unfortunately, we have business before we can get to pleasure.¡±

    Oliver perked up at that, while the two girls traded a look.

    ¡°Business, ma¡¯am?¡± Rose asked carefully. While Farris was close with her recruits, Oliver had noticed that she encouraged them to maintain a level of professionalism with her. It was a far cry from Adeline, who always treated Oliver with a casual friendliness, even when she felt he had earned a frustrated tongue-lashing.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Farris told them. ¡°It¡¯s high time the three of you took on a mission.¡±

    #

    Farris guided the three Novices to their usual watering hole. As it was only mid-afternoon, the tavern was quiet, only hosting a few travelers, all of whom were just tucking in for lunch.

    The walk there had been unexpectedly quiet. Farris was intense and focused in a way Oliver hadn¡¯t seen from the warden before, and her demeanor seemed to pass itself to Beryl and Rose, both of whom were far more reserved than usual. He figured they were just as caught up in the anxiety of going out on a real job as he was.

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    Of course, he had been out in the field since he left Elliven with Adeline, taking small jobs like the kobold tribe they had cleared out. But clearly, Farris had something else in mind. Were they really going to be going out by themselves?

    The warden swept past the bar and dining room where the group had usually been spending their evenings unwinding, and led them to the staircase in the corner of the tavern, then down a hall and through a door.

    Oliver had known there was a second floor to the building, and a third, but had assumed they were all sleeping rooms for travelers. He and Adeline had been staying in a similar, but noticeably cheaper, inn since they arrived in the trade city of Correntry. Apparently his assumption was incorrect, as Farris led them into what looked more like a comfortably appointed lounge.

    A ring of cushioned chairs sat around a low table that had a large map spread out across it. Oliver recognized the general layout of the heartlands, but he had never seen such a detailed map of the settled southern half of the Realm before. In the middle of its western reaches sat Correntry, while Elliven and the Arboreal Wastes sat farther to the southeast, the current reaches of the Waste carefully marked out. The northern border of the map centered on the grand city of Arsilet, the Realm¡¯s capital, with the perfectly circular Lunar Wastes cut in half by the map¡¯s edge. Farther to the southeast, along the curve of the coastline, was Correnty¡¯s sister city, Emeston.

    Adeline was already sitting at the table, and she gestured for the three youths to take their own seats while Farris walked around the table to sit next to the knight. Rose and Beryl sat next to each other, while Oliver left a small gap between himself and the two girls.

    Adeline gave Farris a sidelong look and asked, ¡°How were they doing?¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± the warden reported warmly, giving the three a brief look before continuing. ¡°Seems like Oliver can keep up with Beryl now pretty well¨Cthough we both know a training room is different from the real thing.¡±

    ¡°Still. They¡¯re ready?¡±

    ¡°As much as they can be.¡±

    ¡°What is this about, Adel?¡± Oliver finally asked, interrupting the pair. Farris gave him a sour look, but Oliver continued, ¡°Don¡¯t act like you didn¡¯t want us to hear all of that. You could¡¯ve left us downstairs if you really needed to talk about us like that.¡±

    Oliver could see both Beryl and Rose flash him a look of alarm from the corner of his vision, but he kept his eyes on the two older women, who traded a look at his question.

    Finally, after a tense moment, Farris sighed. The warden reached into a pocket and pulled out a silver scepter, sliding the coin across the table to Adeline.

    ¡°Told you so,¡± Adeline commented as she snatched up the coin and offered Oliver a wink that made him practically glow.

    ¡°Okay, what was that?¡± Beryl asked with a scowl.

    ¡°A lesson,¡± Rose observed thoughtfully. ¡°We might use our powers better than Oliver, but he¡¯s still been dealing with politics since he was old enough to walk.¡±

    ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡±

    Farris huffed a breath in exasperation. ¡°Adeline wanted to prove a point. We¡¯ve been focusing on your combat abilities, but being a warden or a knight means more than just being good at killing things.¡±

    ¡°It also means being able to pick up on the unfortunate political realities around you,¡± Adeline picked up the explanation. ¡°That is one area where you¡¯ll find Oliver has far more natural ability.¡±

    Oliver blushed at the praise and lifted a hand to rub the back of his head. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know about that.¡±

    Adeline rolled her eyes. ¡°Stop being so humble,¡± she complained. Of course, to his chagrin, that only made Oliver blush harder.

    ¡°The point is,¡± Farris continued, ¡°you all have skills you bring to the table. Which is why we¡¯re putting the three of you together for a job.¡±

    ¡°As in, just the three of us? Without you?¡± Oliver asked.

    Farris scowled at him. ¡°Hypothetically. As long as you don¡¯t interrupt me again and make me throw you through a wall.¡±

    Oliver flashed Adleine a look of alarm, but the blonde knight just shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s listening time now, Oli.¡±

    The boy couldn¡¯t suppress a flare of embarrassment. As much as Adeline teased him about his rigidity, apparently he had loosened up more than he realized. He wasn¡¯t used to stoic professionalism like Farris¡¯s anymore.

    With a lifetime¡¯s experience of concealing his emotions, Oliver quickly schooled his face into a respectfully blank expression and bowed his head at the warden. ¡°Apologies, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Farris nodded shallowly in acknowledgement and resumed her explanation. ¡°Several merchants following the Flax Road have reported attacks recently.¡± The warden leaned forward and traced out one of the roads highlighted on the map. The trade route meandered out of Correntry and through the rolling fields of the eastern heartlands. In several places, it would suddenly turn sharply to one side of another, cutting from the dry fields where flax was grown to the riverside communities where mills would process it.

    ¡°Of course, wardens were quick to investigate,¡± Farris continued, ¡°but none of them observed any notable monster, outlaw, or outsider activity, despite following normal protocols.¡± Farris noticed a look of confusion from Oliver and explained, ¡°Wardens generally travel without any clear indicators of our station, so that our presence doesn¡¯t ward off any possible attacks by itself.¡± She returned her attention to the full group as she continued, ¡°Despite these precautions, two more caravans were attacked, even as wardens were on the road. Both were relatively small caravans, and both happened to be among those with no wardens attached to them.

    ¡°There are a few reasons why that could be the case¨Cbut none of them are good. I was tasked by my commander to pursue the most likely, namely, the presence of a magically sensitive monster. We believe that if a lesser monster spawned with sufficient senses to detect gifted, it¡¯s possible that it would instinctively avoid caravans with full-fledged wardens, all of whom are Initiate level or higher. These sorts of monsters have been seen before, and are a significant problem¨Cgenerally speaking, they avoid people with the raw power to kill them, and the Correntry wardens don¡¯t have anyone with the right gifts to track and chase them down.¡±

    Oliver drew in a sharp breath as the situation became clear. He looked at Adeline for confirmation of his thoughts, and she nodded gently. ¡°That brings us to the three of you,¡± the knight told them. ¡°To be perfectly honest, you¡¯re all functioning at a level of skill beyond any of the more traditionally trained warden cadets. Enough so that we both think you could handle a lesser monster¨Ctogether, at least.¡±

    Oliver frowned thoughtfully. Something about the job didn¡¯t quite seem right to him, but he couldn¡¯t put his finger on it.

    As he considered the facts, he half-listened to Beryl and Rose ask for further details on what exactly they¡¯d be doing. Farris explained that she had already contacted a trader who met their needs very well¨CHugo himself was only Apprentice level, with no combat gifts, and none of his five employees were above Novice level. They¡¯d add a third wagon to his little troupe, which Rose and Beryl apparently had enough expertise to drive without a problem, while Oliver took the role of an additional laborer.

    ¡°What do you think the monster is after?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s unclear,¡± Farris responded. ¡°A stealthy monster like this wouldn¡¯t be attacking just for the sake of destroying things, the way some rage-aspected beasts are known to, but the crops and supplies on the caravans have been ripped apart, not eaten.¡±

    ¡°Several bodies were reported missing, however,¡± Adeline added. ¡°It¡¯s likely that the monster is a maneater of some kind.¡±

    Rose and Beryl both became more intent at that description¨COliver didn¡¯t need a charm boon to notice the anger that idea seemed to stoke in both young women.

    ¡°I¡¯m confused about something,¡± Oliver finally asked. ¡°How do you know that this it¡¯s just a lesser monster we¡¯re dealing with?¡±

    ¡°We believe that if it was a moderate or something stronger,¡± Farris explained, ¡°it would be attacking larger caravans than it is limiting itself to.¡±

    ¡°But what if it¡¯s an outsider?¡± Oliver asked. The thought was obvious to him, and he expected it should be to his more experienced mentors as well. ¡°Maybe some predatory monster might limit itself to prey it thinks it can handle, but a revenant or a hag with the right powers could definitely be intelligent enough to restrict itself to groups it knows it can defeat with limited fuss. I¡¯m happy you think so highly of us, but there¡¯s no way we could take a moderate ranked outsider.¡±

    Farris frowned, and Adeline¡¯s face showed her own concerns. ¡°It¡¯s not ideal,¡± Adeline admitted. ¡°But simply put, we don¡¯t have any better options.¡±

    ¡°No one ever said being a warden¨Cor a knight¨Cwould be safe,¡± Farris added with a glower.

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to force you¨Cany of you¨Cto take this mission,¡± Adeline told them, giving Beryl and Rose a pointed look as well. ¡°We think it¡¯s a lesser monster, but there¡¯s every reason to believe it could be something more powerful as well. And given the nature of the attacks, we won¡¯t be able to be on hand to assist you. You¡¯ll be on your own.¡±

    Oliver frowned again. His initial excitement had waned as he realized just how dangerous this undertaking had the potential to be. The Novice wardens seemed to be feeling similarly, their previous anger turning into something more uncertain.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be the problem,¡± Oliver finally decided. ¡°I have my concerns, but you¡¯re both right. I knew trying to join the Argent Order would be dangerous. If Beryl and Rose are in favor, I¡¯ll go along with it.¡±

    ¡°Well I¡¯m not backing down either,¡± Beryl jumped in immediately. Oliver had to keep from cringing¨Che should¡¯ve known that the brawny girl would see his phrasing as a challenge. ¡°Defending the roads is what being a warden is all about. I¡¯m ready!¡±

    Rose sighed and shook her head. ¡°Well, I suppose I can¡¯t let the two of you run off and get yourselves killed because I wasn¡¯t there to patch you up.¡± Something hard and dark, very different from the prim young woman¡¯s normal demeanor, showed in her eyes. ¡°No one deserves to die on the road like that.

    Farris nodded her approval at her two wards, and Oliver met Adeline¡¯s eyes. The senior knight clearly had her own concerns, but her silver eyes blazed with equally obvious pride.

    ¡°Well. I guess that¡¯s that then,¡± Oliver said. ¡°When do we leave?¡±

    ¡°Two days.¡±

 Chapter 27 - Oliver

    Oliver had little money of his own since he had left his family name behind. His formal role as a squire with the Argent Order entitled him to a small stipend, but most of that was paid directly to their inn and the dueling hall by Adeline. There was some small amount leftover¨Cbut a childhood of wealth and comfort had left Oliver with none of the mental discipline needed to save up his money, most of which was spent on either fine food at the Grime and Glory or new books.

    Adeline took pity on him, and in an attempt to ensure he was properly prepared for the coming journey, she paid him his stipend in advance for the next two months¨Cthe expected time it would take for Hugo¡¯s wagons to make a full circuit of the Flax Road. Oliver spent much of the day following the meeting out in the market and craft districts of Correntry. Adeline had refrained from joining him, claiming that she wanted to see how he went about preparing himself.

    His first purchase was a high quality arming jacket. Ideally, the light cloth armor would be worn under a chain shirt or other, heavier armor, but as Oliver lacked the funds for such expensive gear, he instead purchased a quilted jacket lined with hardened leather and reinforced with iron plates in key locations. It was no substitute for true armor, but it was the best he could afford, and it would do an admirable job of balancing protection and mobility.

    The bulk of his remaining funds were spent on more conventional supplies¨Csome simple extra garments, a tinderbox and lantern, a small dagger that could serve as a backup weapon in addition to its utility purposes, and a half dozen trailbars. The hard rations were made from an assortment of mildly magical reagents¨Cdried berries, nuts, grains, and the like¨Cand could sustain even a gifted for days at a time, so long as he could palate the taste of them. Adeline had assured him that Hugo would be seeing to their meals, but Oliver felt better with the bars in hand, despite their cost. Hunger had been one of his father¡¯s favorite punishments over the years, and if he got separated from the caravan, the bars would be worth their weight in gold.

    The last of his money he spent on a pair of books, both bound with hard covers and wrapped in treated cloth to keep them safe on the road. They were a little different from his usual preferred genre, but he hoped they¡¯d prove a key advantage in the coming journey.

    With all of that, plus a good bag to carry it all, Oliver was left with little more than a few copper rings in his purse, a meager enough fortune that he expected he wouldn¡¯t even draw a pickpocket''s eyes.

    That evening, Adeline inspected his purchases with a critical eye. She judged his armor acceptable, and praised him for focusing on it before anything else, as well as his decision to invest in the trailbars. His books drew a flat look, until she opened them up and checked the covers, after which she judged them a good buy.

    ¡°It¡¯s the simple things that get you killed on the road,¡± she observed. ¡°You are missing something though.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s eyes widened, and he looked from his unpacked bag back to Adeline. ¡°What? I thought I got everything!¡±

    ¡°And then some,¡± she observed dryly. ¡°But it¡¯s fine¨Cnow I know what to get you as a going-away present!¡±

    #

    The next night was Oliver¡¯s last in Correntry. Even as he and the two warden recruits were departing with Hugo¡¯s caravan, Adeline and Farris were going off on a job of their own, chasing rumors of a minotaur that had taken up residence in an abandoned mineshaft a week north of the city. The moderate monster was far too dangerous to take the less experienced trainees to fight, so the older battle-gifted had decided to take advantage of their absence to push themselves.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had a real challenge in so long!¡± Adeline cheered that night, as they shared a last round together at the Grime and Glory.

    ¡°Mhm, I¡¯m sure that¡¯s all you¡¯re excited about,¡± Oliver observed dryly, noting the way Adeline rested a casual hand on Farris¡¯s arm.

    ¡°Shush, you.¡±

    Despite the daily ritual their drinks had become over the past couple weeks, Oliver had never warmed up to the nights at the Grime and Glory the way the rest of the little group had, and he usually took any opportunity he could to sneak out of the bustling tavern. But as this was likely to be their last night together for some time, he was trying to stick it out.

    Given the time Oliver was due to spend with Hugo¡¯s caravan, it would be well into summer before Oliver made it back into Correntry, and there was no guarantee that Adeline would be waiting around for him. It was normal, she claimed, for a knight of the Argent Order to spend weeks at a time on the road, and it was possible her return to the city wouldn¡¯t line up with Oliver¡¯s.

    All five of them tried to keep the night cheerful, but Oliver couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the others shared the specter of melancholy that hung over his head and gnawed at his belly. After they had eaten and shared a couple rounds together, the group went their separate ways.

    Farris gave Oliver a nod as she took her own trainees off for a more intimate farewell, and Oliver was struck once again by her features, which were so unlike any other women he had met. Even after weeks together, he hadn¡¯t placed the odd energy that intrigued him so much about Farris, to the point that he sometimes wondered if she was perhaps some kind of wraith, or commanded a passive gift ability he wasn¡¯t familiar with. Despite her rigid demeanor, he decided that he wanted to get to know the older warden better when he returned to the city.

    ¡°She wants to talk to you, you know,¡± Adeline told him as they walked out of the Grime and Glory, heading to their own, less luxurious apartments.

    Oliver arched an eyebrow. ¡°What do you mean? About what?¡±

    Adeline studied him for a long moment, as if surprised, then shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out when you¡¯re ready. I like your hair by the way. You were right, it does look better long.¡±

    Oliver chuckled at the subject change and lifted a hand to touch his hair. It had grown out significantly in the month they had stayed in Correntry, and Oliver had been pleased to find his natural curls turned into waviness as it approached his neck. It was still an awkward length, just past his ears, but it had become a symbol to him, in many ways, of his growth since he had left Elliven and his father behind.

    It was late now, and the streets of Correntry were dark, every other lamp darkened for the night. The air was cool with the last remnants of winter, but not enough to require anything heavier than the simple clothes they both wore. They walked in comfortable silence for several minutes before Oliver spoke up again. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a while before we see each other again.¡±

    Adeline nodded. ¡°It will. How do you feel about that?¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure,¡± Oliver confessed. ¡°I mean, I wouldn''t be here if it wasn¡¯t for you. But I also know I can¡¯t just keep holding you back, waiting for me to¡­¡±

    Adeline laughed gently. ¡°Relax, Oli. I¡¯m far from done teaching you. In a few months, we¡¯ll be back together. And to be honest, I can¡¯t wait to see how you grew on the road, without me. You should be well on the way to Apprentice by then.¡±

    Oliver flushed, and admitted something he never thought he would. ¡°You know that¡¯s not the only reason I don¡¯t want to leave you.¡± He wished his voice didn¡¯t sound so petulant, so childish, when he said it.

    Adeline¡¯s reply was as gentle as the look she gave him. ¡°I know Oliver. Of course I know. But¡­ you have to have realized it¡¯s not going to happen.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve seen you with Farris. I guess I just didn¡¯t realize you were¡­ well¡­¡±

    ¡°Solar?¡± Adeline asked.

    Oliver felt his cheeks practically lit up with an incandescent blush, and he pointedly looked down at his feet. ¡°Uhm¡­ yeah. That.¡±

    Adeline chuckled. ¡°Oli, my orientation isn¡¯t what matters. You¡¯re my trainee, and a teenager, and a Novice, and I literally took you away from your home.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t take me, you saved me!¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but still.¡± Adeline shook her head. ¡°I like you, Oliver. You¡¯re the first squire I¡¯ve ever taken on, and I enjoy the time we spend together. Differences aside, you¡¯re as much my friend as my student. But that is all we are, understand?¡±

    Oliver felt his chest twist with a thousand feelings. He had never expected his silly crush on her to go anywhere, and he knew that her blunt words were needed, but it was still hard for him. Reluctantly, he admitted, ¡°I know.¡±

    He and Adeline walked through the quiet streets for several more minutes without a word. In the distance, they could hear the cheers and jests of another drinking hall that must¡¯ve been close by.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a good thing we¡¯re going to spend some time apart,¡± Oliver finally said.

    Adeline grinned. ¡°Sure. It¡¯ll give you time to get over me.¡± With a wink, she added, ¡°Maybe Rose or Beryl can help.¡±

    Oliver rolled his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. I¡¯m pretty sure they share your tastes.¡±

    Adeline shook her head with another chuckle. ¡°I forget just how restrictive the Court tends to be. Are you really not aware that some people swing both ways?¡±

    Oliver blushed even deeper. ¡°I mean¡­ I¡¯m aware but, like¡­¡± Suddenly, he stopped walking, giving Adeline a shocked look. ¡°Wait! Are you saying that¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m saying shut up and keep your eyes open, Oli.¡±

    ¡°Adeline?¡± The knight-gallant kept walking, not giving him another look. ¡°That wasn¡¯t an answer!¡±

    #

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ beautiful!¡±

    Adeline smiled widely at Oliver¡¯s awe over her present. ¡°Well? Put it on!¡±

    He was still stunned over the fine fabric he had revealed, and it took another prompting from Adeline before he pulled the fine gray cloth out of the paper packaging it was wrapped in.

    It proved to be a traveling cloak, perfectly fit to him, complete with a hood deep enough to keep the rain off of his head and a series of little pockets on the inside.The dark-gray cloth it was made of looked simple enough, but it was incredibly soft to the touch, like the silk shirts his father saved for when he wanted to look his best.

    ¡°It¡¯s incredible¡­¡± Oliver said in an awed whisper as he lifted his arm and turned about, feeling the way it flowed off his back.

    ¡°I told you that you were missing something. No traveler is complete with a good cloak.¡± Adeline happily danced closer to him, as expressive and affectionate as always, despite the awkward conversation they had on their walk to the inn.

    As she leaned in close enough that Oliver could smell her perfume, like a freshly brewed fruit tea of raspberries, ginger, and lemongrass, crisp soft silk, and watery sunshine in the middle of winter, he absently wondered if she was fully aware of exactly what she was doing, or if this really was just how Adeline was.

    She lifted one side of the cloak to reveal the small pockets sewn on the inside, each knotted closed. There were four, arranged in a square, on each side of the cloth. ¡°I bought this from a tailor with the gift of the artificer. Each of the pockets has a simple force dispersion rune¨Cit¡¯ll require a very strong, very deliberate, impact to break anything inside.¡± She tapped the top pair of pockets on one side. ¡°These each have a healing potion, and the bottom two have recovery potions. For emergencies only.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Oliver grinned, recalling Adeline¡¯s very vocal opinions of people who relied on potions. He pinched a bit of the cloth between his fingers and rubbed it, marveling at the smooth, almost frictionless feel of the fabric. ¡°What¡¯s this material?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s the best part!¡± Adeline told him. ¡°It¡¯s frostwool! I guess it¡¯s produced by this breed of magical sheep a few villages in the frontier specialize in. In the cold, it¡¯s an incredible insulator¨Cdespite how thin this is, it should be more than enough to keep you warm, even in a blizzard!¡±

    Oliver nodded, then furrowed his brow. ¡°But Adeline¡­ it¡¯s the middle of the spring.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Adeline said excitedly. ¡°See, this is what makes frostwool so useful¨Cwhen it gets warm enough, it actually starts producing cold instead! It allows the sheep that produce it to grow even thick coats in the peak of summer¨Cand it should be enough to keep you comfortable even as it warms up.¡±

    Oliver blinked at the knight, then down at the fabric, stunned by the implication. ¡°But¡­ Adel, if this is a magical material and it has artifice in it, it must¡¯ve cost¡­ I don¡¯t even know! Too much! I can¡¯t take this from you!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not taking it from me, I¡¯m giving it to you! It¡¯s a gift from a mentor to her student!¡± Oliver started to protest, and Adeline shoved a finger across his mouth. ¡°Shush! It is a present, and if you don¡¯t take it, I¡¯ll be very offended.¡± She said the last with an air of feigned imperiousness that didn¡¯t hide the way her eyes sparkled.

    Oliver finally relented and held up his hands in surrender. ¡°Okay, okay. Thank you, Adel.¡± He lifted his arms to inspect the cloak again, stunned by the beauty of the material. ¡°It¡¯s the finest present I¡¯ve ever received.¡±

    ¡°Good, because that was the whole reason I bought it.¡± Adeline winked playfully, and for once, Oliver¡¯s breath wasn¡¯t entirely knocked out of him by the gesture. ¡°And, one last thing¡­¡±

    With practiced motions, Adeline grabbed a small loop on each side of the cloak and pulled them up, connecting them to small buttons on the inside. A few similar touches in key places around the cloak cinched the fabric in some areas while leaving it draping in others. The result drastically shortened the fabric, so that it only reached his knees, but fully surrounded his body in it. In fact, Oliver thought as he looked down at it, it almost looked like¡­ like¡­

    Like a layered, draping dress.

    Oliver¡¯s eyes went wide, and suddenly it felt like he couldn¡¯t catch his breath. ¡°W-why would I want this?¡± he demanded of Adeline, panic and anger warring on his face.

    She was as calm as ever, unflappable in the face of his confusion. ¡°Because. I think you deserve to feel pretty sometimes.¡±

    ¡°I¨C I don¡¯t¡­ you shouldn¡¯t, I mean¨C¡±

    ¡°Shh.¡± Adeline stepped closer and wrapped Oliver in a soft hug. With their bodies pressed together, Oliver noticed for the first time how similar their heights were. He had always thought of the older knight as taller than him. His chin rested comfortably on her shoulder, and he felt his traitorous body relax. The smell of her, like fresh tea and sunshine in the middle of winter, filled his nostrils, squeezed at his heart and the turbulent emotions inside him. ¡°Adel, I¡­¡± they whimpered into her hair.

    ¡°Shh. Don¡¯t. You don¡¯t need to explain, or talk about it, or anything else,¡± Adeline reassured him.

    Oliver felt the words break something inside, releasing a slow stream of tears. Tears for a child who just wanted to express themself. Tears for the stories that had been thrown in the fire. Tears for someone who felt seen for the first time in their life.

 Chapter 28 - Allana

    Allana sighed, bowing her head against the crenellation in front of her. Being an assassin, she had learned, was a lot more sitting around and waiting than action or killing.

    ¡°The four P¡¯s,¡± she muttered to herself, mocking Geoffrey despite his absence. ¡°Patience, preparation, perception and fucking pissed off.¡±

    Even in her frustration, she kept her voice to a whisper, pitched such that it would barely carry a few feet¨Ccertainly, it wouldn¡¯t make it off the tiled rooftop she was perched on, maintaining her solitary watch.

    For two weeks now, she and Geoffrey had worked in shifts to watch the workshop of the chandler he had taken a contract on the month before. Algus Heggen, of Heggen¡¯s Fine Luminaries. A withered old husk of a candlemaker who, as far as she could tell, was guilty of little besides being a sour cuss that even most of the area¡¯s criminals didn¡¯t want to deal with.

    His shop never did brisk business, but apparently either those he did sell to bought in bulk, or his stock was exorbitantly expensive. Despite his apparent shortage of customers, he had successfully fended off the financial pressure of a few of the local, short-lived loan sharks who cropped up in any neighborhood that had independent businesses to prey on. Though Geoffrey kept all of his contracts blind, with no direct contact with those who purchased his services, Allana suspected that it was one of those same moneylenders who had sicced the assassin on the old man.

    She didn¡¯t like to think about that side of things very often. Geoffrey¡¯s skill, wealth, and class all gave the impression of being above such petty squabbles, but his career choice still meant that he was hired to settle grudges more than anything else. Allana didn¡¯t want to live that way.

    It was one of the many inconsistencies she had noted in her time working with the professional assassin. Geoffrey seemed intelligent and even kind in his own way, but at the end of the day, he was still a weapon in the shadowy battlefields of Lowrun¡¯s cutthroat politics. An expensive weapon, but a weapon all the same.

    But still¡­ he did manage to keep himself out of the worst kinds of work, and he had the luxury of being selective in his contracts.

    More of his time was spent hunting outsiders and other monsters than killing, or even preparing to kill, people. At some point, despite Geoffrey never saying so, Allana had intuited that someone was funding that activity, even if she didn¡¯t know who. It was hard to imagine the wardens or the Golden Council paying Geoffrey to kill some dire vermin that would only harm the people living in Lowrun. Rogue knew the Powers-That-Be in Highwalk never showed much care for the slum-dwellers otherwise.

    And there was his pursuit of Telik. There was no way anyone else in Lowrun had the money to purchase a contract on the slumlord. Sure, some of the richer merchants, like those that sat on the Golden Council, might be able to afford it, but they wouldn¡¯t dare. Allana knew personally that a significant part of Telik¡¯s business came from acting as a middleman between thieves, brigands, and murderers, fencing their ill-gotten goods to legitimate merchants to sell¨Cat a steep percentage, of course. Telik¡¯s role was too crucial for the Golden Council to purchase his death out of hand.

    Nevertheless, Geoffrey pursued his investigation of Telik¡¯s defenses diligently. Rogue only knew how many plans the wily assassin had concocted to kill Allana¡¯s former patron, only to discard each in turn. She just didn¡¯t understand. Clearly she was missing something about Geoffrey and how he operated. She could only hope that, eventually, he would let her in on his secrets in their entirety.

    Instead, she turned her mind back to Algus Heggen, the chandler. An innocuous enough man, he seemed an odd contract for Geoffrey to take. So Allana had been whiling away her hours on watch duty trying to puzzle out exactly what made the old man worth killing. It helped to pass the time on her long shifts, cloaked by her gift of stealth on the rooftop across from his shop. At the very least, the roof in question belonged to a successful cooper, and consisted of smooth tile punctuated by elaborate crenulations. Decorations like that made hiding simple with her abilities.

    [Obscuring Veil] - Active, Illusion - Manifest an illusion that partially masks you from conventional senses. Veil is most effective in darkness or other obscuring conditions. Minor focus cost recurs as long as the veil is active.

    ¡°So, option one,¡± Allana reiterated to herself, ¡°he stood up to the wrong man, so now he gets to die.¡± Speaking out loud helped her think¨Cthough she still kept her voice to the barest whisper. ¡°But that sucks. And moneylenders live about as long as rats. Half the men who tried to lean on Algus are dead now. It doesn¡¯t make sense for any of them to be able to buy a contract on some guy who stood up to them. They¡¯d be more likely to just send some bruisers around to teach him a lesson.¡±

    ¡°Option two then¡­¡± She¡¯d been chewing on option two for several days now, since she dismissed option one a few days in. ¡°With how few customers he has, he must have some sort of wealthy benefactor. Maybe he has a standing order with a couple of the goldshits up in Highreach, to provide with all the candles they need to light their mansions, or whatever. One of them might have the money to buy a contract from Geoffrey.¡±

    Of course, that brought her back to the real problem with that idea. ¡°Why would a merchant kill some chandler? Especially if they have an ongoing trade deal.¡± Allana pursed her lips as she came up short again. Sure, she could imagine a hundred long, drawn out hypotheticals that could lead to a wealthy merchant killing a random craftsman, but it took a few too many logical leaps for her to feel good about that guess.

    ¡°Unless¡­¡± Allana¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she stared down at the storefront below. It was past dark already, and though Algus¡¯s shop was open, his curtains were drawn, admitting only a small bit of flickering light from inside. She could imagine the old man going about his work, making new candles, tidying the place up, and remaining busy in the hopes that his late hours might lure in one more customer, maybe one who went to light their candles in the evening and found one burnt out¡­ but that didn¡¯t hang quite right on Algus.

    Even if the tiny market district that housed the candle shop was far from the worst neighborhood in Lowrun, the streets were quiet after dark. The only people still out were moving about quickly, eyes downcast as they hurried about whatever nighttime errand required them to risk themselves on the dangerous streets of the city. There was no chance someone would risk the nighttime streets for just a candle, and it was all too likely the wrong type of person would find their way into the shop instead, safe in the knowledge that commotion would draw little attention in the darkness.

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    In fact, Allana admitted to herself, that was how she¡¯d go about this contract if it was up to her. Wait until it was late, stride into the storefront, pretend she was looking to buy until she got the chance to sink a blade into him, then bolt. Easy as sin. But Geoffrey didn¡¯t do that. He insisted on watching and studying the old chandler instead, as if there was some information to be gained from how Algus ran his business.

    Finally, it clicked.

    ¡°Option three¡­¡± Allana whispered to herself, her lip stretching in a grin. ¡°Algus Heggen isn¡¯t a chandler, or at least not just a chandler. He¡¯s involved in some other trade, something illicit enough that he needs to hide behind a front like this candle shop. That¡¯s why he stays open with no customers. That¡¯s how he ended up getting a hit put out on him, and that¡¯s why he stays open this late. But what is it exactly?¡± There weren¡¯t many trades that were truly illegal in Lowrun. Allana knew of a dozen drug dens and vice halls off the top of her head, and twice that many brothels catering to every kind of sexual desire she knew about.

    ¡°That¡¯s why Geoffrey wants to observe him,¡± she decided, nodding to herself. ¡°He wants to know what industry Algus is in before he does the deed, to make sure he¡¯s not taking an unnecessary risk. Rogue knows some forbidden drug or contraband would be much more well-guarded than a bunch of candles.¡± That settled, Allana rolled her eyes. ¡°But how does he expect to learn anything watching from all the way out here? It¡¯s been weeks, and I haven¡¯t seen crap, he¡¯s always got the damn curtains drawn!¡±

    The wraith girl squirmed in place, impatience finally spoiling the subtle veil her gift of stealth had made. ¡°I do still have a couple hours before Geoffrey checks in¡­¡± she mused. ¡°How great would it be if I had some actual information for him?¡±

    Allana tried to pretend she had carefully thought it out, came up with a plan, and now she was going to execute it efficiently, the way Geoffrey trained her to. But in reality, less than two minutes after she came to her conclusion about Algus Heggen, she was slipping silently off of her rooftop and approaching the door of his storefront.

    She had no way of knowing the mistake she was making. No one can reach a correct conclusion from an incorrect starting point, after all.

    #

    Algus looked up sharply at the sound of his door opening, suspicion writ plain on his face. The old man was seated behind a tall counter, his back bowed over something Allana couldn¡¯t see. He looked about as sour as his personality, skeletally thin, his pale skin spotted with age and pockmarked from the tiny burns inherent to his trade. His face seemed stretched too tight around his skull, emphasizing his many sharp edges, and his teeth were bright yellow when he spoke.

    ¡°What do you want, girl?¡± he asked, his voice wavering with age but aggressive nonetheless.

    Allana blinked at him in surprise, trying her hardest to stay casual. ¡°Um¡­ candles?¡± she replied, as if the answer should¡¯ve been obvious. ¡°I closed the shutters for the night, but I was so distracted today, I forgot that my lights had all burnt out yesterday!¡± She peered around, as if just noticing that she was the only person in the shop. ¡°Oh¡­ you are still open, right? I saw your lights on¡­¡±

    The old man sighed in irritation, and Allana relaxed a little as the suspicion fell off his features. ¡°Yes, yes I am. One moment.¡±

    Algus slowly lifted his arms up, and Allana drew in a little breath when she saw the thick red liquid clinging to them. For a moment, they looked to be soaked in blood, but the shade rapidly brightened in the cool air of the shop, and she realized that they were covered in dripping crimson wax.

    The man lifted his hands up to his face and grunted slightly as he flexed his fingers. Dried wax peeled and curled from the motion, and he shook off his hands then clapped them against each other to dust them off. The dried wax fell back into the vat between his legs. ¡°Sorry,¡± he grunted, sounding anything but apologetic. ¡°I make my best pieces at night.¡±

    ¡°Oh, do you have an Artisan gift?¡± Allana asked, a politely interested smile on her face. Artisan gifts were only granted to the most dedicated craftspeople¨Cfor Algus to have one meant that, regardless of any front, he was a true tradesman too.

    ¡°Aye,¡± he said simply. With another grunt of effort, he stood up, and came out from around the counter. ¡°Right then, what do you need? I got some beeswax ones over there.¡± He gestured brusquely at a series of off-white, cylindrical candles of various thicknesses. ¡°They¡¯re a little pricey, but they burn bright and clean. A good sized one could last you a while.¡±

    ¡°Uhm¡­ I¡¯m sorry sir, but I don¡¯t think I have the money for that,¡± Allana lied cleanly. She didn¡¯t understand why the man was bothering to try to pitch to her. If he was open this late as a cover, as she suspected, he should want her out the door as quickly as possible. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I had these lavender candles that smelled so nicely¡­¡±

    Algus snorted. ¡°Lavender. I bet the smoke they gave off was¡­¡± The chandler trailed off, his gaze fixed off to one side. Allana followed his gaze to one of the lit candles along the top shelves of the little shop, which provided the place with its dim, wavering light. One of them stuck out¨Cbrilliant blue, it had odd symbols she couldn¡¯t make out traced along it in bright red. The same color as the wax he was working in his vat.

    Algus¡¯s eyes shot back to Allana, suspicion lighting up on his face once again. ¡°Who are you, girl?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Allana blinked in surprise. ¡°I told you, I''m just looking to buy a candle.¡±

    ¡°Lie.¡± The old man¡¯s voice growled. He waved his hand to one side, and a trio of candles near the counter lit up. Their wax was black and brown and red, and made Allana think of dried blood. The light shining from them was a deep, lurid scarlet.

    Instantly, Allana sagged in place, suddenly exhausted. She knew the feeling¨Csomething had drained her stamina, the same way overusing her stealth abilities would. She lifted an arm, but it felt sluggish, weak. Had her strength or speed been drained too?

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m¡­¡±

    Algus wasn¡¯t paying attention to her mumbled protests, his skeletal face livid with anger. ¡°You picked the wrong man to rob, girl.¡± He gestured again at those odd candles, an evil grimace splitting his face. ¡°You like my little beauties? Cursed candles, just the thing to handle little shits like you.¡±

    Allana mumbled something in response, but even her thoughts felt sluggish in the scarlet light of those candles.

    ¡°A girl like you, you¡¯ll be just the thing to make another candle.¡± Algus made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan of satisfaction. His eyes were bloodshot in the red light as they locked onto her. ¡°You¡¯ll make beautiful tallow.¡±

    Allana had made a mistake. A bad one. She knew that the gift of the Artisan allowed for the creation of magical items, but she had never seen anything like Heggen¡¯s cursed candles. She could barely think, much less move, and the cadaverous old man was ambling towards her, his long, red-stained fingers reaching out lecherously¡­

    That motion finally gave Allana enough of a surge of adrenaline to push against the vacant emptiness left behind by the candles. She groaned¨Cand sagged to one side abruptly. She struck a table lined with simple tallow candles in a variety of colors, and they toppled off of it a chain reaction. Most fell to the floor¨Cbut one struck a display shelf, and several lit candles fell off of it, towards the pile of flammable wax and tapers.

    Algus spun towards the mess, shouting ¡°No!¡± He flung his hands out in what looked like futile grasping gestures, and the lit candles snuffed out in midair, their flames evidently suppressed by the chandler.

    Still, the distraction did its job. Allana managed to shamble to the door while Algus was preventing his shop from burning down. The second she stumbled into the cool darkness outside the shop, the enervating effects of the candles vanished, restoring her strength, speed, and stamina.

    She drew a blurring veil around her from her gift of stealth, the strongest she could make while running, and ignored the twinge of a focus headache as she fled into the night, not risking a single look back at the murderous candlemaker and his cursed candles.

 Chapter 29 - Allana

    Allana jumped as someone put two tankards down at her table and sat down across from her. She had let herself be distracted by her anxiety and self-recrimination, to the point that she hadn¡¯t even noticed Seo approaching her. Concern was writ large on the androgynous boy¡¯s heart-shaped face. He knew as well as she did that even in a place as hypothetically safe as the Blackened Claw, that level of distraction was dangerous.

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s definitely the first time I¡¯ve ever surprised you,¡± he told her with a hint of worry. ¡°While I¡¯d like to claim credit for getting more stealthy, I¡¯m pretty sure something¡¯s wrong with you.¡±

    Allana accepted the drink, losing herself in a long gulp. Seo arched an eyebrow without comment, and took a more delicate sip from his own tankard. It was bloom mead, a drink the pair had taken to in the weeks since they first met. Like the whiskey they had shared their first night together, the mead was partially made with magical reagents. In this case, petals from the intoxicating stumblebloom were steeped in the alcohol to give it a punch even Allana¡¯s boosted resilience couldn¡¯t ignore.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Allana admitted, her voice shaky. She took another deliberate gulp of the mead, and Seo¡¯s expression got more surprised at her admitting something was wrong.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Seo asked. He kept his voice low, knowing Allana had the awareness to hear him, while the noise of the bar would cover up the question for any eavesdroppers.

    ¡°I¡­ I just¡­¡± Allana shook her head firmly. Her eyes stayed down, focused on her drink rather than meeting Seo¡¯s gaze. The fingers of one hand started absently toying with one of the bangles on her opposite wrist, spinning a little clay charm back and forth. ¡°I had a close call, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°A close call,¡± Seo echoed. ¡°Pursuing your¡­ whatever it is you do?¡±

    Seo and Allana had come to enjoy each other¡¯s company enough that they spent time together most evenings, whenever she didn¡¯t have a commitment to Geoffrey. She found the boy to be sincere in a way she had rarely seen from those born and raised in Emeston¡¯s slums¨Cand he made her laugh. She liked him. But she had still avoided the topic of what exactly she did with Geoffrey. She trusted Seo more than most, and was fairly confident he wouldn¡¯t sell her out to Telik, but she had been disappointed before.

    Besides, she had to admit to herself that she simply didn¡¯t want to see the look on Seo¡¯s face when she told him she was an apprentice assassin.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Allana replied simply instead. Her traitorous fingers kept fidgeting, spinning one of her bracelets.

    ¡°Okay...¡± Seo drew out the word. ¡°How can I help?¡±

    Allana blinked in surprise, and her gaze finally darted up to meet Seo¡¯s blood red eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ I¡­¡± Allana stumbled over her words, shocked at the mere offer. ¡°I-It¡¯s dangerous!¡± she finally managed. ¡°Why would you want to help?¡±

    Seo shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I like you. You''re scared, and knowing you I think it¡¯s for a good reason. So I want to help you.¡± He explained his emotions simply, like he was justifying the sky being blue. As if the words should¡¯ve been obvious, despite how little sense they made.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that easy!¡¯ Allana insisted. She could feel her cheeks starting to burn from the earnest explanation, and she wished dearly that she could just pull a veil up then and there. What was wrong with this kid? This wasn¡¯t how people communicate! Why would he just want to help her for nothing?

    ¡°Yeah, it is,¡± Seo said simply. ¡°Easy isn¡¯t the same as simple, but there it is.¡± The boy¡¯s lips tugged up at one corner, and he added, ¡°Does it help if I remind you how we met? I¡¯m pretty sure I owe you one.¡±

    Despite herself, Allana couldn¡¯t fight off the smile the boy¡¯s words wrung out of her, and she eventually looked up at him. Seo was staring at her with that same simple, sincere grin, his eyes open and honest. When they had met, Allana couldn¡¯t have imagined blood red eyes looking cute, but Seo managed to make their imposing color just part of his charm.

    She wasn¡¯t sure how he did that, anymore than she was sure how he managed to calm her down the way he did. Slowly, Allana let out a sigh, feeling a tension she had carried since her escape from Algus¡¯s shop slip away.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she told him. Then she started to explain.

    #

    ¡°Cool.¡±

    Allana shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not cool!¡±

    Seo tilted his own. ¡°Are you sure? It seems pretty cool.¡± The boy held up one hand, lifting fingers to punctuate his point as he spoke. ¡°You¡¯re an apprentice assassin, learning from a wealthy and mysterious master with his own agenda, trying to get revenge on a crimelord, and you got threatened by a murderous old man who is apparently turning people into candles.¡±

    Allana lifted her hands in a motion of frustration, starting to respond sharply¨Cbut her mouth only worked silently a few times before she sat back with a huff. ¡°Fine,¡± she admitted, ¡°it¡¯s a little cool.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like something out of an over-wrought novel!¡± Seo told her with a laugh. ¡°Are you sure Geoffrey isn¡¯t secretly your father or something? That feels like the next plot twist.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes. ¡°No. No, he definitely isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Are you suuure? Because¨C¡±

    ¡°Telik killed my father fifteen years ago when he couldn¡¯t cover his gambling debts.¡±

    ¡°Well¨C¡±

    ¡°In front of me.¡±

    Seo winced. ¡°Yeah, okay. It¡¯s a little unlikely, then.¡±

    ¡°You think?¡±

    ¡°So what now?¡± Seo asked, pushing past the point

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­¡± Allana trailed off. She hadn¡¯t thought that far ahead yet. ¡°I guess I¡¯ve got to tell Geoffrey. And hope he doesn¡¯t just throw me out.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Seo,¡± Allana replied with another roll of her eyes. ¡°It changes everything. Algus clearly knew someone was after him, even before I showed up. Now he¡¯ll be on his guard. That changes the situation¨Ca wary, dangerous gifted with unknown abilities is a very different target than a cranky old cuss who pissed off a rich customer. If Geoffrey doesn¡¯t know that Algus is ready for him, it could get him killed. And then¡­ I just have to figure out how to make things right.¡±

    Seo nodded thoughtfully as Allana talked. Even once she was done, he stayed quiet, his eyes going distant, as if focusing on something else.

    Of course. She had told him way too much, and he was trying to figure out how to get out of this now. He was probably afraid of her! And what would Geoffrey say? Why had she told him so much?

    ¡°Seo, look¨C¡±

    ¡°What if we killed him?¡±

    Allana blinked. ¡°What did you just say?¡±

    ¡°I mean, he''s still just an old guy. At least one of his gifts is just candlemaking, and even if we don¡¯t know what his other gift is, it¡¯s gotta be tied to those candles. Now that we know about them, we can handle them. Your master can¡¯t get too mad if you solve the problem, right?¡±

    ¡°But¡­ why would you want to do that?¡± Allana waved a hand at Seo. Between his lithe frame, his gentle eyes, and his heart-shaped face, which even showed evidence of a few simple cosmetics, the boy was no one¡¯s idea of intimidating. ¡°No offense, but you don¡¯t seem like much of a killer, Seo.¡±

    Seo frowned at her. His next words were slow, deliberate, as if he was carefully considering each before he spoke. ¡°From the sounds of it, neither did Geoffrey.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but¨C¡±

    ¡°Allana.¡± A change seemed to come over Seo, gradually. His voice lacked any emotion, his back straightened, and he held her gaze steadily. Suddenly, it seemed like there was nothing sweet or cute about his eyes. They were hard pools of red, like fresh viscera. ¡°This won¡¯t be the first man to die because of me. And if this guy really is kidnapping people to turn them into cursed candles or something, I¡¯m not exactly going to lose sleep over it.¡±

    Allan furrowed her brow as she studied the boy. She really knew very little about him¨Cvery little that was reliable, at least. He had told her a story the night they met about his parents being traders and his attempts to make something of himself, but Allana knew a lie when she heard one. Rogue, she didn¡¯t even know his second gift. He was sharp enough, and she had never seen him use any powers besides his evocations, but she suspected his second gift must be something truly dark, for it to be worth hiding.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    But he had also been a friend when she didn¡¯t really have any. He had drunk with her, spent time with her, slept in her apartment. She was sure he wasn¡¯t just an informant Telik had placed on her, even if she had considered it. Seo simply had a level of depth, of genuineness, that she hadn¡¯t encountered anywhere else in Lowrun, except possibly glimpsed in the murky depths of Geoffrey.

    Her violet eyes met his crimson gaze as she quietly asked, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°To help a friend.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit. Tell me the truth.¡±

    Seo shrugged helplessly, and the cool, hard young man of a moment before turned back into a gentle boy before her eyes. ¡°That is the truth. I don¡¯t know how else to say it, Allana. Helping a friend rid the world of an evil man¡­ it just seems like the right thing to do.¡±

    ¡°Evil. Right. Those are simple words,¡± Allana replied bitterly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve had enough simple in your life,¡± Seo countered.

    Allan blew out a breath and sat back, a small grin emerging on her face. ¡°Are you claiming to be simple?¡±

    Seo chuckled, ¡°Maybe not. But this is. I promise.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Allana relented. ¡°Let¡¯s say I believe you, and that I agree with your plan.¡±

    Seo''s face lit up, and Allana promptly held up a finger. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I actually do, on either front. But for the sake of the conversation, let¡¯s say I do. How would you handle those candles?¡±

    ¡°Easy. You said he has big windows in the front of his shop, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°And the cursed candles, they were behind the counter? And they were distinctive right, all black and red and ominous?¡±

    Allan arched an eyebrow, her eyes slowly shifting from Seo¡¯s red eyes to the black leather ensemble he was wearing.

    ¡°I pull it off,¡± Seo said with a sniff.

    ¡°You do,¡± Allana agreed, trying to make the words sound reluctant. ¡°And yes, they were. So what?¡±

    ¡°If I peek in the window, I can knock them off the shelf with a little force push,¡± Seo explained, ¡°then you can be on him before he sets them back up.¡±

    Allana frowned thoughtfully. As plans went, it wasn¡¯t terrible, but¡­ ¡°What if he has other candles? Ones I don¡¯t know about?¡±

    ¡°You think he does?¡±

    Allana chewed her tongue while she considered the idea. ¡°Maybe. Probably, even.¡± She shook her head slowly. ¡°No, there¡¯s just too much that can go wrong.¡±

    ¡°But what if he doesn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Then everything goes great. But if he does, I die, and you might too. We don¡¯t know what sort of cursed candles he has¨Cmaybe another could give him some sort of fire or explosive power.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ I¡¯ve got nothing.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Allana¡¯s mouth lifted at one corner. ¡°Fortunately, I do.¡±

    #

    Allana crouched in the alley across from the chandler¡¯s house. Behind her was the series of carefully arranged crates that formed a hidden path up to her usual perch, but she had stayed on the ground this time.

    She had one of her conjured daggers in hand, the blade crusted in the most dangerous poison she could produce. Similarly, she was wrapped in the most undetectable veil she could make. Her head pounded with the focus cost of the ability. The alleyway, though dark, didn¡¯t have the deep shadows that could improve her veil, and she was still feeling the focus cost of her earlier vigil. She knew she could only maintain the ability for minutes, but if her plan worked, minutes would be all she needed.

    ¡°The four P¡¯s,¡± Geoffrey had told her, ¡°are the keys to being successful as an assassin.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s that easy?¡± Allana had responded tartly. ¡°I just need to remember four words and I can be as scary as you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Geoffrey responded with a tolerant frown, ¡°but they might keep you from getting yourself killed on your first job, so pay attention anyways.¡±

    Patience had paid off. Allana knew the layout of Algus¡¯s shop, she knew where he slept, where he kept his nights, and how he managed the little showroom she had entered in the front of his building. She had a good grasp of his gifts, and therefore his limits.

    As Seo had pointed out, the old man certainly had the gift of the chandler, but he couldn¡¯t move around his candles physically with an ability, or he would¡¯ve caught the shelf Allana had knocked over in her exit. Seo seemed fairly familiar with gifts of the Artisan archetype, and assured her that sort of manipulation was specific to Initiate level gifts, meaning that despite his advanced age, Algus was only an Apprentice. That suggested a significant limit to his attributes. They wouldn¡¯t need to contend with high level awareness or resilience.

    Allana didn¡¯t know as much as she¡¯d like about the chandler¡¯s second gift or its limits, but it was clearly tied in some way to his candles, as he had not even tried to chase her when she fled. Her successful escape revealed another crucial flaw in the old chandler. His shop was filled with tallow, wax, wicks, and a dozen other extremely combustible components. When Allana toppled a table of his candles, he had scurried to ensure they didn¡¯t ignite the entire room, which meant he had limited precautions in the case of a fire.

    Perhaps the gift of fire would¡¯ve been his choice once he made Initiate. It didn¡¯t matter, since he wouldn¡¯t survive the night.

    Planning came next. With everything that had been revealed by her patience, putting a plan together had been easy enough¨CSeo¡¯s suggestion had been the missing piece she needed to complete the puzzle.

    Now she had perception covered too¨Cher location allowed her to see both the main entrance to the shop and the side door that emerged into the alley across from her. She was placed to move as soon as Algus came out of either door, as well as to see Seo approach the shop.

    As planned, the wraith boy walked down the street with a brisk stride, the image of a busy passerby. Rare, at this time of night, in this neighborhood, but his stride warned anyone watching that he should be left alone. Only dangerous men would be moving like that this late.

    Which, Allana reflected, was more accurate than she expected from the cute, charming wraith boy she had met weeks before.

    As he approached Algus¡¯s storefront, Seo slowed to a stop. He looked briskly about, and Allana winced. He may be dangerous, but he was still new at this, and if anyone was watching, there was little explanation for his suspicious behavior.

    But no one interrupted him as he leaned closer to the windows, cupping both hands over his eyes and peeking between the curtains in the showroom.

    Then he stood there.

    And stood there.

    And stood there.

    It was several minutes before there was a crash inside the shop, by which time Allana was wincing from the worst focus headache she¡¯d ever had. Seo turned to move away, and Allana¡¯s awareness, boosted by her gift of stealth, was sufficient to see the wraith boy stagger for a moment. What could only be blood dripped from one hand, and for a moment, she thought he had been ensnared by one of Algus¡¯s tricks. Then he started moving again, clutching one of his arms as he did.

    Gift of math my ass, Allana thought.

    Seo slipped into the alley on the other side of the building from Allana, where they had prepared a hiding place for him. He didn¡¯t know where she was, only that he was to stay there until she showed up, or until an hour had passed.

    Within moments, the incandescent flickering of flames was visible even through Algus¡¯s thick curtains, as the candles Seo had knocked over quickly caught fire. Then there was another crash, and one of the large windows suddenly cracked, then shattered, as if hit by an invisible projectile.

    What is he doing!?

    Allana didn¡¯t have time to second guess the boy¨Cwith the window broken, air rushed into the shop and smoke poured out. The light of the flames got brighter, and in the distance, Allana heard a bell starting to toll. The city watch of Emeston may have been as deeply corrupt as the rest of the city¡¯s government, but they were well equipped to handle two things: fire and riots. Both could spread through Lowrun in a matter of hours, and both required rapid responses to control.

    That didn¡¯t change anything about the plan, but it made her window for action that much more delicate.

    Allana¡¯s fingers tightened on her dagger as she crouched in place, hidden by her veil, fighting through the pain of her rapidly draining focus to watch for Algus. Finally, the chandler, having evidently given up on saving his shop, rushed out of the side door, and it was time for the last P: performance.

    Concealed by her magic as she was, even had anyone been watching for her, they would¡¯ve seen only a brief ripple in the air as Allana dashed across the street. The smoke pouring out of the burning shop was heavy enough that not even that was visible, however, and Algus never saw her coming. He was still in the heavy shadows of the alley way, mere feet from the door, when Allana reached him, proximity shattering her veil even as she struck.

    [Sneak Attack] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Can only be used on targets unaware of your location. Lesser stamina cost.

    The chandler lifted his hands in a futile gesture, his weathered face twisted in fear and fury, and then her knife sank into his throat. Allana didn¡¯t hesitate to twist the dagger, tearing the wound wider even as she stepped to the side. The spray of blood from Algus¡¯s cut throat splashed onto the wall instead of her. Enough resilience could have allowed him to survive even that wound¨Cbut already, her poison was mixing with his blood, the magical toxin attacking and leeching his resilience.

    Allana didn¡¯t hesitate. People were pouring out of nearby homes and businesses, including the building she had used as her perch, and her window for escape was closing to mere moments. The pain nearly blinded her as she pulled up another veil, but Telik had driven her hard over the years, and she pushed through the ache of her low focus.

    The veil was weaker this time, but the smoke had become thick enough in the street that it didn¡¯t matter. No one noticed her run back across the street, ducking into the same alley Seo had, and after a couple turns, she was out of the light of Algus¡¯s burning storefront.

    Allana relaxed, panting, as she let her veil vanish, and she fell to her knees on the dirty cobbles of the alley, the fatigue overwhelming. She had never felt her focus drained this low before¡­

    ¡°Allana!¡± Seo¡¯s hand on her shoulder shook her out of a daze she didn¡¯t realize she had fallen into. ¡°We have to go!¡±

    How long had they been there? Allana blinked, forcing herself to think through the muddled pain of her exhausted focus, but it only made the pain worse. Why did they need to leave? What was going on?

    ¡°Allana!¡± Seo hissed, panicking. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming!¡±

    She felt his hand loosen on his shoulder, and still, she couldn¡¯t get her body to listen to her thoughts. He should just run, Allana found herself thinking. He can still get away.

    The wraith boy released her shoulder¨Cbut he didn¡¯t run. Allana watched helplessly through half-lidded eyes as Seo stepped in front of her, his slender frame set in a confrontational stance.

    ¡°I think you¡¯ve gone far enough,¡± a smooth, confident voice said. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me.¡±

 Chapter 30 - Tenebres

    Tenebres frowned at his reflection in the polished glass of the storefront window of Algus¡¯s Fine Candleworks. Sometimes, when he had gone long enough without catching sight of himself, he forgot how different he looked since Kellen¡¯s failed ritual.

    His skin, naturally a deep golden tan, now had a permanent gray pallor that made him look recently dead. His lustrous brown hair had been bleached bone white, while his once green eyes had taken on the same red hue as a fresh pool of blood. By comparison, the tapered points of his ears sticking through his hair were a minor detail at best. After everything that had happened, it had felt good to break away from being himself, to spend some time as Seo, just another homeless wraith in the slums of Lowrun.

    He wasn''t Seo though, whatever he wanted to pretend.

    Tenebres shook his head to clear it. He had to focus. This was no time to get distracted.

    He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. He knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to catch sight of Allana anyways. Instead, he focused his eyes past his reflection, through a gap between the drawn curtains and into the darkened shop on the other side of the glass. The chandler was nowhere to be seen, but there were still a few candles lit in the showroom, exuding a gentle glow. Shadows danced with the flickering light, constantly tricking Tenebres into thinking there was movement in the shop.

    He blew out a breath, reaching for the mystical well of power he had gained weeks before, when he passed the Mage¡¯s exam and gained the gift of the evoker.

    [Gift of the Evoker]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 7%

    Advance your theoretical and practical knowledge of evocation

    Abilities:

    [Novice Evocations] - Spell - Gain access to Novice level evocations, utilizing your mystical well as a resource. Spells require study in order to learn.

    [Arcane Mind] - Boon - Lesser boost to coordination, knowledge, and focus.

    Unlike other gifted, those blessed by the Mage didn¡¯t have multiple discrete abilities. Instead, they simply gained access to the spells of each level. For evocation, the school of magic dedicated to the manipulation of energy, that mostly meant simple force spells, straight-forward applications of kinetic energy.

    As Seo, Tenebres had told Allana that his fine control of the magical abilities was an augment produced by the gift of mathematics. In truth, his talent for evocation was simply a product of his mind. The equations by which magic and other energies were converted to force were complex by any standard, even at Novice level, but they came easily to Tenebres, enough so that he was able to make his spells more efficient and effective than most Novice evokers.

    Still, he was finding his limits with the task Allana had given him. Projecting force from an origin point far away from himself was difficult. The base spell was simple enough¨Che had used it the night he had met Allana to strike one of the bullying thugs from behind¨Cbut he had never tried to do it from so far away before. He saw the sconce he was aiming for wobble a couple times, but Algus was clearly aware of the flammability of his business and had taken steps to secure the few lights he left burning so late.

    Tenebres gritted his teeth, accepting that he was going to need a little extra to get the job done. Fortunately, the augment provided by his gift of the void interacting with the gift of the evoker should be enough to do the deed, even if it would be somewhat unpleasant.

    [Blood Magic] - Void, Evoker - Passive - You may take damage in order to enhance the power of your evocation spells.

    Immediately, a searing pain shot up Tenebres¡¯s arm, the flesh opening as if a finely honed knife had been dragged along his skin. But the extra power the pain brought with it strengthened the force of his next spell, and the projection was enough to knock one of the wide candles free from its perch. It landed on a table of more display pieces, and quickly one, then another, then the whole table, caught aflame.

    [Gift of the Evoker] experienced gained

    Experience: 13%

    Tenebres exhaled, relieved at his success, then promptly hurried away, ducking into the alley Allana had indicated for him. As promised, a hiding spot awaited him, a cobbled together bunch of crates and sailcloth that looked like a simple pile of junk. If Allana hadn¡¯t instructed him so clearly, he never would¡¯ve noticed the way one of the hanging pieces of tarp could be swept aside so that he could duck into a hollow in the center of the pile.

    He watched from a small hole in the front of his hiding place as the light of the flames began to flicker behind the shop''s curtains. But it wasn¡¯t enough. The dark streets stayed quiet even as the flames slowly grew brighter¨Cmuch more slowly than he and Allana had planned.

    Tenebres looked nervously from the chandler¡¯s storefront to the two buildings next to it. One was a simple residence designed for three separate families, well-off by Lowrun standards, to dwell in, while the other was a cobbler¡¯s shop with an upstairs apartment, similar to Algus¡¯s own storefront. Each was made of the same wood as the candleworks, and each would go up in flames just as fast if the fire began to spread.

    Tenebres frowned. Helping Allana to kill the murderous chandler was one thing, but the other buildings had nothing to do with this business. He couldn¡¯t just let a whole block burn to kill one man.

    More pain danced up his other arm as he drew on his blood magic again. The spell to project a bolt of kinetic energy directly in front of him was far easier than the one he had used to start the fire, but he needed the extra strength to make sure he could reach the storefront.

    Fortunately, given how tidy his spellwork was, Tenebres¡¯s mystical well was still more than half-full even after his multiple attempts to topple a candle. He had more than enough to fuel the simple bolt of force he shot from his hiding place, and the power of his blood gave it the strength to shatter the glass window he had looked through earlier.

    Immediately, air filled the room, fanning the flames. The entire building promptly caught aflame even as smoke billowed out through the window. Between the sound, light, and smell, people up and down the street began emerging to investigate the burning shop, and in the distance, he could hear the brassy ring of alarm bells started tolling.

    With a sigh, Tenebres relaxed back in his little hidey-hole. The light of the fire didn¡¯t quite penetrate the shadows of the alley he was hiding in, and he was able to watch as people began trying to contain the flames¨Cincluding the residents of the two buildings flanking the candleworks. No one was going to die in bed as the flames spread.

    Tenebres waited for what seemed an hour, but it couldn¡¯t have been more than a few minutes before an indistinct shape moving down the alley resolved into the shape of Allana. She wasn¡¯t moving with her usual grace, staggering awkwardly as she fled down the alley at what could only be called a rapid shamble. She hadn¡¯t even stopped to make sure he was following her.

    Brow furrowed in concern, Tenebres climbed out of the pile of trash and ran after her. Given her current speed, it wasn¡¯t too hard to catch up, but only moments after he got to her, Allana fell to her knees, wavering in place.

    Tenebres placed a hand on her shoulder, looking nervously behind them as he gently shook her. ¡°Allana,¡± he hissed, ¡°we have to go!¡±

    The girl didn¡¯t move, besides blinking and sluggishly turning her head to look at him.

    Down the alley, Tenebres heard the distinct sound of a person walking towards them.

    ¡°Allana! Someone¡¯s coming!¡±

    Still, the girl didn¡¯t move. Tenebres looked, worried, from the girl to what was now clearly a man confidently approaching them. He knew he could run, that it was the smart thing to do. It was unlikely anyone had noticed him looking into Algus¡¯s window, and he could vanish into the busy crowd around the fire easily enough.

    All he had to do was leave his new friend to an uncertain fate.

    Tenebres recalled his own words, spoken casually to her earlier that night. He had called her his friend, even as he lied about who he was, but the claim had been genuine. In their brief time together, a real bond had begun to form between him and the secretive, blunt wraith girl, and Tenebres would rather die himself than leave her to an uncertain fate.

    He swallowed, his throat tight, then walked around to stand in front of Allana, doing everything possible to make his skinny, meager frame intimidating. Internally, he shifted his focus to the abruptly sharp presence of the gift of the void. Just as it had on the road to Emeston, the power seemed to know he was considering using it, and it seemed to bay in his chest, begging to be released.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Noting his stance, the approaching shape stopped, his hand coming to rest at his belt. ¡°I think you¡¯ve gone far enough,¡± he claimed, blithely arrogant. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me.¡±

    Tenebres was readying to use the power of the void, just as he had to kill Kellen and the cult weeks before, when Allana croaked out a weak protest. ¡°No. It¡¯s okay, Seo.¡±

    ¡°¡®Okay¡¯ is a wild overstatement at the moment, actually,¡± the stranger said. ¡°But at the very least, she¡¯s right that I¡¯m not here to hurt either of you.¡±

    The man approached, one hand outstretched, and Allana staggered to her feet with Tenebres¡¯s assistance. Up close, the man was far less intimidating. He had a powerful build, but was dressed in elaborate silken garments rather than the dark, close-fitting clothes Tenebres and Allana wore. His most notable feature was the long mane of bushy blonde hair that hung halfway down his back. He didn¡¯t even seem to be armed, but Tenebres knew better than most that with gifted, that impression was never necessarily true.

    The stranger gave Allana an inquisitive glance, one golden eyebrow arched as his eyes flicked from her to Tenebres. Allana, still exhausted, shrugged an idle shoulder and averted her eyes.

    Watching the exchange, Tenebres quickly realized the two knew each other. ¡°I¡¯m starting to feel like I¡¯m behind on what¡¯s happening right now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll say. And you¡¯re not alone on that front.¡± The mysterious man turned a glare on Allana as he spoke. ¡°But that¡¯ll have to wait. You were sloppy, Allana¨Cthere¡¯s every chance someone will find his body before we can get away.¡±

    ¡°His body? He¡¯s dead then?¡± Allana asked wearily.

    ¡°Definitively. I made sure of that.¡±

    Tenebres narrowed his eyes at the man¡¯s words, and came to the conclusion that he was far from the dandy that he pretended to be. As someone who had been relying on similar camouflage since he first arrived in Emeston, it wasn¡¯t hard to spot the signs.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the one who¡¯s been training Allana, right? Geoffrey?¡± Tenebres asked suspiciously.

    Allana winced, and the man¡¯s glare turned onto Tenebres. ¡°Just how much did she tell- Yes. Yes I am.¡± The man turned away, the motion made abrupt by his anger. ¡°We need to go. We can all discuss this Rogue-damned disaster once we get back to my place. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± Tenebres protested immediately.

    ¡°Seo,¡± Allana¡¯s voice was softer than usual. She gave him a pleading look, her violet eyes immeasurably weary. ¡°Please, just come with us. It¡¯ll be okay.¡± She turned her own glare on the man who had found them, though it was feeble compared to his imperious look. ¡°Right, Geoffrey?¡±

    The older assassin rolled his eyes. ¡°Yes, yes, fine. But we need to go, now!¡±

    Tenebres wavered in place, but as little as he wanted to go with this duplicitous and dangerous man, he wanted to leave Allana alone with him even less. Geoffrey was clearly angry, but as no small part of his anger was apparently due to how much Allana had told her new friend, Tenebres couldn¡¯t just leave her to face that anger by herself.

    Worst case scenario, he could always pull out a fiend. He¡¯d have to leave the city afterwards, but at least then he could keep Allana safe.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he relented. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    #

    Geoffrey briskly led the two through the streets, in the opposite direction of the burning candle shop and the still ringing alarm bells. They quickly left the alleys and took to the main avenues instead, but the guard patrols and other passerby rushing by towards the blaze barely spared them a glance. Geoffrey¡¯s attire clearly indicated his wealth, which in Emeston placed him well above suspicion for something as mundane as a fire at a candlemaker¡¯s shop. Tenebres and Allana stuck to his shadow.

    They had only gone a few blocks before Allana¡¯s eyes started to clear up again, her steps becoming more sure. ¡°I have a focus boon,¡± she explained quietly, noticing Tenebres¡¯s surprise. ¡°I ran myself dry in all of that, but it recovers pretty quickly.¡±

    ¡°Quiet, both of you,¡± Geoffrey snapped.

    Soon enough, they reached a small building Tenebres could only assume to be Geoffrey¡¯s home. Though only slightly nicer than the slums surrounding it, it boasted a fence and a small courtyard. The interior proved to be far more comfortably appointed, and Tenebres soon found himself in Geoffrey¡¯s office, trying to avoid the man¡¯s glare while Allana explained the events leading up to their murder of Algus, the candlemaker.

    ¡°You did adequately, I suppose.¡± Geoffrey looked between Allana and Tenebres. ¡°A bit¡­ loud, but clean enough.¡±

    ¡°About that¡­¡± Allana turned a suspicious look on Tenebres. ¡°What were you thinking Seo, breaking the windows like that?¡±

    Tenebres frowned and rubbed his bicep bashfully. ¡°Uhm¡­ well, with how it was burning, I thought no one else might notice it until it had spread to the other buildings.¡±

    ¡°That was the point!¡± Allana insisted. ¡°With all the smoke and people rushing around, it was that much harder for me to get to him without getting seen!¡±

    ¡°But¡­ look, if it wasn¡¯t caught early, it could¡¯ve spread through that whole block! I¡¯m not gonna burn down a whole neighborhood to cover up you killing one man!¡±

    Geoffrey held up a hand to cut off the arguing. ¡°Both of you, stop. Seo is right, Allana. Even if it hadn¡¯t gotten that bad, half a dozen businesses burning down would get a lot more attention put on it than one man¡¯s already hazardous shop.¡±

    Seo turned a victorious grin on Allana, but Geoffrey interrupted it as well. ¡°That is not to say what happened was acceptable. If you had waited and spoken to Allana, you could¡¯ve broken the windows as you made your escape¨Cthe outcry would¡¯ve been a perfect distraction.¡±

    Seo rolled his red eyes. ¡°Sorry I¡¯m not quite used to thinking like an assassin.¡±

    ¡°Which brings us to my next question,¡± Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. ¡°If you¡¯re not an assassin, which I think we all agree is certainly the case, why are you assassinating people?¡±

    Tenebres flushed at the question. Under Geoffrey¡¯s glare, the carefully reasoned arguments he had explained to Allana seemed childish. ¡°Well¡­ my friend needed help.¡±

    ¡°Your friend. Needed. Help.¡± Geoffrey practically bit the words off, his eyes narrow.

    ¡°Well¡­ yeah.¡± The words sounded weak even as Tenebres spoke them, but he bulled through. ¡°And this Algus was a bad guy! You heard Allana, he was going to kill her!¡±

    ¡°Of course. He was using the gift of flesh to make cursed candles out of human tallow. That¡¯s the sort of secret that incentivizes one to kill in order to keep it.¡±

    Both Tenebres and Allana turned a baffled look on Geoffrey.

    ¡°You knew!?¡± Allana asked.

    ¡°Of course I did. Why else would I take a contract to kill a chandler, of all people?¡± Geoffrey explained calmly, as if it was the most rational thing in the world.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me!?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know, mayhaps because I thought you¡¯d do something rash?¡±

    Allana flailed her arms with a noise of frustration and sat back in her chair, unable to refute the point.

    ¡°What is the gift of flesh?¡± Tenebres asked into the silence. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that before.¡±

    Geoffrey shook his head and shot the boy an incredulous look. ¡°No. No more questions from you, not until I have some answers.¡±

    ¡°Answers?¡±

    ¡°Like, for example, ¡®who are you?¡¯¡±

    Tenebres furrowed his brow. ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m Seo. I met Allana¨C¡±

    ¡°When she saved you from Telik¡¯s thugs, yes, I¡¯m aware.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re aware?¡± Allana asked indignantly.

    Geoffrey gave her a flat look. ¡°You fought two known wards of the crime lord I¡¯ve spent months gathering information on, who you are supposed to be avoiding. Yes, I am aware of the incident, as well as your routine evenings together since.¡±

    It was Allana¡¯s turn to flush, though Tenebres gathered it was as much in anger as embarrassment. ¡°You¡¯ve been watching me?¡±

    ¡°Now, Allana, that wouldn¡¯t be a productive use of time. I¡¯ve just been keeping informed.¡±

    Allana narrowed her eyes, stewing on that. Seeing she was at least willing to stop interrupting for the moment, Geoffrey returned his gaze to Tenebres. ¡°Now to clarify my meaning, who are you, really? Where did you come from, why are you here?¡± He held up a finger before Tenebres could answer. ¡°And let me be clear, ¡®Seo.¡¯ I am not my apprentice. I do not want to hear any lies, and I promise you that you lack the skill and talent alike to do so successfully, especially to me.¡±

    Tenebres narrowed his eyes. He didn¡¯t like the man¡¯s tone¨Che had a way of making bold claims, and stating them as if they were simple facts, pushing the conversation into the pace he wanted. Tenebres might not have noticed it in the past, but his gift of the void had come with a not-insignificant charm boon, and he guessed that Geoffrey had a similar benefit.

    ¡°Why should I tell you?¡±

    Geoffrey sighed. ¡°I could say that otherwise, I¡¯d have to assume you¡¯re a plant by Telik or some other party and would need to deal with you accordingly.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡±

    Geoffrey held up a hand again, waiting for the two to stop their outbursts. ¡°But that seems unlikely to get me anywhere. Not only do you seem like someone who would be unmoved by threats, I suspect Allana would never forgive me if I killed you. So let me point out instead that you claim to be Allana¡¯s friend. I would like to believe that is true, but both she and I know you are hiding things, and the only way any of us can move forward is if that is no longer the case.¡±

    Tenebres chewed his bottom lip for a moment before replying, ¡°Are you going to claim you have no secrets then?¡±

    Geoffrey smiled gently. ¡°Fair enough, I suppose. How about this then? Tell us your story, the real thing, and not only will I give you what assistance I can with whatever actually brought you to this wretched boil of a city, but I will explain, to both you,¡± Geoffrey nodded to Allana, ¡°what Algus¡¯s gift was, where it came from, and what my interest in it was. Do we have a deal?¡±

    Tenebres frowned in thought. It was a risk, to be sure, but even discounting Geoffrey¡¯s threat (which seemed unwise), Tenebres knew that he owed Allana more than that. She had never pressured him to reveal the truth of his background, even though she knew he was lying. She deserved to know the truth, if Tenebres wanted to call himself her friend. And if Geoffrey¡¯s offer of help was real, then¡­ that could be a step forward in figuring out the truth of his dark gift.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll tell you everything.¡±

 Chapter 31 - Tenebres

    A few moments later, Geoffrey had a glass of amber liquid poured for each of them¨Cmagic-laced whiskey from one bottle for the master assassin and his apprentice, and weaker, mundane liquor from another bottle for Tenebres.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start¡­¡± Tenebres admitted.

    ¡°How about your name?¡± Allana prompted him gently.

    The wraith boy started a little. ¡°You¡­ you knew?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not exactly the first person to use a fake name in this city, Seo.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well¡­ okay.¡± He sighed, and admitted, ¡°My real name is Tenebres.¡±

    ¡°Tenebrous?¡± Geoffrey asked, arching an eyebrow. ¡°That sounds more made up, not less.¡±

    Tenebres shook his head. ¡°No. It¡¯s Tenebres, with an -es. My name isn¡¯t literally ¡®fancy darkness.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Just really, really close,¡± Allana chuckled.

    Tenebres gave her a flat look. ¡°Do you want my story or not? Because I¡¯m not gonna share if you¡¯re going to keep making fun of my perfectly normal name.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure, go ahead, Shadow Darkness.¡±

    Geoffrey rolled his eyes, but he didn¡¯t quite manage to hide his own amusement. ¡°Allana. Enough with the interruptions, please.¡±

    Allana pouted but took a small sip from her drink, gesturing for Tenebres to continue. The banter had, if nothing else, served to relax Tenebres a little bit, and he gave Allana a small smile as he launched into his story.

    ¡°Well, I really was born in the heartlands, I wasn¡¯t lying about that. Mostly, at least. It was a small village named Culles, in the deadlands. My father was a decent smith, and my mother knew a bit of herbalism, but neither of them ever even got their second gift. We still lived a comfortable life, though. My parents¡­ I don¡¯t know, they wanted for me to make something of myself, more than them. Hired a tutor and everything so that I could take a Mage or Professional exam when I was old enough for gifts.

    ¡°Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t quite work out that way. It was maybe three or four years ago when some people came through Culles. We had just suffered a monster attack, some big boar that rampaged through town before the hunters managed to put it down, and my family¡¯s house was one of the ones that got damaged in the fight. It wasn¡¯t impossible to fix up or anything, but it was enough that I think my parents got discouraged. And then these people showed up, promising safety and comfort and security to anyone who left the village to move into their compound.¡±

    ¡°Compound doesn¡¯t sound like a great word.¡± Allana observed.

    Geoffrey nodded. ¡°I daresay it wasn¡¯t. A cult, I assume?¡±

    Tenebres sighed. ¡°Yep. This man, Kellen, he had somehow made it to Initiate level, with the sort of gifts that let him actually fight pretty well. He got a few other battle-gifted together, and they organized this hidden little settlement. The whole thing was underground, and he claimed he could keep anyone living there safe from monster attacks. The hunters in Culles didn¡¯t like it much, but the chief had just gotten killed by the boar monster, and they were too busy trying to reorganize to argue much.

    ¡°Kellen just used that as further evidence that the town wasn¡¯t safe, and unfortunately, my parents ate it up. So, just like that, I ended up living in Kellen¡¯s little cult commune for the next three years. I watched as, bit by bit, my parents gave everything to Kellen and his people. Their money, their freedom, their¡­¡± Tenebres swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before he continued. ¡°At some point along the way, Kellen realized that I hadn¡¯t quite given in to his indoctrination the way everyone else had. I don¡¯t know why, I just couldn¡¯t go along with his ideas.¡±

    ¡°Ideas like what?¡± Geoffrey prompted. The man had leaned forward in interest.

    ¡°He said a lot of things. That the Realm had failed its people, that the Wastes were expanding, that no one could stop it but that he could help everyone survive in the new world when it came. Everyone was blind and dumb and useless except him and the people following him, that sort of stuff.¡±

    ¡°And you disagreed?¡±

    ¡°Of course I did.¡± Tenebres shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Kellen tried to frame attacks like the boar that had destroyed our home as the failures of a corrupt system, but I couldn¡¯t help but remember the hunters who brought the monster down. The men and women who gave their lives to kill it. I just¡­ I knew he was lying. It was fear mongering nonsense. So I started sneaking into Kellen¡¯s study, trying to peer through his books and learn what I could that wasn¡¯t just the bullshit he was feeding everyone.¡±

    ¡°You snuck into this Initiate cult leader¡¯s study?¡± Allana asked, sounding vaguely impressed.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t use it very often. I don¡¯t even know how much he understood what he was doing. In retrospect, it almost seems like his knowledge was distorted. Like he was parroting something he had heard from someone else and only partially understood.¡± Tenebres¡¯s lip lifted in a snarl. ¡°Not that it made him any less dangerous.¡±

    ¡°He tried to have you killed,¡± Geoffrey guessed.

    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t know if he caught on to me sneaking in or just didn¡¯t like me refusing to toe his line, but one night I woke up to his men tying me to a board. I was supposed to be a sacrifice to something he called ¡®the Void¡¯, a way to open a door or a portal, something that would give him the power to overthrow the Realm.¡± Geoffrey snorted derisively, and Tenebres smirked. ¡°Yeah. It didn¡¯t exactly work out for him. Like I said, I don''t think he really understood the magic he was using. He certainly didn¡¯t have any Mage gifts¡±

    ¡°Instead of sacrificing me to open the portal or whatever, something went wrong. For some reason, the Void¡¯s magic warped and sunk into my body rather than consume me.¡± Tenebres paused self-consciously. He was trying to be honest¡­ but some things he just didn¡¯t want to talk about. He didn¡¯t even want to think about the events of the sacrifice chamber, or what happened when he used his new gift on instinct, much less explain the deaths of Kellen and his cult, and Tenebres¡¯s own parents. He swallowed thickly, and instead tried to gloss over it. ¡°By the time all was said and done, Kellen and the rest of the cult were dead, I was a wraith, and I had gotten my first gift.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Allana interrupted, ¡°You weren¡¯t born a wraith?¡±

    Tenebres lifted his hands in a helpless shrug. ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not unheard of, even if it¡¯s rare nowadays,¡± Geoffrey said with a dismissive gesture. ¡°Sounds like a lot of magic was flying around. I¡¯m more curious about this gift you mentioned.¡±

    ¡°Join the club,¡± Tenebres told him. Quietly, he was relieved that Allana¡¯s question distracted from his little jump in his story, and he quickly replied to Geoffrey¡¯s question before either of them could notice it. ¡°It¡¯s called the gift of the void. It¡¯s a big part of why I came to Emeston. I wanted to find someone who could tell me what it was. But, along the way here, I found out about forbidden gifts, and the wardens hunting people with them. That being the case, the first thing I did was get a nice normal gift from the Mage. I planned to start studying the Void as much as I could afterwards, but instead, I got kicked out of the upper city and sent down here. I was still trying to find my way when I met Allana, and¡­ well, here I am.¡±

    Tenebres

    Level: Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Void]: +5 will and charm

    [Gift of the Evoker]: +2 to coordination, knowledge, and focus

    Attributes:

    Strength: 3

    Resilience: 4

    Stamina: 3

    Coordination: 6 (4 + 2)

    Speed: 3

    Will: 11 (6 + 5)

    Knowledge: 9 (7 + 2)

    Focus: 7 (5 + 2)

    Awareness: 5

    Charm: 10 (5 + 5)

    Mystical Well: 10

    ¡°Well, well, well. There we are indeed.¡± Geoffrey¡¯s tone was thoughtful as he digested the boy¡¯s story. For a few moments, the silence draped over the trio like a heavy blanket.

    ¡°I do have one question,¡± Allana interjected. Geoffrey blinked distractedly, then nodded his approval for Alllana to continue. She turned to look at Tenebres and said, ¡°I don¡¯t get why you bothered with the fake name when you got here.¡±

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    Tenebres blinked in surprise. He had expected accusations, suspicion, or at the very least to be pressed for more details. ¡°Well¡­ I was on the run. I needed to hide my gift.¡±

    ¡°Okay, yeah, but¡­ no one here knew you had the gift, right?¡± Allana pointed out. ¡°And the only people who did know were the cult, and you said they¡¯re all dead. So who would be chasing you?¡±

    Tenebres blinked again, his eyes darting helplessly from Allana to Geoffrey. Slowly, realization dawned at him, and he felt his cheeks heating up in time with his sudden understanding of how pointless his alias was. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know! I was in hiding, I thought a fake name was just something I was supposed to have!¡±

    ¡°But no one in Emeston had never heard of Tenebres, that¡¯s what I¡¯m saying. So who was the fake name for?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Tenebres¡¯s mouth hung open wordlessly for a minute before he managed to lamely finish, ¡°... don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m new at this, okay?¡±

    Allana couldn¡¯t stifle her laughter, and Geoffrey joined in this time, leaving Tenebres blushing and stewing in embarrassment. ¡°Not all of us grew up needing to learn this stuff! I can sketch out the formula for how Novice level magic converts kinetic energy to light, but none of the books I stole were about how to flee to an unknown city after everyone you knew died a bloody death!¡±

    Geoffrey patted the air in a mollifying gesture. ¡°It¡¯s okay Tenebres, calm down. We just didn¡¯t expect it.¡±

    Tenebres jutted out his bottom lip in a pout he turned on Allana. ¡°You can stop laughing too now!¡±

    The wraith girl couldn¡¯t quite help herself, her eyes still dancing with laughter as she looked back at Geoffrey. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll give you a break. It¡¯s his turn to share anyway.¡±

    Geoffrey rolled his eyes, pouring another glass rather than beginning his tale. Allana held out her own in turn, but Tenebres shook his head when the master assassin offered him a refresh. In his storytelling, he had left his own drink all but untouched.

    ¡°Very well.¡± The man paused a moment, as if considering, then commented, ¡°This actually touches back on a topic from Tenebres¡¯s explanation.¡±

    ¡°The Void?¡± Tenebres asked hopefully.

    ¡°Unfortunately, no. I¡¯ve heard a few references to the Void before, but I don¡¯t know much about it. Certainly, I¡¯ve never heard of anything like what you described. Actually, I was referring to the idea of forbidden gifts.¡±

    ¡°Oh, please don¡¯t start in on that Arbiter rubbish,¡± Allana said with an eye roll.

    Tenebres narrowed his eyes. ¡°Arbiter rubbish? What do you mean?¡±

    Geoffrey gestured for Allana to explain.

    The girl begrudgingly told him, ¡°The Arbiter is the archetype responsible for all of the laws of the Realm, which makes it very important to the bastion cities, and the nobles, and basically everyone who has all the power. That means it also gets to decide that some archetypes it doesn¡¯t like, like the Rogue, should be forbidden, for the sake of preserving their neat little order.¡±

    Tenebres eyebrows knitted together, and he looked to Geoffrey for confirmation. ¡°Really? That¡¯s all forbidden gifts are? Just some political declaration by one archetype?

    Geoffrey shook his head. ¡°Unfortunately, no. The idea of forbidden gifts just got co-opted by the Arbiter in its conflict with the Rogue, even though, in the most technical sense, the Rogue isn¡¯t actually a forbidden archetype. It is, however, defined in no small part by its opposition to legal structures¨Cthe very order that the Arbiter exists to enforce. I actually use a Rogue gift in the course of my work, the gift of the assassin.¡±

    ¡°And this work of yours,¡± Tenebres nodded slowly as he spoke, ¡°is killing those with actual forbidden gifts?¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    Allana suddenly gasped, and pointed a finger at Geoffrey. ¡°That¡¯s it! I¡¯ve been trying to figure out for weeks why you do what you do! The contracts you turn down versus those you accept, all the monster hunting¡­ all of this is a cover, isn¡¯t it? A way for you to go about your work without anyone taking notice?¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s smile was as understated as always, but he nodded in acknowledgement. ¡°Exactly right.¡±

    ¡°So then what are these actual forbidden gifts, if the Rogue doesn¡¯t give them?¡± Allana asked, clearly intrigued.

    Tenebres leaned in and sipped his own drink slowly. He didn¡¯t want to muddle his thoughts while this mysterious assassin was in such a talkative mood.

    ¡°That answer comes in two parts. The first is the actual forbidden archetypes¨Cthe Tyrant and the Blood-soaked.

    ¡°They do sound somewhat unappealing, admittedly,¡± Tenebres commented.

    ¡°I know the Outlaw and the Rogue,¡± Allana said, ¡°but I¡¯ve never heard of those two.¡±

    ¡°That is part of their nature. The Arbiter¡¯s gifted like to call the Outlaw and the Rogue ¡®evil¡¯ and ¡®forbidden¡¯ and what have you, but the truth is that they have their place. The Rogue calls to any who live outside of the law, a force of chaos that prevents the Arbiter¡¯s laws from turning into tyranny. The Arbiter enforces the law; the Rogue undermines it. The Outlaw fights a similar battle, though in a less impactful way. It nurtures all the petty evils of human nature, calling out to bandits, pirates, highwaymen, liars, pickpockets. Trying to stomp out the Outlaw would mean killing every person willing to take from others to help himself. The effort would be more destructive than beneficial to anyone involved.

    ¡°The Tyrant and the Blood-soaked are much more dangerous. The Tyrant specifically aligns with those who derive power from oppression and suffering, while the Blood-soaked represents those who cause harm and pain for no greater reason than their own satisfaction. The Rogue, and arguably even the Outlaw, fulfill a role in the Realm. But there is no place for the Tyrant and the Blood Soaked in any civilized society. One and all, those with their gifts are dangerous and destructive individuals, as close to evil as you¡¯re likely to ever see.¡±

    ¡°And they inevitably make enemies,¡± Allana said. ¡°Enemies who need someone¡¯s help to kill them, so they hire you. You take on contracts for those who have one of these forbidden gifts, and avoid the rest.¡±

    ¡°There are more exceptions than I¡¯d like, to keep up appearances, but in general, yes.¡±

    ¡°So does that mean Algus had a gift from the Blood-soaked then?¡± Tenebres guessed. ¡°He was killing people to make those candles of his, that seems pretty bad.¡±

    Geoffrey sighed and shook his head. ¡°If only it was that easy,¡± he explained. ¡°I told you that the full answer had two parts. The forbidden archetypes are the first part, but dark favors are just as bad.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s what Algus was using?¡±

    ¡°Correct. You might think of favors as something like relic gifts¨Clike totems or ensouled items, they¡¯re bestowed by an external source, rather than an archetype. Like those gifts, they allow for faster progression, outside of the usual trials and experience, but they come with far more significant drawbacks.¡±

    ¡°Worse than limitations on leveling?¡± Allana had a relic gift of her own¨Cher gift of stealth was granted by the pair of ensouled daggers Telik had given to her at Novice and Apprentice level.

    ¡°Correct. Rather than being created by a skilled artisan or left behind by a slain monster, favors are granted by powerful and intelligent outsiders, usually as a way to strengthen a willing minion. Though the entities in question rarely explain the full effects to their gifted, these favors are universally corruptive, degrading their wielders¡¯ mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health. Algus, for example, had received a gift from an undead, an outsider of the Ruined World. Fittingly, this gift gave him limited access to necromancy, death magic, which he was using to make his cursed candles.¡±

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t looking very good, by the end,¡± Allana mused.

    ¡°Precisely. Though he was killing others to make his necromantic candles, the use of death magic was wearing away at his soul and body. By the time he reached Initiate or Adept, that same corruption would¡¯ve turned him into something inhuman. A monster as bad as whatever gave him the gift of flesh in the first place.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s where you come in.¡± Tenebres¡¯s voice was soft as he spoke, putting the pieces as together out loud. ¡°You kill those who accepted one of these forbidden gifts, be it from an archetype or an outsider, before that gift lets them hurt too many others.¡±

    ¡°And themselves,¡± Geoffrey corrected him gently. ¡°Algus was just as much a victim as anyone he put into those candles of his.¡±

    ¡°I might argue with you on that front¡­¡± Allana grumbled.

    ¡°I have no doubt. But it¡¯s easy enough to see how it happened¨Can old man, with a failing business, being circled by greedy scavengers just waiting to swoop in. He was offered a power he didn¡¯t understand, and took the chance to save himself.¡±

    ¡°His first victims were probably those same moneylenders that were ready to pick him clean,¡± Allana mused.

    ¡°It¡¯s a slippery slope,¡± Tenebres said. He could feel the gift of the void all but throbbing in his chest, as it always seemed to when he thought about the ritual chamber.

    ¡°You assume,¡± Allana responded sourly. ¡°For all you know, he jumped at the chance to inflict the same pain on the world that the world had done to him.¡±

    Tenebres couldn¡¯t help a small cringe at the venom in her words. ¡°Does that make him less of a victim?¡± he asked her, his voice soft.

    ¡°Well¨C¡±

    ¡°In his last moments, I paid Kellen back a hundred times over for everything he had done to me.¡± Tenebres worked to keep his voice level, but a little trace of his anger slipped out anyways. ¡°Does that make me a monster? I even used the gift of the void to do it.¡± He turned his flashing red eyes on Geoffrey. ¡°And you? Am I next on your list to be ¡®saved¡¯ now?¡±

    Geoffrey simply shook his head. The motion was slow, and it seemed he deliberately kept both of his hands on his desk, in plain view. ¡°In a way, given your wording.¡±

    Tenebres narrowed his eyes, waiting for further explanation.

    ¡°You¡¯re something of a special circumstance. Not only did you receive your gift by force, rather than by choice, I¡¯m not even sure if it is a forbidden gift.¡±

    Tenebres shuddered a little, and couldn¡¯t keep himself from biting back. ¡°Trust me, if you knew what it could do, you¡¯d know it¡¯s just as evil as anything Algus¡¯s little blood tricks could manage.¡±

    Geoffrey shook his head. ¡°Abilities are irrelevant. I have a gift of the assassin. My powers are built around dealing death from the shadows, to people who never knew I was there and never had a chance to fight back. It is, by many measures, an ¡®evil¡¯ power.¡±

    Allana blew out a huff. ¡°Evil is a word rich bastards use to justify themselves.¡±

    ¡°Maybe so,¡± Geoffrey allowed. His eyes had never left Tenebres. ¡°When I look at a man like Algus, I see a man for whom death is the only reasonable answer. He had killed, and he would only kill more, corrupting himself even as he did. If killing him would save those lives, and his soul, and help me find the outsider who gave him his power, then I consider it a worthy act.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the same of you, Tenebres. From everything I¡¯ve seen, you are striving to be better than this gift that mars your soul. You have used that power only to strike back against the very people who forced your circumstances on it, and you still feel remorse for that decision. You¡¯ve tried to carve a path to your future without the use of a clearly powerful tool, because you believe it would be wrong. These are all worthy decisions, from where I sit.¡±

    Tenebres stayed rigid in his seat as Geoffrey spoke. He tried to ignore the feeling of desperate hope growing in his chest, quieting even the thrum of the Void. ¡°What are you saying?¡± he finally asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m saying, I¡¯d like to actually save you, if you¡¯ll let me. Train you. Help you find a path worth walking, ¡®evil¡¯ powers or no. Maybe even help you find some answers, if I can.¡±

    ¡°And if I say no? Then we¡¯re back to the euphemism kind of saving?¡±

    Geoffrey shook his head. ¡°No. I¡¯d never force anyone to work with me without a choice. If you¡¯d prefer, I can help you get out of the city, maybe even give you direction towards someone who might know more than me.¡±

    ¡°He gave me a choice too, Seo,¡± Allana told him, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. Tenebres turned to her, and was surprised to see the normally tough, brash girl looking at him with open, even earnest eyes. ¡°If he says he¡¯ll help you, he means it. He¡¯s like you, that way.¡± She added the last with a bashful little smile like Tenebres had never seen from her before.

    The boy looked between Allana and Geoffrey. Two assassins. Two criminals. Two friends. And slowly, despite his fears, he found himself relaxing, the tension trickling out of him.

    ¡°Well. How am I supposed to say no to that?¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes at the response, but neither she nor Geoffrey bothered to hide their smiles.

 Chapter 32 - Storyteller

    Ever since his first night in Felisen, when he shared his gift with Cadence, the bonfire hill had become Storyteller¡¯s favorite place in the town. From the high vantage point, both the glittering sprawl of the village¡¯s residences and the peaceful darkness of the forest that lay beyond them were laid out before him. With the unique senses he had awakened as his awareness was boosted, the panorama Cadence loved so much was made even more beautiful, a tapestry of life and emotion.

    He didn¡¯t turn away from the view when his soul sense told him that a new presence approached from behind. ¡°Good evening, Mistress Ryme. You¡¯re up late.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long couple of weeks,¡± Felisen¡¯s chief hunter replied. She sat down next to the lanky adventurer, staring out at the town with a touch of protectiveness she probably wasn¡¯t fully aware of. ¡°Yet I find myself too tired to sleep tonight.¡±

    Storyteller made a sound of soft agreement.

    ¡°And you? You don¡¯t even actually sleep, do you?¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s lips twitched in a brief flicker of a smile. ¡°You are far too perceptive, Mistress Ryme. Even for your level.¡±

    Ryme huffed out a breath of laughter.

    Storyteller sighed. ¡°You¡¯re right. I have little need for sleep these days. But I find I think better at night in any case.¡± Before Ryme could press him for any further details, he asked her, ¡°How are the Beltleys faring?¡±

    Ryme blew out a breath. In the nearly two weeks since the miasma had struck the Beltley farm, Ryme had kept herself busy, her time split between coordinating the hunters to sweep for any other goblins or warbeasts created by the magical fog and assisting the Beltleys in adjusting to their new lives.

    ¡°It was rough, the first few days,¡± she admitted. ¡°Waking up to find your home ransacked, your farm destroyed, your livestock slaughtered, and your family transformed makes for a rude awakening. To say nothing of the reactions of most of the people in town the first time they saw them.¡±

    While the invasive power of the Chained World¡¯s miasma had transformed the livestock of the Beltley¡¯s farm into monstrous beings, the family themselves had only been turned into wraiths. Their souls were preserved against the corruptive influence of the magic, leaving the family the same on the inside, but their bodies had been changed significantly.

    ¡°Denning and I did all we could, but¡­¡±

    ¡°You cannot tell people to leave aside their prejudices.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Ryme shook her head. ¡°It was Callahan who changed things, actually. While everyone else was gasping and murmuring and judging, the old bastard walked right out like nothing had changed and offered his services in fixing up the property, free of charge.¡±

    Storyteller had only been in Felisen for a couple months, but he still recognized the value of the old carpenter¡¯s opinions, as one of the more influential (and wealthy) men in the little town. ¡°Quite the gesture.¡±

    ¡°It worked, too. Once they saw Callahan reaching a hand out, everyone else started to do the same. Just like we always come together after a disaster.¡±

    Storyteller still kept his eyes on the town below, but he didn¡¯t need to look at Ryme to feel the quiet pride inside of her.

    ¡°This is a good community you have here, Mistress Ryme.¡±

    ¡°I like to think so.¡± Ryme paused for a moment. Storyteller knew what she was going to ask before she spoke, though he could not say if that was due to his charm attribute or merely his experience with conversations like this one.

    ¡°Why is it you insist on that title, Teller?¡± she asked, her voice troubled. ¡°I¡¯m no one¡¯s mistress, whatever you might say. I¡¯m just a woman with a job.¡±

    ¡°We may have to disagree on that point,¡± Storyteller replied with a quiet grin. He knew she¡¯d have no more problem seeing in the darkness than he did. ¡°You lead these people, Mistress Ryme. And you¡¯re good at it. That alone deserves recognition, whether you realize it or not.¡±

    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t answer my question. We both know there¡¯s a stark difference between you and me. No matter what you think, I''m certainly not your mistress.¡±

    The smile slowly faded off Storyteller¡¯s face, leaving a pensive frown behind. ¡°I¡¯m strong, Ryme. I¡¯m sure you know this.¡±

    Ryme nodded, unfazed. ¡°With four gifts¡­ that would make you a Master, right?¡±

    The levels above Adept were rarely discussed in places like Felisen, as it was unlikely the citizens of the frontier towns would ever meet anyone beyond that vaunted level. Ryme had scarcely heard of Master, a level above Expert, which itself was a step above Adept. She only understood that it was a level rarely reached. The King himself was the only other Master level gifted she had ever heard of.

    Storyteller blew out a long breath. ¡°Not quite, though you¡¯re on the right track. Suffice it to say that I¡¯m stronger than nearly anyone I¡¯m likely to meet.¡±

    Ryme stayed quiet for a moment, imagining what Storyteller was describing. Power was fine and good, but Ryme was already aware of how isolating it could be. Among the villages closest to Felisen, even Initiates were rare, and Adepts even rarer. Callahan was the only other Initiate in the town, with Denning likely to achieve the level before the end of the year as well. Even in a close knit community like Felisen, her power separated Ryme from the people around her in a thousand small but noticeable ways.

    She tried to imagine how much more difficult it would be to be not just one or two levels above the people around her, but three, or four, or more. How many people even existed at that level? There couldn''t be many, even in the bastion cities. She couldn¡¯t imagine the isolation he must feel.

    ¡°That must be lonely.¡±

    ¡°In ways you can¡¯t even know,¡± Storyteller agreed quietly. ¡°It is human nature to distrust strangers, much less dangerous and powerful strangers. It is difficult to help people who neither like nor trust you.¡± He shrugged with a casualness he didn¡¯t feel. ¡°No amount of charm can overcome certain prejudices. Rather, I find it simpler to treat the leaders of the places I go with deference and respect¨Cprovided they deserve it¨Cregardless of our respective powers.¡±

    Ryme didn¡¯t quite know how to respond to that, though much of it matched her suspicions.

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    A few long minutes of silence passed between them, only broken by the peaceful chirp and buzz of insects in the dark around them. Finally, Ryme asked the question that had actually carried her up the bonfire hill.

    ¡°You¡¯re leaving soon, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°We are,¡± Storyteller confirmed, his voice solemn.

    ¡°Even with everything happening here?¡± Ryme¡¯s voice had a faint whisper of hope in it. ¡°The ogre, the miasma, the barrens. Something¡¯s changing in Felisen. We could use you here. You, and Cadence.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Storyteller gave another affirmative. ¡°But we still can¡¯t stay.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Storyteller exhaled slowly, and for the first time, Ryme caught his eyes change. In the dark, she had barely been able to make out the deep shade of brown that seemed to be their natural tone. But as she watched, they changed, like they had caught and reflected some invisible light, leaving them a bright, inhuman shade of yellow.

    ¡°You are familiar with the natural flow of magic, are you not?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Ryme answered, troubled. ¡°Magic swells through the fall and is at its most turbulent in winter, then recedes until summer, when it is at its calmest.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. The specifics change depending on the place and time, but in general, it ties to the seasons in some way.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ are you saying this is some sort of cycle? The same as the normal seasonal shift in the magic?¡±

    ¡°The exact opposite, actually.¡± Now it was Storyteller''s turn to sound troubled. ¡°The connections that link our world and the Dark Worlds are explicitly unnatural. They do not follow the same cycles as the magic inherent to our world.¡±

    Ryme studied Storyteller¡¯s profile more carefully, and a thought occurred to her. An impossible thought. ¡°Teller¡­ did you¡­¡±

    Storyteller couldn¡¯t help a small huff, already knowing where her thoughts had turned. ¡°No, Mistress Ryme. I am not that old. The Wastes predate even me,¡± he answered her unfinished question, amused. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard a convincing theory as to why our world shares connections to the three Dark Worlds, but it is clear that they defy the rules our own magic follows. Outsiders do not have gifts, or levels, and their magic is not cyclical or dynamic, the way ours is.¡±

    Ryme nodded along, though she only barely followed Storyteller¡¯s words. She wasn¡¯t a sentinel, dedicated to standing against the endless outsiders that crossed over from the Dark Worlds. She, and hunters like her across the heartlands and the frontier, were more dedicated to the removal of the magical monsters actually native to the Realm.

    ¡°But then¡­ How is this happening?¡±

    ¡°An excellent question, Mistress Ryme. One I¡¯m still trying to find an answer to.¡± Storyteller¡¯s gaze drifted up, from the sprawl of the town below to the infinite expanse of the stars overhead. ¡°Places like your barrens are common enough. Think of them as tiny Wastes, small, isolated places that have a connection to one of the Dark Worlds. I suspect, were we to trace Felisen¡¯s roots far enough, that we¡¯d find this village was actually founded to monitor what you now call the barrens.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Ryme asked. Her own head had turned towards the dark stretch of the forest beyond Felisen, as if she could see the barrens in the distance, dark and sullen and dangerous.

    ¡°That yearly expedition you undertake is what convinced me,¡± Storyteller told her. ¡°Even if the meaning of it has been lost, it''s clear someone in the history of this village wanted to keep an eye on that place.¡±

    ¡°But we never found anything on those trips.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. The barrens are, in fact, so small that I suspect you¡¯d have to be tragically unlucky to get more than a couple outsiders crossing over every year. Most of them probably got themselves killed in the forest without ever being seen by a hunter.¡± Storyteller huffed a dry laugh of amusement. ¡°The magic is exceptionally volatile here. How do you think goblins like those we encountered at the farm would stand up against some of the monsters you and yours hunt in the winter?¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Ryme couldn¡¯t help her own helpless laugh. ¡°And we always undertake the expedition in spring, when the magic is receding. Anything that manifested must¡¯ve gotten itself killed during the winter, when the strongest monsters are about.¡±

    ¡°Likely, yes.¡±

    ¡°But now¡­ that¡¯s not happening.¡±

    ¡°Correct. The ogre I killed was an old one. A hill giant, we call them, when they get to that size. It would¡¯ve taken a very powerful or specialized monster to be able to kill it, and unfortunately, I doubt your hunters would have fared any better.¡±

    ¡°And the miasma?¡±

    ¡°A sending. The miasma is a weapon, and I believe it operates on some level of intelligence. The farm was an ideal place for it to do its work.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯ve never heard of anything like either of those,¡± Ryme protested. She bit her bottom lip, fretting. If Storyteller hadn¡¯t been there, either of those threats could have resulted in the kind of destruction she was dedicated to preventing, and there was nothing she could¡¯ve done about it. ¡°What changed?¡±

    ¡°Something,¡± Storyteller replied, lifting his hands in a futile gesture. ¡°I don¡¯t know what. But something is causing the stable connections between the Dark Worlds and places like the barrens to fluctuate, allowing more manifestations through.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you can¡¯t stay,¡± Ryme said quietly. ¡°Because what we¡¯re facing isn¡¯t a problem, it¡¯s a symptom.¡±

    ¡°A symptom I¡¯m able to delay, at the very least. It¡¯ll be some time until you¡¯re troubled with problems like these again, but if someone doesn¡¯t fix the problem itself, the barrens will open back up again eventually.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re the one who has to do that?¡±

    Storyteller couldn¡¯t help a bitter smile. ¡°It¡¯s a dirty job, but someone¡¯s got to do it.¡±

    ¡°And¡­ Cadence?¡±

    ¡°One day, it will be her job too,¡± Storyteller told her. He looked over at Ryme, and she noticed that his eyes had gone from their previous eerie yellow to that piercing blue shade. ¡°She has it in her. I saw it, and so did the Adventurer himself.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ my Cadence, dealing with problems like this¡­¡± Ryme¡¯s voice grew tight as she considered her only child finally leaving Felisen. It was a thought she had put off for a long time, even as they trained and prepared for this inevitable day.

    Storyteller chuckled. ¡°Not quite this scale,¡± he reassured her. ¡°Not for a while, at least. She¡¯ll need to get at least to Adept before she starts having to deal with the big stuff.¡±

    ¡°Well. That¡¯s good at least,¡± Ryme swallowed thickly.

    ¡°It¡¯s a good life,¡± Storyteller told her. ¡°Cadence will see things you can¡¯t imagine, make friends and allies that will last a lifetime. Adventurers may be little more than a story to most of the world¨Cbut as you¡¯ve no doubt begun to recognize, some of us do still exist. And we watch out for each other.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Ryme said, though the crack in her voice compromised the sentiment.

    ¡°She¡¯ll also be able to come see you whenever she wants,¡± Storyteller added.

    Ryme blinked away tears to look at Storyteller, baffled. ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°At Adept.¡± He explained. ¡°One of the abilities the gift of the wanderer grants is a sort of teleportation to certain places. I have no doubt she¡¯ll ensure Felisen will be one of those.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ Adept, that¡¯s years away.¡±

    Storyteller shrugged. ¡°Not as long as you¡¯d think. Three, maybe four.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Ryme asked, even more baffled. ¡°It took me nearly a decade to get to Initiate alone!¡±

    ¡°Mmm. And how often did you fight? How often did you push yourself, and really force your gifts to grow? Once or twice a year? Maybe three, in a bad winter?¡± Storyteller shook his head. ¡°That may be the timeline for hunters like you, dealing with only occasional threats. But for a sentinel working frequently in the Wastes, or an active adventurer, I¡¯d say the road from Novice to Adept is perhaps five years at the longest. And Cadence doesn¡¯t seem like someone to take the long way.¡±

    Ryme chuckled, the sound a little shaky. ¡°No. No, she is not.¡±

    ¡°Then there you go. She¡¯ll be able to come see you in just a matter of years¨Cand that¡¯s assuming her road doesn¡¯t just take her through here again before then.¡±

    Another long moment of silence passed between the two, Ryme processing that news. Storyteller waited with the patience born of a lifetime counted in decades rather than years, until she finally said, in a quiet voice, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Storyteller nodded, turning his gaze back to the town below. ¡°You have a beautiful home, Mistress Ryme.¡±

    Ryme arched an eyebrow at Storyteller as they both heard a stick snap on the other side of the hill. It was far from the first sound they had heard from Cadence¨Cneither had felt the need to keep her from hearing their conversation.

    Storyteller winked at Ryme, then stood up. ¡°I¡¯m getting restless. I¡¯m going to walk around for a bit.¡±

    Ryme lifted a silent hand in goodbye, her eyes still fixed on the glittering sprawl of Felisen.

    Storyteller¡¯s path off the hill walked within a few paces of where Cadence sat on the ground, her back against the stone bench, hidden by shadow. ¡°Cadence. Go talk to your mother,¡± he told her as he walked by, not pausing for a response.

 Chapter 33 - Caden

    The sun had barely risen the next morning when Storyteller knocked gently on the door to Ryme¡¯s cottage. It swung open immediately to reveal neither the chief hunter of Felisen nor her daughter. Instead, a scruffy, skinny teenage boy emerged, his sky-blue hair tied back in a tight wolf tail that was nearly hidden by a slouched cap. He wore a quilted coat over his tightly cinched leathers with linen chaps that hung loosely over his hips.

    On one side of his belt was a leaf-bladed hatchet with a tooled leather cover protecting its head. Storyteller recognized the runes carved on each side of the axe head as his own handiwork, having contributed to the two weapons Ryme had commissioned from Callahan. The other sat opposite the hatchet, a quiver of hardened, bright white doeskin, which held an unstrung short bow and a few dozen arrows fletched in a mix of red and green feathers.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± Storyteller greeted the youth, a rare trace of uncertainty in his tone.

    ¡°Caden,¡± the boy answered the unasked question with a small grin. ¡°Ready to go?¡±

    #

    The shadows still lay deep on the road leading out of Felisen as the two started on their way. Each wore a comfortable travelbag, Storyteller¡¯s cinched across his chest while Caden looped the straps tightly over his shoulders to minimize the jostling. The spring air still carried a hint of the night¡¯s chill, but the swiftly rising sun promised warmth.

    ¡°Did your conversation with your mother go well then?¡± Storyteller asked as they walked.

    ¡°That¡¯s between me and her,¡± Caden answered simply. He rested an absent hand on the head of his hatchet, then added, ¡°Thank you, by the way. For this.¡±

    ¡°Thank your mother,¡± Storyteller replied. ¡°She paid me for the work.¡±

    An hour passed easily as the pair continued to walk. Around them, the farms and ranches that provided Felisen¡¯s food began to sluggishly awaken. Even the Beltley farm was functioning again, after some time off in the wake of their transformations.

    Caden was proud of his mother¨Cshe had taken the situation with the newfound wraiths well in hand, promptly and completely squashing any superstitious discrimination over the state of the transformed family. They¡¯d need extra hands to make up for the crops and animals lost to the miasma, and Ryme had ensured that they would have all the help they needed.

    A small tear came to his eye at the thought of his mother. Their final talk had been tearful and difficult for both of them, but Ryme had told them over and over how proud she was of them for making the choice to leave Felisen. It had actually been her suggestion, after she had given Cadence the gifts now riding at his side, for him to spend some time in his more masculine persona. It was a good way to make a clean break with the village Caden was leaving behind.

    ¡°No one else you want to say goodbye to?¡± Storyteller asked. Ahead, they could see the end of the tamed farmlands outside of Felisen, where the road truly entered the emptier lands between villages.

    ¡°You mean Brian?¡± Caden guessed with another grin. He felt good¨Cit always felt like he was allowed to be more confident, even aggressive, when he was presenting this way. He didn¡¯t like it all the time, but for a day like this, it was what he needed.

    ¡°I mean anyone,¡± Storyteller repeated, arching an eyebrow at the teenager¡¯s behavior. ¡°You won¡¯t be back here for some time.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Caden said simply. ¡°But it has to be this way. If I went around saying goodbye to everyone¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d ever leave.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Storyteller said, his tone slightly impressed.

    ¡°So,¡± Caden asked, ¡°where are we going anyways?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when we get there.¡±

    #

    The following weeks were some of the best of Caden¡¯s life. Every day, they¡¯d rise with the sun and start walking. His stamina attribute grew, and combined with the boon he¡¯d already gotten from the gift of the wanderer, the two were easily able to cover fifteen miles a day, day after day, even with the time they spent hunting to supplement the trail rations they had brought with them.

    Caden had spent the first few days frequently looking over his shoulder, thinking of his mother and his home, but Storyteller quickly figured out the best way to distract him. With nothing ahead but open road, there was all the time in the world for Caden to ask every question he could of Storyteller. Already, the adventurer had proven himself an enthusiastic teacher, but on the road, they could spend hours talking about the layout of the Realm, the nature of gifts and magic, and the existence of the archetypes.

    ¡°There are over twenty active archetypes known to give gifts in the Realm,¡± Storyteller explained one morning. ¡°For you to make the most of your power, and to survive while traveling, I want you to know all of them and their major gifts by heart.¡±

    ¡°That seems like¡­ a lot of memorization,¡± Caden commented with a wince.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be as bad as you think,¡± Storyteller reassured him. ¡°Plenty of scholars have come up with different organizational methods to keep track of the Divine Archetypes. Some use pairs, others pantheons. I find it simplest to speak of them in triads, groups of three associated archetypes, which I think you¡¯ll find to be common as you travel.¡±

    #

    To break up the cycle of waking, sleeping, and doing it all over again, the two would occasionally take half the day to continue Caden¡¯s training with various weaponry. Most often, these days would fall whenever they happened to come across a roadside inn catering to travelers like themselves. The chance at a real bed and a well-prepared meal instead of a blanket and whatever they could catch for the pot was more than worth stopping their travel early, but it also meant that their training sessions had an audience far more often than Caden liked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this sort of weapon¡­¡± Caden complained one evening. He twirled the long haft of his practice spear in his hands, trying not to think of a certain person who preferred such weapons.

    ¡°Your gifts don¡¯t give you much room for preference,¡± Storyteller reminded him. ¡°If a spear is the best weapon for the gifts you copy, you need to be ready to use it.¡±He did offer the youth a wink. ¡°Trust me. This is preparing you for the next big ability the gift of the echo will give you.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Caden groaned, ¡°but do they need to be betting on how I¡¯m going to lose?¡± He gestured at the small group of men that had gathered around them in a wide arc.

    One of the men met Storyteller¡¯s eyes and gave him a thumbs up, and the adventurer grinned. The expression was rakish against his dancing green eyes. ¡°Yes. Yes they do. Now get up, I¡¯ve got five scepters on this next one.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t betting on how you¡¯re going to beat me cheating?¡±

    ¡°Learn enough to take a dive and maybe I¡¯ll let you in on it next time.¡±

    ¡°...Yeah, okay.¡±

    #

    Near the end of their first week traveling together, Storyteller suddenly paused, peering into the surrounding woodlands without explanation.

    Taking his cue from the seasoned adventurer, Caden did the same. It was too early in the day for them to be stopping, and he didn¡¯t see any sign of an inn, or even one of the trader caravans Storyteller would often stop to chat with. The stretch of road they found themselves on was empty, seldom-used to the point that it was starting to sprout fragile green blades of grass. To one side, a low, oft-broken fence was the clearest sign of the roadway¡¯s edge.

    Caden was surprised at the emptiness of the place, actually. A few rocky hills surrounded them, but the lush grass and shrubbery that grew undaunted just off of the roadside attested to the area¡¯s fertility. Which meant¡­

    ¡°These hills have monsters in them, don¡¯t they?¡± Caden asked. He kept his voice low, but reached down to unbuckle his hatchet while Storyteller replied.

    ¡°They certainly do. Fortunately, most of them seem to prefer to stay in their lairs.¡±

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    ¡°Most?¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡± He tilted his chin towards a notable break in the fence line. ¡°They¡¯ll come through there. Are you ready?¡±

    Caden grinned. He hadn¡¯t had the chance to take on a monster since the mess at the Beltley farm. While his first fights had left him with more than a few nightmares for the first couple nights afterwards, the experience had quickly turned into something exhilarating in his mind. It was the real reason for all the training he had been doing with the hunters and Storyteller after all¨Cthe chance to prove himself against some wild, dangerous monster, to ensure it didn¡¯t attack someone who couldn¡¯t fight back.

    ¡°Right¡­¡± His fingers shifted on his hatchet and he dropped into a slight crouch, ready to move any way he needed to. He held both his Gift Reflection and his Soul Surge back, waiting to see what he was facing off against before he committed to a specific strategy.

    It took only moments for the monster to reveal itself, and Cadence quickly looked it over, his boosted awareness allowing him to pick out details even from afar. Based on its fluffy tail and brown fur, Caden assumed it had been a squirrel at some point, but very little of the once cute animal remained. Its diminutive body was still quadrupedal, unlike the unnatural goblins he had fought back in Felisen, but it was significantly larger and more muscular than any normal such animal, easily a foot tall at its shoulder. Its claws were noticeably longer than normal too, but the true threat seemed to be the two razor sharp teeth jutting from the monster''s upper jaw.

    Caden recognized it as a breed of minor monster as common as the weak bramble-spawn he had encountered months before on his way to the barrens. Like weeds, rodents, large insects, and the like both consumed magic more rapidly as a product of their short lifespans. The results were universally referred to as ¡°dire vermin¡±, making the squat little monster bearing down on him a dire squirrel.

    Such monsters were more dangerous and aggressive than their natural varieties, but according to Storyteller, should fall well within the abilities of even a Novice level battle-gifted. Of course, Caden¡¯s gifts stretched the definition of battle-gifted, but the training he had undergone since receiving his gifts had made him significantly more dangerous than his subtle abilities would imply.

    Caden expected that a monster like the dire squirrel would be heavily dependent on its natural agility to get close enough to land a bite with those teeth it was packing. The monster may have looked awkward and almost goofy, but with teeth like that, it was more than capable of killing Caden if it bit him in the wrong place. Nodding to himself, he activated his Soul Surge.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    [Soul Surge] activated

    Speed attribute boosted

    The monster¡¯s lightning quick movements seemed to slow down, the combination of his speed attribute¡¯s enhanced reflexes and perception allowing him to more easily track the magical rodent¡¯s movements. His hatchet flickered through the air, but he failed to land a solid cut, instead just batting the weighty critter away.

    It quickly scrambled to its feet, tail upright and bristling as it released a weird hissing chirrup. Like everything else about the dire squirrel, the noise was more funny than intimidating, but as it was followed by another dash from the rodent, Caden didn¡¯t have much time to laugh. He swung with his hatchet, but again, he failed to connect meaningfully, his improved speed not giving him the hand-eye coordination to make his attacks as accurate as they needed to be. Desperate, he grabbed the monster¡¯s tail as it darted by instead.

    He gritted his teeth through the unexpected pain- the fur on its tail was much more coarse than he expected, not quite as sharp as a hedgehog¡¯s, but distinctly uncomfortable in his hand¨Cand pivoted, using his own speed and the creature¡¯s own momentum to swing the rodent in an arc.

    It bounced off the dirt road, clearly dazed, and before it could recover, Caden swung his hatchet down. The carefully honed edge cut cleanly through the monster¡¯s muscle and bone alike, but it still flailed around, landing a few long scratches along Caden¡¯s arm as he swung his hatchet a second, then a third time before the vermin¡¯s head finally flew off its struggling body.

    Caden stood over the mutilated rodent, panting for breath, his axe and shirt both covered in the monster¡¯s blood, reminding him uncomfortably of the aftermath of killing the goat goblin. The boy took a few slow breaths, trying to calm himself despite the iron-y tang of the blood. He refused to panic, to black out again. He was an adventurer now, traveling on his own, and he couldn¡¯t keep letting himself do that!

    After a moment, the encroaching nerves passed. Caden looked at Storyteller for approval, but the tall adventurer only arched an eyebrow and flicked a look behind him.

    Even with Caden¡¯s improved speed, he barely reacted quickly enough to avoid another squirrel as it flew through the air where his head had been seconds before. He hopped back, just in time to see the brush part for a third monstrous rodent to emerge from the fenceline as well. Caden winced¨Che had plenty of time left in his Soul Surge, but a single monster had been tough enough, to say nothing of two at the same time.

    While he desperately tried to come up with a plan, the two dire squirrels continued their assault, forcing him to continue fending them off with clumsy swings of his hatchet, but two of them proved to be an entirely different prospect than just one. If he tried to pin one of them down the way he had the first, the spare would be free to attack him in the meantime. With their agility and how close they were, his bow would be worse than useless, too.

    If Caden had boosted his resilience or strength instead, maybe he would¡¯ve been able to take a few hits in order to put them down more decisively, but he couldn¡¯t stack another Surge while the first one was still active. And, to his continued dismay, he caught sight of a fourth joining the other two.

    Still, Storyteller had made no motion to join the fight, even though Caden knew that the adventurer could easily destroy the dire vermin. It would only take a single use of one of those lightning bolts to¡­

    Caden¡¯s eyes went wide at the realization. Lightning bolts! He shot a quick look at Storyteller, even the brief moment of distraction costing him another scratch as a squirrel scuttled past, and used the other ability from his echo gift. He had never tried to copy an ability from Storyteller before, but the attack he was looking for quickly appeared before his eyes, his Gift Reflection recognizing his thoughts and needs.

    [Gift of Lightning] reflected

    [Lightning Bolt] - Active, Elemental, Attack - Shoot a single bolt of lightning at a target. Attack is brief, but destructive, and will pass through most obstacles. Major quintessence cost (converted to major stamina and focus cost).

    Caden frowned at the description. The attack¡¯s cost was even higher than he had expected. Combined with the cost of his Soul Surge when it ran out, even one use would leave him with a pounding migraine. His stamina could probably bear a second use, given the boost it received from his wanderer gift, but his focus lacked a similar boon.

    Still, it was worth it. With a particularly wild flailing of his axe, he forced the trio of squirrels back momentarily, then thrust out his free hand, forcing magic through the temporary pattern the gift of the echo had put into his soul. There was an odd fluttering in his chest, like the excitement of an approaching festival, that matched the lightning that began to crackle around his fingers with odd little pops, like static, before it coalesced and shot at the squirrels.

    The attack was too brief for Caden to see anything more than a flash that left splintered imprints in his vision, but it did the job. Even as he sagged in place, feeling the drop to his focus and stamina, he surveyed the results of the attack. Two of the squirrels had been destroyed entirely, along with a good portion of the fence. The third survived¨Cbut apparently the attack was savage enough to overwhelm even its aggression, and it turned to run.

    ¡°Pick up the spare,¡± Storyteller urged him, but the words were unnecessary. Even as exhausted as he was, Caden¡¯s hands had flown to his shortbow, nocking an arrow with the lingering speed of his temporary boost. Caden might not have a lot of experience fighting monsters, but he had helped his mother hunt rabbits and the like for years. Caden had a second arrow in flight before the first even hit the dire squirrel, and while the monster managed to run through the pain of the first, green-fletched, arrow, the second was fletched with bright red feathers and finally felled the last of the monsters.

    ¡°Sloppy, but acceptable,¡± Storyteller told Caden.

    [Gift of the Echo] experienced gained

    Experience: 26%

    As the adrenaline wore off, Caden slouched in place, feeling both the exhaustion of his spent attributes and the burning pain of the numerous wounds he had accrued. None of the scratches were dangerous, even put together, but the wounds stung persistently and oozed blood. The tunic he wore was basically a loss.

    ¡°That was clever, using my Lightning Bolt, but until your gift gets high enough to mimic a quintessence pool too, I¡¯d recommend against copying Primal gift abilities.¡±

    Caden winced, struggling through the discomfort and tiredness to try to process the older adventurer¡¯s words. He barely managed to grunt, ¡°Noted. Thanks.¡±

    Storyteller surveyed the empty field thoughtfully, then looked down at Caden. ¡°Do you need a potion?¡±

    Caden felt his head sag down, until his head was resting against his collarbone. He just sat on the ground for a minute, slowly breathing, feeling his body throb with the pain of a dozen or so cuts. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°No?¡±

    ¡°I need to get used to it, right?¡± Caden asked, still not looking up at Storyteller. ¡°This is the life I wanted, I¡¯m not gonna go running for a potion every time I screw up and get hurt.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Storyteller made a thoughtful sound above Caden, and he looked up sharply.

    ¡°What?¡± Caden snapped, his patience about run dry.

    ¡°Just surprised, that¡¯s all. I find most people need to be taught that lesson.¡± Storyteller¡¯s tone was enough to wring a small smile out of Caden, even if he turned his face back down before the tall man could see it.

    ¡°Here, bandage yourself up at least,¡± Storyteller told him, tossing down a bundle of gauzy white linen.

    Without a word, Caden nodded and started winding the bandages around his forearm, the motions smooth despite his shaking hands. It was another skill Ryme had made sure he developed early on, given the number of cuts and scrapes he¡¯d often come home with growing up.

    By the time he finished and looked up, Storyteller was surveying the horizon with a squint. ¡°I¡¯d say we can get in a good five more miles today. You manage that, I¡¯ll give you a potion so that you can get some sleep.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°Accept it,¡± Storyteller advised. ¡°I¡¯m happy I didn¡¯t have to teach you this lesson, but trust me on this one. Once you try to go to sleep with that many wounds and no potion, you¡¯ll understand why I¡¯m insisting. There¡¯s no getting used to that particular experience.¡±

    Once they started walking again, Storyteller suggested, ¡°If you think this is uncomfortable, figure out how to not exhaust yourself every time you fight a few vermin.¡±

    Caden frowned, but took the older adventurer¡¯s suggestion, musing over the fight in his mind and trying to envision what he could¡¯ve done differently.

 Chapter 34 - Oliver

    ¡°Did you seriously bring books on our journey to hunt down a vicious monster no one else has survived meeting?¡±

    Oliver smirked at Rose¡¯s question, but did not respond immediately. Only once he finished his paragraph did he look up. ¡°Yes, I did.¡±

    The petite warden trainee sighed and pouted at Oliver. They were three days out from Correntry, and the tedium of the job ahead of them had begun to set in. Rose was right that, on the surface, their job should be outright anxiety inducing, but they had no idea when (or even if) the attack would come, and the route they¡¯d be following with Hugo and his company would take at least a month in each direction. Two months of riding in a wagon, as they were now, or running alongside it. Two months of being on alert for a possible attack. Two months during which they couldn¡¯t even practice.

    Since he had left Elliven with Adeline, training had been a constant in Oliver¡¯s life. Every day was either spent out in the field or in the training hall, constantly pushing his skills to their limit. Even when they couldn¡¯t book a practice room, Adeline had driven him to do some kind of physical training, from weight lifting to running a lap around Correntry¡¯s walls. As far as he could tell, Farris had held her trainees to a similarly rigorous standard, and they had been doing it for even longer than he had. The constant rigor had slowly but steadily helped Oliver¡¯s gifts improve, particularly his gift of the vanguard.

    [Gift of the Vanguard]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 16%

    Defeat foes to grow your skill in the face of danger

    [Gift of Wind]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 10%

    Push your limits to grow closer to the wind

    But now that they were on the road, it was impossible to keep up the same pace. Training weights were far too heavy to justify loading on a wagon, and as the trio were supposed to be simple hired hands working for Hugo, practice duels were off the table. If their quarry was watching them, such a brazen display of combat ability might be enough to make it reconsider attacking at all.

    There was always the chance that an unrelated monster could attack, but it was unlikely. The warden patrols hunting for the same prey they were had thoroughly cleansed the majority of weaker monsters in the area, and the placid magic of springtime lacked the density needed to create even minor monsters in any significant numbers.

    All of that was to say that Oliver was very relieved that he had decided to purchase the two leatherbound volumes that were the heaviest items in his travelsack, even if they were a bit removed from his usual fare.

    ¡°What are you even reading?¡± Rose asked, her tone annoyed. Neither girl had thought to buy something to help them pass the time, and Farris had apparently not advised them of the need.

    Oliver lifted the book up to show her its cover, embossed with the title, ¡°The Travels of Elben Trellay.¡±

    Rose read the cover outloud, puzzled. Oliver was surprised to hear a slight hesitance in her words, particularly around the unfamiliar name. ¡°Okay¡­ well, what¡¯s it about then?¡±

    Oliver sighed. He was beginning to think he should¡¯ve suggested that the two buy some sort of distraction for themselves, if only so he¡¯d have the peace and quiet to do some reading. ¡°It¡¯s the collected writings and journals of a ranger, Elben Trellay. She roamed the heartlands for sixty-seven years, and during that time, she wrote about every monster she came across. Their behaviors, abilities, habitats, even the magic they were aligned with.¡±

    ¡°Sixty-seven years?¡± Beryl called back from the driver¡¯s seat of their wagon. Oliver had been surprised to learn that both girls knew how to drive such a vehicle, but Beryl held the reins of the pair of draft goats hitched to their wagon with a bland confidence. They had been taking turns every few hours. ¡°She must¡¯ve been a dottard by the end!¡±

    Oliver huffed a small laugh. ¡°Not quite. She reached Expert and had a resilience boon that kept her hale and hearty well into her eighties. Apparently she finally passed on shortly after her hundred-and-twentieth birthday. This volume was actually collected posthumously, a grandson trying to ensure her legacy or something like that.¡±

    Beryl responded with a low whistle. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta level up.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t we all,¡± Rose agreed. ¡°So what, you¡¯re looking for our monster in there?¡±

    ¡°More or less.¡± Oliver shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a long shot, but I figure it¡¯s as good a way to pass the time as any.¡±

    ¡°What about that one?¡± Rose asked, reaching for the second tome resting on the wagon floor next to him.

    ¡°The Umbral Lexicon,¡± Oliver explained. ¡°Abridged edition, of course.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Rose muttered sarcastically as she thumbed through the pages. The book was twice the size of the Travels, which itself was far from a penny novel. ¡°What does the unabridged edition look like, then?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s four volumes long, each as thick as that.¡± Oliver shook his head wistfully. ¡°I¡¯d love to own the full set one day. It¡¯s a catalog of every known detail regarding each of the three Darkened Worlds and the outsiders that populate them, as well as an examination of how they impact the flow of ambient magic and the tendencies of each Waste¡¯s connections to them. It¡¯s a fascinating read¡­ if a bit dense.¡± He admitted the last reluctantly.

    ¡°Clearly.¡±

    Oliver raised an eyebrow. ¡°Don¡¯t you have a gift from the Mage? I¡¯d have expected that this sort of study would be nothing for you.¡±

    Rose shrugged, continuing to idly flip through the Lexicon. ¡°Animism is much more about practice than theory. I had some learning to do to master the fundamentals, but once you get the basics down, life magic is a pretty straightforward thing to manipulate. Someone gets hurt, you shove some magic in them until they stop bleeding.¡±

    ¡°That easy, huh?¡± Oliver asked with a grin.

    Rose rolled a pale, slender shoulder in another shrug. The motion drew his eyes to the twirling lines of her brand, a simple staff surrounded by the same swirling wind lines as Oli¡¯s sword brand. ¡°It¡¯s not too complicated, at the very least.¡±

    Oliver huffed a breath and turned back to his book. ¡°Not too complicated¡­¡± he repeated, shaking his head. While he had never studied intensely enough to take a Mage¡¯s exam, he was familiar enough with magic to know that it was far from as simple as the girl was making it out. Absently, Oli wondered if Rose was being modest, or if she was actually smart enough that she thought even her magic was that simple.

    #

    The days rolled by as the wagons trundled down the Flax Road.

    Hugo¡¯s Trading Company was a relatively small interest. Hugo, its owner, was a round-shouldered stump of a man that managed to carry a noticeable paunch despite a lifetime on the road. Though at Apprentice he was the highest level member of the expedition, his gift of the merchant and the gift of eloquence bound to the silver necklace around his neck were far from combat oriented.

    Including Hugo, the Company numbered just two wagons and half a dozen individuals. There was Harriet, a straw-haired scarecrow of a woman who, at Novice rank, was the Company¡¯s only other full gifted. A professional teamster, her gifts of the rancher and the carpenter earned her the driver¡¯s seat of the second wagon, but her primary job was to take care of both the vehicles and the animals pulling them, four of the oversized, powerful goats preferred as draft animals by those who could afford them. The specially bred draft goats were less temperamental and stronger than donkeys, and significantly easier to keep fed than oxen.

    The rest of the staff had not even reached Novice level, and by most definitions, didn¡¯t even count as gifted. There was a pair of sandy-haired youths just a year or so older than Oliver, brothers who were working for Hugo in pursuit of the expertise they needed to get their own gift of the merchant, and a couple of massive, blocky porters, each blessed with the gift of the laborer.

    For the highborn Oliver, it was a stark reminder of how rare gifts were among commoners. Many lowborn would only ever earn a single gift, all they needed to accommodate their chosen profession. Some, like Hugo, would augment that gift with an ensouled item in the hopes of leveling up, but that only served to trap them in the lower levels. It would take years of inspired trading, or a stroke of extraordinary luck, for the merchest to accumulate the wealth needed to raise his gift of eloquence to Initiate level. The gift, and its charm boon, were as valuable to aristocrats as they were to merchants, with even Oliver¡¯s own father having the same gift.

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    What Oliver didn¡¯t understand was why they didn¡¯t at least make the effort to get a gift from one of the Greater Triad, the archetypes who were the least restricted in bestowing their powers, like the Warrior. Beryl had to explain it to him when he brought it up one day.

    ¡°You¡¯re still thinking like a nobleman,¡± Beryl told him with a sneer. Oliver had never explained his past to the two girls, but they clearly knew his origins somehow. He still wasn¡¯t sure if Farris had told them some of his history or if they had just gathered it from his mannerisms. ¡°You were always destined to be a battle-gifted of some kind, right?¡±

    Oliver nodded, not understanding. ¡°Sure, but still! I mean look at those two,¡± he gestured at the shape of the two large, sturdy porters walking alongside Harriet¡¯s wagon. ¡°The gift of the brawler or the guardian would complement the laborer perfectly well, and it would give them the ability to protect themselves on the road, and to level up.¡±

    Beryl rolled her eyes. ¡°And when would they train for that? The Mage and the Warrior alike require a starting point¨Cyou need to showcase your skill as a warrior, or your knowledge of magic. How many years did you train for before you tried for a gift from the Warrior? How would they afford the cost or time for that sort of training?¡±

    Oliver frowned. ¡°I suppose¡­ but there¡¯s still the Primal.¡±

    ¡°Sure, the Primal doesn¡¯t require any training, but it requires a certain amount of courage. Think about it. What life do you think there is for a porter who breaks his arm or gets crippled trying to earn the gift of earth?¡± Beryl held up a hand before Oliver could rebut again. ¡°I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s impossible. But it¡¯s an uphill battle for them in a way it just wasn¡¯t for you.¡±

    ¡°Or for us,¡± Rose called out from the driver¡¯s seat.

    Beryl acknowledged the point with a curt grunt. ¡°It¡¯s possible they¡¯ll get to Novice one day¨Ca lot of caravaners tend to end up with a gift from the Primal by accident, somewhere along the way. A bad storm whips up out of nowhere, you manage to survive it, and suddenly you¡¯ve got the gift of water. Same for the Warrior blessing the survivors of some monster attacks. But it¡¯s just as likely they¡¯ll never get a second gift, and it doesn¡¯t matter. As simple porters, they make enough money to live comfortably.¡±

    ¡°Not everyone needs to be battle-gifted,¡± Rose added. ¡°If they were, we wouldn¡¯t be so respected.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s frown deepened, but he didn¡¯t argue. They were right, of course¨Che had simply never thought about it before. Another symptom of his privileged upbringing.

    #

    Every few days, the caravan stopped in another hamlet. As the route¡¯s name implied, the Flax Road connected many little communities that specialized in the various steps of making both magical and mundane clothes. Farming communities that grew the highway¡¯s eponymous crop were most common, with sparsely-spaced mill towns built along rivers serving as hubs for both trading and spinning the flax into linen.

    In each settlement, they¡¯d set up shop for at least a couple days. Hugo and his employees would use this time for trading, selling essentials like tools, clothes, and weapons, items that the locals couldn¡¯t easily manufacture themselves, as well as luxuries like sugar and spices. In turn, he¡¯d pick up healthy amounts of the local goods. Not just flax, which he could sell at the mill towns for a small but tidy profit, but also reagents and herbs that the villagers had gathered in the surrounding wilds.

    These breaks in the routine were key to maintaining the sanity of the three youths. Confident of Hugo¡¯s security within the villages, they¡¯d set off for the local wilds, hoping for the chance to find some minor monsters. More often than not, they found little more than private places to do some real training, but even that was a blessing.

    On one of these nights, they found themselves atop a small hill a couple miles from the town they had recently stopped at as the sun was setting.

    ¡°Why bother heading all the way back to town?¡± Beryl asked. The brawny girl gestured around the hilltop. Apparently something of a known spot despite its distance from the village, it boasted a quaint, charred firepit circled by stones, with several conspicuously flat-topped logs surrounding it. ¡°This is a perfect place to spend the night. Better than some cramped little inn room.¡±

    Oliver winced and looked around the hilltop, not quite as impressed with its rustic charms as Beryl was. ¡°Really? We¡¯ve been on the road for days, it could be nice to sleep in a bed for the night¡­¡±

    Rose and Beryl traded a look, the larger girl rolling her eyes while the slender Rose grinned. Oliver caught their expression and frowned, suddenly self-conscious.

    While Oliver tried to put on a brave face, the truth was that the trip was unlike anything he had done before. He had picked up, somewhere along the way, the Beryl and Rose had spent plenty of time on the road, but he had barely left Elliven prior to setting out with Adeline. Their trip down the Lumber Road to Correntry had involved roughing it for a few nights, but as they were traveling along a major trade route, they were able to find accommodations more often than not. The Flax Road had fewer stops along it, and as Hugo tried to maximize their mileage every day they were on the move, Oliver had found himself having to camp out more often than he ever had before.

    Rose spared him from defending himself, her grin softening a touch. ¡°C¡¯mon Oli, it¡¯ll be nice! We can get a little fire going, and tell stories. It¡¯ll be so much more relaxing than being stuffed in some stinky inn!¡±

    The pale girl grabbed his hand, her expression earnest, and he felt his cheeks color a little. Finally, he reluctantly nodded. ¡°Okay, I guess we can stay.¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± Rose¡¯s smile was dazzling when he agreed. ¡°Beryl, you wanna make us a smooth place to lay out our bedrolls while Oli and I go find some firewood?¡±

    It took only an hour to set up the campsite, and soon the three of them sat around a cheery little fire, sharing a bottle of some burning root liquor Beryl had picked up a couple villages back. Rose made a face every time she took a small sip, and the taste of it made Oliver wince with each drink too. But it burned down to his bones in a comforting way, and he soon found himself relaxing like he hadn¡¯t since they left Correntry, the discomfort of the bugs and dirt and another night sleeping on the ground forgotten in the blur of alcohol and wood smoke.

    Encouraged by the drink, Oliver soon found himself talking without a thought to his etiquette lessons. ¡°You two mind if I ask you something?¡±

    Rose and Beryl shared a look, and Beryl shrugged.

    ¡°Of course, Oli,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°I was just wondering how you ended up with Farris. Living this life.¡±

    Beryl grunted and took a swig from the bottle. ¡°Tit for tat?¡±

    Oliver arched an eyebrow, and Rose giggled at the confusion on his face. ¡°She means we¡¯ll share if you do the same.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Oliver blushed slightly, his mild embarrassment magnified by the alcohol. ¡°Sure, that¡¯s fair.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Well¡­¡± Rose looked around their makeshift camp, as if unsure where to start. Beryl spoke up after a moment instead.

    ¡°Our parents were teamsters out of Dela,¡± the larger girl explained. While Rose¡¯s wandering eyes gave the impression of distraction, Beryl¡¯s gaze was solemnly fixed on the crackling fire in front of her. ¡°The Brass Orchid Company.¡±

    ¡°They were about the same size as Hugo¡¯s company, actually,¡± Rose commented with a little smile. She was looking up at the night sky as she spoke. ¡°Two wagons, just the four of them and the occasional short-term hire.¡±

    ¡°And us,¡± Beryl added.

    ¡°And us. My parents were the actual merchants. My mom was a weaver, my dad was a trader. Beryl¡¯s dads were the guards and porters.¡±

    Oliver remembered Beryl¡¯s expression when she talked about caravaners accidentally getting gifts, and guessed, ¡°Did they get a Primal gift in a storm then?¡±

    Beryl snorted, and looked up from the fire to give the boy a small, grim smile. ¡°One did, yeah. My other dad was a swiner.¡± Her eyes drifted back down to the fire and the smile fell away before she muttered, ¡°Not that it did them any good.¡±

    ¡°Monsters?¡±

    ¡°Monsters,¡± Rose confirmed. ¡°A manticore, we found out later. It was moderate rank, and a strong one at that. None of them were ready for it.¡±

    Both girls fell quiet, and Oliver did the same. He knew better than to interrupt their shared moment of painful remembrance.

    ¡°We only survived because a warden patrol happened to be nearby. They caught wind of the battle, and raced over as fast as they could, but¡­¡±

    ¡°They were too late.¡± Rose¡¯s voice was empty of all emotion as she continued. ¡°My parents died trying to distract it, to keep it away from us, after it had gone through Beryl¡¯s dads. That was how we met Farris, actually.¡±

    ¡°How long ago was that?¡±

    ¡°Years, now. She took us to an orphanage in Correntry, but she kept an eye on us. Came by every month or so, bought us lunch or gave us some little present she had stumbled on¡­¡±

    ¡°She blamed herself.¡± Beryl shook her head. ¡°She never said it, but it wasn¡¯t hard to figure out. She was convinced that if she had been faster we wouldn¡¯t have¡­ that our parents would¡¯ve-¡± her voice cut off in a hard crack, and Rose put a gentle hand on her friend¡¯s arm.

    The smaller girl¡¯s voice was hollow and detached. ¡°When we were old enough for our gifts, half a year or so back, she came again, and asked if we wanted to train with her. To join her. And we were happy to do it.¡±

    ¡°No one should die on the road like that,¡± Beryl snarled.

    ¡°And here we are.¡±

    Oliver nodded. He didn¡¯t know what to say. Slowly, over the course of a few minutes, Beryl took deep breaths, collecting herself. Oliver suspected she was ashamed of the tears she had spilled. The powerful girl had turned her pain into fuel, and pretended it made her strong. He knew the feeling.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he finally said.

    ¡°It was a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°Still.¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± Beryl all but growled, her voice still thick with the dull edge of her tears. She took another long swallow from the bottle. ¡°Tit for tat, remember. Your turn.¡±

    Oliver nodded. ¡°Right, yeah. Of course.¡± He had stirred up all of these emotions for the two of them, and he knew that they were asking for a distraction from the memories. At the very least, he decided that he could manage that much.

    ¡°So, it was the first day of spring, and I was set to duel this boy¡­¡±

 Chapter 35 - Oliver

    ¡°My, my, my, look at that. It¡¯s beautiful.¡± Hugo¡¯s eyes glittered with undisguised avarice. ¡°Still, you can¡¯t expect five full mantles for it.¡±

    ¡°Of course I can! I¡¯ve been to Correntry too, Hugo, I know what a totem is worth!¡±

    Oliver sat nearby on an empty crate and watched the merchant¡¯s exchange with one of the village¡¯s hunters. The man was powerfully built, with his hair and beard alike starting to show a thorough dusting of salt and pepper, and he loomed over the paunchy trader. Oliver took him to be the chief hunter of Barool, the little village they found themselves in.

    Despite their difference in builds, Hugo stared stubbornly up at the man without a trace of fear. ¡°It¡¯s worth what you can get for it.¡± He turned his eyes back to the totem the man held in his hands, an intricate knot of horns that looked as if a stag¡¯s antlers had somehow been woven together. The totem represented the condensed magic of an arcane creature, some kind of magical deer, and was capable of imparting an appropriate relic gift.

    ¡°Deer is far from a popular gift, you know,¡± Hugo continued. ¡°And this totem¡¯s capped at just Apprentice. I¡¯d be more likely to get three mantles for it, if I¡¯m lucky.¡±

    The chief hunter¡¯s face clouded over. ¡°Three mantles!?¡±

    ¡°Which means I could only offer you one and a half.¡±

    ¡°Unacceptable, merchant! One of my men was nearly killed taking down this monster, I won¡¯t take less than three mantles!¡±

    ¡°Injured taking down a stag? That must be quite the story.¡±

    The man huffed indignantly. ¡°It was a stormstrike stag! I¡¯d like to see you do better trying to feather a beast what can fry you with a bolt of lightning from a hundred yards!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m quite sure I couldn¡¯t, which is why I leave such endeavors to you and yours.¡± Hugo remained unflappably calm, even in the face of the man¡¯s growing anger. ¡°I can do a hundred scepters, that¡¯s my best offer. Look, I¡¯ve got a decent healing potion or two I stocked up on in Correntry, I¡¯ll even throw one in for your injured man, out of good will.¡±

    Oliver arched an eyebrow, intrigued at the man¡¯s offer. A hundred silver scepters were worth about ten gilts, or two full gold mantles¨Cat least, out in the heartlands. In any major city, a moneychanger would charge closer to sixty or seventy scepters per mantle, as most bulk traders would refuse the numerous, lower value silver coins. Hugo¡¯s company wasn¡¯t large, but the man was impressively shrewd.

    ¡°A hundred scepters, the potion¡­¡± the hunter licked his lips thoughtfully, clearly mulling over what he thought he could wring out of the merchant, ¡°and my choice of goods from your stock, up to another score of scepters.¡±

    Hugo narrowed his eyes, and quickly countered, ¡°Ninety scepters.¡±

    ¡°Ninety, the potion, twenty-five silver worth of goods.¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡± Hugo shook the man¡¯s hand brusquely, accepted the totem carefully, and watched with satisfaction as the hunter stormed off.

    Oliver hopped off of his makeshift seat and made his way over to the merchant, miming applause. ¡°Quite the deal, merchant.¡±

    Hugo¡¯s dark eyes glittered with amusement, but he replied begrudgingly, ¡°Perhaps. He still had me for over two mantles. I¡¯ll be lucky to make a single gold coin off the deal.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Maybe.¡± Oliver nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Of course, our fine master hunter likely doesn¡¯t know what current city exchange rates are like, or that you bought all your goods for twenty percent less than what you¡¯re valuing them for. Or that any sentinel cadre worth their salt would snatch up a deer gift in an instant to give to a scout, regardless of the low cap.¡±

    The paunchy man¡¯s eyes narrowed, and the fact that he had to look upwards didn¡¯t soften his glare. ¡°If you¡¯re saying that anyone with the gall to barter over their valuables would be best off knowing their true worth, I would agree.¡±

    Oliver laughed, but the sound had a hard edge to it. ¡°Maybe, maybe. I suspect you¡¯ll indeed get five mantles easily for a totem like that. Nearly triple your investment.¡±

    ¡°Seems a bit optimistic.¡± Hugo had clearly heard the note of warning in the boy¡¯s voice, and his words had become more careful in response.

    ¡°Maybe. As you¡¯re no doubt aware, I¡¯m no master merchant.¡± Oliver gave the stout man a direct look. ¡°Far be it for me to step in the way of your business. But still. I¡¯d expect any man I¡¯m risking my life to protect would at least be generous enough to ensure that the wounded man is fully recovered before we leave.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think your master would appreciate you abandoning this job, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re implying.¡±

    ¡°No. No, she wouldn¡¯t,¡± Oliver admitted with another small laugh. ¡°But I doubt she¡¯ll have much to say if I accidentally insert myself into more of your business dealings going forward. I expect she¡¯d approve of me broadening my education.¡±

    Hugo stayed silent for a moment. ¡°I suppose I can spare another potion or two for the poor man. Out of fairness.¡±

    ¡°Most generous of you. Sir.¡±

    Hugo rolled his eyes and stomped away, grumbling under his breath. Oliver reflected that he looked little more pleased than the hunter had.

    ¡°The first principle of compromise,¡± he muttered to himself, remembering a book of diplomacy he had studied years before. ¡°No one should leave the table happy, just satisfied.¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    #

    ¡°I found it!¡± Oliver claimed, abruptly standing from his seat in the back of the wagon and pointing at a passage in the The Travels of Elben Trellay.

    Rose turned from the driver¡¯s seat of the wagon, where she was sitting with Beryl, forehead resting casually against the larger girl¡¯s arm. ¡°Found what?¡± she asked, her voice sleepy.

    ¡°Oh¡­ were you sleeping?¡±

    ¡°Dozing,¡± Rose answered, lifting a delicate hand to cover her yawn. ¡°So this better be worth it.¡±

    ¡°It is. I think I figured out what we¡¯re hunting.¡±

    That got both girls¡¯ attention. Oliver eagerly scrambled forward along the wagon bed and held the book out to Rose, using a thumb to hold it open to the right page.

    ¡°¡®Hexhunter cats,¡± Rose read from the passage he pointed her towards, ¡°are an exceptionally rare lesser monster, generally produced by the magic of a sufficiently arcane hunting cat becoming hunger-aspected¡­¡¯ Interesting...¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna need to slow down for me,¡± Beryl groused. ¡°Not all of us spend our time reading magic books for fun. What exactly does ¡®hunger-aspected¡¯ mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s referring to ambient life magic that¡¯s been altered by the intrinsic nature of an arcane beast,¡± Rose explained absently, still reading the passage on the hexhunter cat.

    Oliver grinned at the cross look Rose¡¯s offhand reply drew from the other warden trainee. ¡°Okay, so you know ambient magic, right?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah. The magic that¡¯s, y¡¯know, everywhere.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. So that ambient magic is tied into life on an intrinsic level. Some scholars actually claim that life couldn¡¯t exist without magic, while others claim it¡¯s the other way around. Either way, most mages agree that magic is life-aspected by default, right Rose?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± The petite girl looked up, suddenly noticing she was being addressed.

    ¡°Life magic. That¡¯s your whole field of expertise, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Yeah. It¡¯s why low level animism is so easy. Life magic is everywhere.¡±

    ¡°But what does that mean? You keep saying ¡®aspected,¡¯ I don¡¯t get it.¡± Beryl complained.

    ¡°Think of it like¡­ the affinity of the magic. Most ambient magic supports life, so it¡¯s referred to as life-aspected. I don¡¯t know, I was only ever taught it in a broad sense.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re pretty much right. For your purposes, at least.¡± Rose gave Beryl a sidelong look. ¡°Just know that most magic supports life by default. It¡¯s part of living things being born and growing up. My healing magic, animism, uses life-aspected magic to accelerate healing, and all gifted use it passively to empower our attributes.¡±

    Beryl nodded slowly. ¡°Okay. Let''s say I understand that. What does that have to do with monsters?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Oliver continued his explanation, ¡°native magical beings, or monsters, use life magic similarly to our attributes. They absorb life magic, and channel it into a specific form to improve themselves. But because animals and plants don¡¯t have souls like humans do, the process has a couple key differences. First, it takes a lot more time for most animals to absorb enough life magic to become arcane beasts. Decades, even, since they don¡¯t have gifts to soak in the magic all at once. Secondly, because they don¡¯t have a soul or gifts to guide how the magic works, their changes tend to be simpler. It makes them better at what they already do. A lot of arcane beasts just get bigger, stronger, tougher.¡±

    ¡°So this cat is some sort of super old hunting cat?¡±

    ¡°Not at all.¡± Rose shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re not very good at explanations, Oli.¡±

    Oliver pursed his lips. ¡°I wanted to make sure we had a good starting point!¡±

    ¡°Sure you did.¡± Rose rolled her eyes. ¡°Oli¡¯s technically right, but the vast majority of monsters don¡¯t actually form like that. The most common types of monsters are minor monsters, after all. Dire vermin and bramble-spawn are made respectively from small animals or large bugs¨Crats, spiders, bats, that kind of thing¨Cand from weeds. Because they have much shorter lifespans and grow much more rapidly than most animals, they are more prone to absorbing enough life magic to quickly trigger a transformation into a monster.¡±

    ¡°But in the course of changing them, the little buggers change the magic right back. That¡¯s what we call aspecting¨Cchanging magic from one affinity to another. In the case of dire vermin and bramble-spawn, they tend to be ruled by one overwhelming urge: hunger. And so, we get hunger-aspected magic.¡±

    Beryl nodded thoughtfully, and Rose flashed a triumphant grin at Oliver. He rolled his eyes. If Rose had just explained clearly in the first place, he wouldn¡¯t have needed to stumble through it by himself. Beryl wasn¡¯t as learned as her companions, but she was far from slow, and he could see the wheels turning in her head.

    ¡°So if this cat has hunger-aspected magic¡­ it caught and ate a bunch of dire vermin right? The magic is all about eating, so by getting eaten, it changed the cat?¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Rose said excitedly. ¡°Even mundane hunting cats with no impactful magical buildup are dangerous predators. If one is clever enough, it can still successfully catch and eat dire vermin. If it catches enough of them, that hunger-aspected magic it¡¯s consuming is able to transform it and,¡± she jabbed a finger at the book, ¡°we get a hexhunter cat.¡±

    Beryl¡¯s eyes went wide, and she looked from the book to Oliver. ¡°So what makes you think this is what we¡¯re looking for?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, magic generally changes an animal by emphasizing their pre-existing traits. Hunting cats are already ambush predators, so getting sensory and stealth magic would make sense, and it would line up with the reported attacks. It would be smart enough to avoid an overpowering foe, and skilled enough to avoid pursuit. But what really settles it is where the name ¡®hexhunter¡¯ comes from.¡±

    ¡°¡®I¡¯ve decided to name the creatures hexhunters,¡¯¡± Rose read from the book, ¡°¡®after an interesting dietary preference I¡¯ve noted in their hunting habits. As their transformation was prompted by killing and devouring magical creatures, they are drawn to do the same in their new state. Pre-Novice and Novice level gifted suit it perfectly well when it can get them in isolation, but its favorite fodder is totem relics. These items have enough concentrated magic to serve as a veritable feast to the hexhunter, and have proven fantastic bait to lure them out of hiding.¡¯¡±

    ¡°I read it weeks ago and didn¡¯t think anything of it,¡± Oliver explained, ¡°but back in Barool, I watched Hugo haggle over a deer totem. That made me remember the entry, and I started thinking about it. It fits perfectly.¡±

    ¡°Any trader worth their name would make sure to pick up a totem relic if they had the chance. It¡¯s easy money when they get back to a city.¡± Beryl''s eyes went wide as she experienced the same realization as Oliver.

    ¡°Meaning that any trader that did pick one up would be like a beacon to this thing,¡± Rose concluded.

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Oliver nodded enthusiastically. ¡°That¡¯s why the attacks have been so inconsistent! It¡¯s probably stalking up and down the Flax Road, looking for suitable prey. Minor monsters, gifted when it can catch them alone, and any totem relic it can sink its teeth into.¡±

    ¡°Not just totems either,¡± Beryl added. ¡°Some of these villages have artisans capable of making ensouled items. The traders would snatch those up to, and they¡¯ve got just as much innate magic as totems.¡±

    ¡°So what does this mean?¡± Rose asked, rereading the passage on the hexhunter.

    ¡°We have a good idea of what we¡¯re dealing with, and Hugo just picked up its bait. That means we can prepare for it to attack sometime soon, and we know where it¡¯ll go.¡±

    ¡°Hugo¡¯s wagon. He¡¯d never let a totem out of easy reach,¡± Beryl said.

    ¡°It should be easy enough. Beryl holds it off, Rose keeps it from running away, I take care of it quick. Lesser monster or no, with this many special abilities, it can¡¯t be too resilient.¡±

    ¡°Assuming it¡¯s still only lesser,¡± Rose pointed out.¡±This book of yours speculates that if a hexhunter was to roam free for long enough, it might be able to develop into a moderate monster. There¡¯s no way three Novices could take on something like that.¡±

    Beryl huffed a bemused breath. ¡°It assumes you¡¯re even right in the first place! Just because it makes sense doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s the only possibility.¡±

    Oliver shrugged noncommittally. She wasn¡¯t wrong. ¡°It¡¯s a step closer than we were before, if nothing else.¡±

 Chapter 36 - Tenebres

    Each of the three great trade cities specialized in different goods. Situated in the middle of the heartlands, Correntry served as the trade hub for many of the farming villages in the area, in addition to anchoring the Flax and Lumber Roads. Farther north, amongst the rocky hills of the region known as the frontier, Alvanny collected the stone, gems, and ores mined throughout the rugged northern reaches of the Realm. As the coastal trade city, Emeston was just as defined by its location. First and foremost, it dominated the fishing trade.

    Westerlen, one of the bastion cities, had a similar claim to the trade, but its close proximity to the dangerous islands of the Tidal Wastes made it a poor candidate for a bustling trading hub. As such, over three-quarters of the fishing villages that dotted the Realm¡¯s western and southern coastline would haul their catches to Emeston for preservation and shipping inland.

    Emeston¡¯s docks, grown over decades to facilitate the seafood market, were its most famous feature, as over a mile of coastline had been progressively converted to host hundreds of ships, complete with drydocks serviced by a small army of shipwrights. Along the docks were a seemingly endless series of pubs, brothels, and inns of vastly varying quality¨Call dedicated to serving the unending stream of fishermen and sailors that moved through Emeston¡¯s famed harbor.

    Every street that arched out from the waterfront boasted dozens of fishmongers, fish carts, fish stalls, fish smokers, and magically maintained ice houses (for preserving fish). The result was an almost physical odor of fish and salt and rotting seaweed and fish and sweat and smoke and fish.

    ¡°I. Hate. The. Docks.¡± Allana held her nose as she spoke, giving her voice a high nasal tone.

    ¡°Really?¡± Tenebres asked with a grin. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve told me that before. Go on.¡±

    Allana glared around her hand at the younger boy. In the weeks since they killed Algus, Tenebres had become Geoffrey¡¯s student just as much as Allana, and the pair spent most of their days practically joined at the hip. For a while, that had meant training together, as well as helping Geoffrey root out nests of minor monsters that they could handle. And of course, laughing the evenings away in each other¡¯s pleasant company and cheap ale.

    For lack of anywhere else to stay, Tenebres had even started consistently sleeping in the little apartment Geoffrey helped Allana afford. He may have just made due with a bedroll on the floor next to her bed, but it was still a step up from his first sleeping arrangements in the city. The thought of the crowded, reeking taproom where an innkeeper had charged a few rings a night to allow people to sleep on the floor still sticky with spilled ale made Tenebres shudder.

    Of late, however, their focus had begun to shift. Geoffrey was sure that Algus was not the only servitor in the city to boast the gift of flesh, and was convinced that finding another was key to tracking down their real target. Until they could find and kill the outsider actually bestowing the necromantic gifts, they would only continue to spread. Despite his best efforts, however, Geoffrey was unable to track down any likely candidates through his usual connections.

    ¡°Fortunately,¡± he had told them, ¡°there are places two street youths can go that a man like me cannot.¡±

    And so the two assassins-in-training found themselves crawling, day by day, through the reeking expanse of Emeston¡¯s docks, listening for any word that might lead them to their quarry. In this, Tenebres had proven the more successful of the pair, his charm boon making it easier to talk his way past the natural suspicion of the various fishmongers.

    ¡°Let¡¯s try this one,¡± Tenebres suggested, pointing his chin to one relatively unpopulated stall.

    ¡°Do we have to?¡± Allana complained. ¡°It stinks even worse than the others.¡±

    The merchant¡¯s stall did, indeed, seem behind on its maintenance, likely contributing to its shortage of customers. Tenebres had only a fleeting familiarity with artifice, but it was clear the man¡¯s chilltop needed to be fixed up. The piled ice on the engraved piece of slate was half melted, leaving a puddle on the ground and making the already ugly fish he was selling soggy and even more unappealing.

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Tenebres didn¡¯t explain any further. He confidently strode up the stall, making a show of looking over the gross, poorly trimmed fish, until the fishmonger approached him.

    ¡°Looking for a fine fish for the night, young master?¡± the hawker asked, his voice far more desperate than most of the loud, demanding traders that lined the street.

    ¡°Perhaps¡­¡± Tenebres mused. While he resented the gift that had been forced on him, he couldn¡¯t deny the usefulness of the charm boon it provided. Charm governed charisma and social awareness, and Tenebres found himself subconsciously adjusting his accent and lowering his voice as he spoke to the man. ¡°No better way to a lady¡¯s heart than a well-cooked meal, aye?¡±

    The man huffed a rough laugh, and his eyes briefly shot to Allana, looming several paces away, behind the smaller boy. ¡°And quite a lady she is! I¡¯ve no doubt you could make her something impressive indeed with one o¡¯these fine fish! Just five rings a piece!¡±

    It took all of Tenebres¡¯s self control to not goggle at the price. This close to the docks, five bronze rings would be enough to get a fresh, whole catch, no more than an hour out of the water. The man¡¯s soggy filets were scarce worth a single ring, if that.

    Unfortunately, saying such a thing would be a sure way to forfeit any chance Tenebres had at getting information out of the man, so he contained his first reaction, and instead mused quietly, as if to himself, ¡°Quite the high price¡­ I am in a rush, however¡­¡±

    The fishmonger¡¯s eyes glittered at the possible sale. ¡°A demanding lass, is she?¡± He asked with a leer at Allana. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what, young master, I can go as low as four rings, to save you the trouble.¡±

    ¡°Well, she certainly doesn¡¯t enjoy the docks!¡± Tenebres replied with a laugh. ¡°But no, I want to make my way uptown before the wardens get here, you know?¡±

    ¡°Wardens?¡± the fishmonger asked, leaning over the chilltop to strain towards the teenager. Clearly, like any peddler worth the name, the man was inveterate gossip. Just what Tenebres had hoped for.

    ¡°Why do you think the wardens would be crawling about this close to the docks?¡± he whispered in a gruff tone, scratching nervously at the stubble on his chin.

    ¡°Oh, I have little enough idea,¡± Tenebres replied with a shrug. ¡°But I saw them going stall by stall on Salt and Sand,¡± he named the next two streets over, ¡°so I rushed over here to try to make my purchases before they make it this far down.¡±

    ¡°Damned gray cloaks, harassing honest men¡­¡± the hawker growled. Warden inspections were uncommon, but were likely to cost him the last couple hours of business before sundown¨Cin addition to whatever contraband he no doubt had hidden behind his stall.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit to some curiosity¡­¡± Tenebres mused again, still speaking as if he was thinking out loud. When the man didn¡¯t follow up on the obvious hint, he looked up and added, ¡°Were my curiosity sated, I might find myself a tad bit more hungry.¡±

    The fishmonger¡¯s eyes narrowed¨Cbut he clearly still bought Tenebres¡¯s story. ¡°Well, there has been a bit of gossip. But the idea of losing so much fish doesn¡¯t exactly make me talkative, aye?¡±

    Tenebres resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The man had the subtlety of a boar in rut. He reached into his vest, where a hidden pocket held a small portion of the allowance Geoffrey had offered them to help in buying any information. He pressed a scepter down¨Cfully twice the man¡¯s asking price, if not more¨Cbut kept one finger on the silver coin as he looked up at the man expectedly.

    The fishmonger¡¯s eyes shot up and down the road, ensuring their privacy, and he leaned ever closer to Tenebres. His breath stank of old fish and bad beer, and Tenebres abruptly found himself agreeing with Allana¡¯s estimation of the docks. ¡°I hear tell a coupl¡¯a days back, one of the boats came in with one of those fishmen. Y¡¯know, a real outsider. But the next day, the carcass goes missing. Were I a gambling man, I might think they were looking for it.¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ¡°What pier was the ship docked at?¡±

    The fishmonger growled, and his eyes looked down meaningfully at the coin Tenebres still held a finger over. He clearly wasn¡¯t buying Tenebres¡¯s interest as incidental anymore.

    The slender wraith added a second coin to the pile, this time making no effort to hide the roll of his eyes. Reluctantly, Tenebres lifted his fingers from the coins.

    The fishmonger grunted, and the two silver coins seemed to disappear. ¡°Coral street, pier two.¡±

    ¡°My thanks.¡± Tenebres turned to leave without another word.

    ¡°Your fish, young master?¡± the man called after him.

    ¡°Throw them in the sewer, save anyone from the danger of eating them!¡±

    Allana watched Tenebres saunter back over to her with a grin, waving over his shoulder in farewell. ¡°Well, that seemed to go well.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lead, at least. Be happy I didn¡¯t decide to buy you dinner, too.¡±

    Allana wrinkled her face, and the two turned towards the Coral Street pier.

    #

    ¡°There they are¡­¡± Tenebres muttered, watching a table of boisterous sailors from across the busy taproom.

    ¡°Do you think you sound intelligent when you state the obvious?¡± Allana asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Tenebres grumbled back.

    After half a dozen careful conversations, several veiled threats backed by Allana¡¯s reputation, and nearly a full mantle in bribes, the pair had found out that the ship that had brought in the outsider corpse, the Wicked Flit, had abruptly left port only a couple days before, manned only by a skeleton crew. They were unable to learn much more¨Cthe Flit¡¯s captain had, for whatever reason, gone to great lengths to keep his goings on secret. Fortunately, his abrupt departure had left behind a small number of his usual crew who had proven significantly less tight-lipped. Tenebres guessed it only was thanks to the talkative sailors that they had heard anything at all.

    All in all, the search took several hours, and it was long past dark by the time they made their way to the Salted Strand, a pub that catered to sailors on dockleave. A hot day of frustrating conversations and the worst of the waterfront¡¯s smells and residents had left the two irritated, and the Strand was not exactly a relaxing place to end the day. It was grimy and dangerous, even by the standards of Lowrun, but the Violet Edge¡¯s reputation had carried even to the docks, and a few pointed stares were sufficient to get Allana and Tenebres a corner table, looking out at the busy taproom, and at the half dozen drunken sailors busy telling a boisterous story to any who would listen.

    ¡°So now what?¡± Tenebres asked. ¡°I think we need a little more than whatever nonsense they¡¯re spinning for the rest of the damned pub.¡±

    ¡°Hmm? Your genius plan didn¡¯t extend this far?¡± Allana hummed in mock surprise.

    Tenebres rolled his eyes. ¡°Do I need to remind you I¡¯m not exactly a master at hunting for a human needle in a giant, fetid haystack?¡±

    ¡°But you are a master of wordplay, that was quite the metaphor.¡±

    ¡°We need to wrap this up,¡± Tenebres huffed, ¡°you¡¯re just being mean now.¡±

    Allana showed her teeth in a tight grin.

    ¡°Okay, so clearly you have an idea. Please tell me it¡¯s better than starting a fight on three-to-one odds?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be worse than that. If we started something, the rest of the room would be on us like that.¡± Allana snapped to emphasize her point. ¡°No, no, we need something more¡­ subtle.¡±

    ¡°You know, it¡¯s odd, but for an assassin with the gifts of stealth and poison, ¡®subtle¡¯ isn¡¯t the first word I¡¯d use to describe you,¡± Tenebres taunted, nudging her knee under the table with his own.

    Allana bared her teeth again, acknowledging the taunt, and stood up with a wink.

    Tenebres couldn¡¯t help but watch as the girl swayed across the taproom to the bar. He just hoped his eyes wouldn¡¯t actually fall out of his head. Every step she took showed off the taut muscle of her legs, and the skintight leather of her short pants. Each was accompanied by a pleasant jingle from the numerous charms and bracelets she wore on her ankles and wrists alike¨Caccessories which never seemed to make a sound when she needed them quiet, oddly enough.

    His were far from the only eyes to watch her progress. Allana was attractive even at her most professional, but for whatever reason, her stride at that moment seemed all but designed to draw the eye to her smooth legs, the curves of her hips, her bouncing-

    Tenebres tore his gaze away from her and took a hasty swallow of lukewarm beer to distract himself, wincing as the taste reminded him exactly why he had been avoiding doing so.

    Across the room, Allana had reached the bar and bent forward, leaning on her folded arms while she talked with one of the serving girls. She was a pretty blonde, her pale skin showing more heartland ancestry than coastal, and her constant work through the busy pub had flushed her cheeks prettily. He couldn¡¯t hear what Allana said to her over the next few minutes, but as he watched the way the barmaid grinned and even laughed at the Apprentice assassin, Tenebres found himself wondering if Allana might be more sun-leaning than he had thought.

    She had made jokes about despising men plenty, but given the attention and even the flirtations she offered Tenebres, he hadn¡¯t thought¡­ Still, there was no real denying that she was hitting on the serving girl. And quite successfully, from the look of things.

    After several minutes, Allana finally stood up, and if Tenebres hadn¡¯t been watching so closely, he doubted that he would¡¯ve seen the small bottle she slipped to the girl, leaving her with a recognizable look of hopeful longing as Allana stalked away.

    ¡°What exactly did you just do?¡± he asked the moment Allana sat down.

    She shrugged her shoulders carelessly. ¡°I think I got a date.¡±

    Tenebres gritted his teeth. ¡°Besides that?¡±

    Allana arched an eyebrow, clearly taking note of his tone. ¡°I slipped her a bottle of nightstalk, and she¡¯s going to slip some of it into our loud friends¡¯ drinks for the next few rounds.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re going to¡­ kill them?¡± Tenebres snorted. ¡°I see what you mean by subtle.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill them, Seo.¡±

    She still often insisted on using his false name, claiming a preference for it despite the way she had teased him for coming up with it in the first place.

    ¡°Besides,¡± she had once told him when he questioned it, ¡°Tenebres is a mouthful.¡±

    ¡°Nightstalk is a stamina poison,¡± Allana explained quietly, leaning closer to keep their conversation private. ¡°In the tiny little doses Mari there is going to give to them, it¡¯s going to tire them out rapidly. All but one of them, that is.¡±

    Tenebres raised his eyebrows, impressed. ¡°So when one lingers around after his friends go to an early rest¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have a perfect chance to get him alone and ask some questions.¡±

    Tenebres nodded, then watched as the blonde girl, Mari, carried the next round of drinks out to the table. ¡°So¡­ small doses. How long exactly is that going to take?¡±

    ¡°Not too long, I hope.¡± Allana winked at Tenebres. ¡°I¡¯m ready to get to the other part of my deal with Mari.¡±

 Chapter 37 - Allana

    It took three rounds of ale over the next hour before the effects of the nightstalk made themselves known. The sailors¡¯ words began to grow more and more slurred, far more quickly than the seasoned men should¡¯ve been affected by the watered-down ale. Still, with just a mere drop per tankard, the poison proved a subtle enough effect that none of them seemed to take particular note of it.

    This particular poison was one of several vials Allana had accrued over the years. She looked forward to when she¡¯d be able to produce specific potions like nightstalk with her gift abilities, but that was supposed to be an Initiate improvement of her ability. Until then, she could only make a potentially lethal resilience poison with her gift, but she made a habit of collecting other poisons when she had the opportunity to expand her repertoire.

    ¡°At least they¡¯re drinking like thirsty mules,¡± Allana noted derisively.

    ¡°Mhmm.¡±

    Allana studied Tenebres through narrowed eyes at the unenthusiastic response. Normally, the two would pass the time with some bantering or light conversation while they waited, but Tenebres suddenly seemed unwilling to indulge in their usual flirting. He had stubbornly ignored all of her attempts to engage him since she had come back from her conversation with Mari.

    Allana¡¯s eyes narrowed as she thought about the timeline of his mood shift. Was he really that sensitive? Just because she was trying to tumble a pretty barmaid? Allana was ready to call out his sulking¨Cbut then she heard what she had been waiting for.

    As promised, Mari had managed to keep one of the men from getting any dosage of his own, and he had waved the serving girl down.

    ¡°Wench!¡± He called. ¡°Another round for me and me friends!¡±

    ¡°Aye, I heard ya!¡± Mari shouted back as she walked by, but she didn¡¯t get far before a couple of the other men groaned out refusals.

    ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯m ready to call it, Gert,¡± one of the drugged sailors decided, as another stifled a yawn behind a hand.

    ¡°Oi, are you serious? It¡¯s barely ninth bell, what are you talkin¡¯ about?¡±

    The lone sailor, apparently Gert, that had been spared the nightstalk proved as stubborn as Allana had hoped, and she watched gleefully as the man insisted on another round for himself, hurling insults at his companions as they gathered and left the tavern.

    [Gift of Poison] experienced gained

    Experience: 65%

    ¡°Ready?¡± Allana asked Tenebres.

    The boy blinked, finally pulled out of his brooding, and his large, expressive crimson eyes came into sudden focus. His gaze darted around, and he noticed the departure of the bulk of the sailors. ¡°Right. Yeah, yeah let¡¯s go.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes, but restrained herself from teasing him. She was still new to this budding friendship, but she suspected that he wouldn¡¯t appreciate her usual banter at the moment.

    That sort of restraint was new to Allana, and she found she didn¡¯t particularly like it. She was used to speaking her mind, and she liked that Tenebres was usually willing to keep up with her conversationally. Few boys, or men, in Lowtown had managed to spar with her verbally.

    We definitely need to have a talk, Allana decided.

    For now, however, they had work to do. Without another word, the two stood and moved across the taproom. They knew each other well enough even after such a short time that they didn¡¯t feel the need to coordinate. As they approached the sailor¡¯s table, Allana hung back a couple steps, letting Tenebres lead the way.

    The slender boy hooked an ankle around the chair directly to Gert¡¯s left and sat down.

    ¡°Well hullo there¡­¡± the man growled in what he probably thought was an attractive way. Then he blinked, and Allana smirked at the moment it took him to figure out Tenebres¡¯s gender. ¡°Oi, wait. I ain¡¯t no moony guff, you clear off! You can find some other guy to buy you for the night!¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s eyes went flat, and Allana moved in before the boy could respond sharply. She settled easily on the other side of the crude sailor, and he whirled on her. His eyes narrowed for a second in evident lust¨Cthen widened as they recognized her.

    ¡°Y-you¡¯re the Purple Poison!¡± He gasped.

    Allana arched an eyebrow at the name.

    ¡°¡®The Purple Poison¡­¡¯¡± Tenebres echoed from the other side of the sailor. ¡°That¡¯s a new one.¡±

    Allana couldn¡¯t help but grin. His voice still sounded a little bitter, but it was good to see some spirit from the boy. ¡°I think I liked the Violet Edge more.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I still think there¡¯s something there with ¡®violet¡¯ and ¡®violent,¡¯ right?¡±

    ¡°Right. Because nothing¡¯s more intimidating than wordplay.¡±

    Tenebres tilted his head at Gert. The brawny, drunk man seemed stricken by her presence, and their light joking only seemed to be making him more disconcerted. ¡°He seems plenty intimidated.¡±

    ¡°And by the ¡®Purple Poison.¡¯¡± Allana shook her head. ¡°No accounting for taste, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Y-you¡¯re Telik¡¯s bitch!¡± Gert finally managed to gasp.

    Allana¡¯s eyes went flat, and before either man could react, Allana had slammed one of her conjured daggers into the table top in front of him.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t like that word very much,¡± Tenebres commented, as if making a casual observation.

    Allana swallowed thickly and tried to control herself, recognizing that Tenebres¡¯s joke was an attempt to cover for her. Allana hated that her reputation was intertwined with that of the feared crimelord, but fixing that would need to wait. For right now, she needed to make use of the old man¡¯s name, whether she liked it or not.

    ¡°Aye,¡± she finally growled. At the very least, the man seemed thoroughly intimidated now. She flashed a quick look around the room, and was satisfied to see that no one was willing to meet her eyes. Except Mari. But she didn¡¯t count. The two men drinking at the closest table to Gert¡¯s even made their way to the bar to give them space.

    ¡°I-I already told his thugs everything I know, I swear it!¡± Gert babbled.

    Allana met Tenebres¡¯s eyes for a moment, and his expressive face betrayed a tiny hint of his surprise. Clearly, he hadn¡¯t expected the crime lord¡¯s involvement any more than she had.

    Still, she didn¡¯t need a charm boon to take advantage of an opportunity that obvious. ¡°He feels otherwise,¡± she told the sailor, her voice quiet and threatening. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here, fool.¡±

    Tenebres leaned in from the other side, and managed his own attempt at sounding intimidating. To Allana, it sounded more than a little silly, but Gert seemed to buy it. ¡°So you¡¯re gonna go over every detail with us again, understand? And maybe, if my friend here is satisfied, she won¡¯t need to take her dagger back out.¡±

    ¡°F-fine, fine!¡± Gert nodded frantically, looking back and forth between them. ¡°On the Sailor, I told everything I know!¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Well, pretend we know nothing,¡± Allana ordered him. She had to keep her eyes off of Tenebres, knowing that his reaction to her phrasing might draw a grin out of her. Need to stay in character. ¡°Start from the beginning.¡±

    ¡°R-right! Whatever you want, okay? We were out on a fishing pass a week or so back, and one of our nets hauls up this nasty looking beasty! Vicious thing, all scales and teeth. It was bad business, but Cap¡¯n Ryehardt, he kept a few men with the right gifts for killin¡¯ things like that, and they did their job, right?¡±

    Allana nodded. She kept her face carefully blank, not giving away her curiosity of what this thing was, or how some fishers managed to kill it. She¡¯d never heard of an outsider appearing in the bay before¨Cand what kind of fishing captain kept battle-gifted on board? ¡°Keep going.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡¯m! Well, the Cap¡¯n, he decided to call the trip short, even though we only had half our chillhold full. Some men needed care, y¡¯see, and Ryehardt always did right by his men. A right honorable man, yessir, that¡¯s why me and the boys joined up with him.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes at the drunken man¡¯s inability to stay on topic, and Tenebres muttered, ¡°We care little for your opinions on the good captain, Gert. Continue.¡±

    Gert¡¯s eyes went wide, and he nodded eagerly. ¡°Oh, yep, yep, beggin¡¯ your pardons, o¡¯course. So, we turned sails and headed back to port. But the Cap¡¯n, he passed the word, he wanted everyone to stay quiet ¡®bout the fishman. Now, I thought that mighty queer at the time, cus the Cap¡¯n, he didn¡¯t explain nothing to the rest of us, just told us to keep our mouths shut. Now I know, course, cus you all came looking around, that he was gonna sell the body to your Old Man and didn¡¯t want any wardens peekin¡¯ in on the deal. Right common sense, that.¡±

    Allana and Tenebres traded a look around the sailor¡¯s bulk, and she knew he was as alarmed as she was. Telik wanted the body? Why would a crimelord want an outsider corpse? By now, Gert was all but babbling in drunken fear, and needed no further prompting to continue spilling his guts.

    ¡°But then, y¡¯know, the boat got attacked, while the rest of us was on shore leave, and they took the fishman with ¡®em!¡±

    ¡°By who?¡± Allana snapped without thinking.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, you gotta believe me! All I know is they gotta be pretty darned slick, y¡¯know? It was the middle of the night, not one man in four from the crew was on board, but the Cap¡¯n, he had kept the body watched since we got into port. One of his fighting men was at the door, and no one even heard him get himself killed!¡±

    Allana grit her teeth. No doubt the thief was, at the very least, connected to the other death gifted, but all of this still hadn¡¯t turned up any actual leads they could follow.

    ¡°What happened to the boat after?¡± Tenebres asked. He must¡¯ve known that just cutting out now would make the man suspicious, so he continued the interview while Allana was distracted by her irritation.

    ¡°The Cap¡¯n must¡¯ve known that your Old Man wouldn¡¯t be happy that his goods were gone and decided to cast off and find fairer waters,¡± Gert claimed. ¡°Me and my boys, we were part timers. We had only sailed with him a couple months, and he didn¡¯t bother sending for us. So, we figure, we don¡¯t owe him any Sailor-damned silence anymore. I don¡¯t got no reason to hide nothin¡¯ from you and yours, right? I don¡¯t want to be on the Old Man¡¯s bad side, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Allana snarled at him.

    Tenebres gave her a warning look, and she subsided. It would feel good to take out some of her frustrations on the crude man, but there was no profit in that. They needed to keep their involvement quiet, after all.

    ¡°We¡¯re satisfied,¡± Tenebres told him, ¡°for now. But if I were you, I wouldn¡¯t go thinking that this gets you off of Telik¡¯s blacklist.¡±

    Gert swallowed, and he threw a panicked look at Allana. She decided to encourage his fear and gave him the most sinister grin she could manage.

    Tenebres patted the man¡¯s shoulder sympathetically. ¡°You¡¯re telling people Telik¡¯s business, friend. That¡¯s not a great choice. I might recommend that you clear out of town for a bit. Find another boat that can take you and your friends, and see if you can find those calmer waters Ryeheardt went searching for.¡±

    ¡°Aye, aye, I take the point. I¡¯ll be off by first light, I swear!¡± The man went to stand, and Allana leaned back, letting him.

    Neither said anything as he fled the taproom without a look backwards. Finally, Allana said, ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s even going to bother waiting for his friends. Why¡¯d you add that bit though?¡±

    ¡°Our friend Gert seems to have chronically loose lips. I figured getting him out of town would be better than the fear wearing off and him deciding to talk about his brush with celebrity.¡±

    Allana lips twitched in a small snarl. ¡°I don¡¯t like being thought of as his like that.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± she decided, standing up.

    ¡°Where to?¡±

    ¡°The office.¡± That was how they referred to Geoffrey¡¯s lavish house in public, not wanting to mention the assassin too casually. ¡°If we didn¡¯t know about this fishman situation, he might be ignorant of it too.¡±

    ¡°Not that it does us much good,¡± Tenebres noted as he stood to follow her. ¡°We know there was an outsider, it got killed, and now it¡¯s gone. Not a whole lot to go on for finding our necromancer.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about the thrice-damned necromancer!¡± Allana wheeled on him.

    Tenebres faced her calmly, despite their size difference. Allana had several inches on him, not to mention significantly more muscle, but the boy was as unimpressed by her anger as he ever was. He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and arched an eyebrow.

    Allana flushed, magenta blossoms coloring her purple skin. Anger and embarrassment warred on her face as she noted the interested faces around them, many of whom had taken note of her outburst. ¡°Outside,¡± she grumbled, not waiting for him to follow.

    #

    Allana didn¡¯t stop until they found a small little cubby of an alley, tucked away from lights and sheltered from the wind. The night air was pleasantly cool, but the ceaseless breeze off the bay only carried more of the smell of salt and rotting fish. Allana took deep breaths anyways, trying to calm down. At least the setting of the sun had made the smell mildly less rancid.

    ¡°You want to explain what that was all about?¡± Tenebres asked. Only his calm tone, lacking any disapproval, kept her from wheeling on him again.

    ¡°It¡¯s Telik.¡±

    ¡°You hate him.¡±

    Allana had shared a little of what brought her into Geoffrey¡¯s service with Tenebres after he had signed up with the odd assassin, but she found herself reluctant to discuss it, even with her new friend.

    ¡°Hate is too weak of a word.¡±

    Tenebres stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue when she was ready. He was patient in that way, as if he knew when she needed time to think her words into order.

    ¡°He killed my parents. They owed him money, and couldn¡¯t pay¨Cand the only thing of worth they had was their little girl.¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s eyes hardened. ¡°You mentioned that before. Part of it, at least.¡±

    Allana nodded. It was easier, at least, to say those things to him. He knew what it was like to be sold out by your own parents. ¡°Within a year of selling me to Telik, they were in even deeper. I don¡¯t know what their fix was, Telik never told me. He just said that, by the end, what he did to them was a small mercy.¡±

    ¡°How old were you?¡±

    ¡°Four or five, I don¡¯t know. Too young to have any real memories of it all.¡± She held a hand up to her own face, looking at the deep purple shade her heritage had left on her skin.  ¡°I remember they had the same skin as me, and I remember my mother¡¯s eyes were¡­¡± She darted a quick look at Tenebres, at those expressive red eyes and the way they were focused on her. She coughed awkwardly, and continued, ¡°He put me in this place. It was something like an orphanage, but for the children Telik had¡­ acquired.

    ¡°It was only when I hit twelve that he started paying any attention to me again. He¡¯d come by and put me, and some of the others, through our paces, testing what we could do. Those who did well, like me, we got to leave during the day. The rest of them¡­ went away, eventually. I always assumed Telik sold them off to a slaver or the like.¡± Allana frowned. The fate of those children was something she made a concerted effort to not consider. ¡°There were nearly a dozen of us in that place when I was growing up. But by the end, it was just me, Vernen, and Porgit.¡±

    Tenebres snorted. ¡°Those two idiots.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm. We each had our strengths. By fourteen, I could slit a purse without even a sharp eye taking notice. I could run across the roofs as easily as the streets, and pick a lock near as quick as if I had a key.¡± Allana found her hands coming together, her fingers fidgeting with one of her bracelets. The little copper and tin charms on the leather cord were among her earliest prizes, pilfered from a jeweler''s daughter. ¡°I always figured he wanted me to be a thief for him. Just another way to bring in some money. That was always what he cared about the most. Profit, profit, profit.¡±

    ¡°And you were okay with that?¡±

    ¡°I was,¡± she admitted, unable to contain a small, helpless chuckle. ¡°It was fun. Like a game. Figuring out how to get into a place, what was worth taking. Avoiding traps. Making an escape. And I never stole from anyone who couldn¡¯t handle the loss.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Tenebres seemed doubtful of that claim, and Allana snorted derisively.

    ¡°There¡¯s not a whole lot of profit to be had in stealing from the poor, Seo.¡±

    Tenebres huffed a little laugh. ¡°I suppose so.¡±

    ¡°When I got my gift of poison, I started to suspect. The gift of stealth was one thing, that was plenty handy for thieving too, but poison¡­¡±

    ¡°He wanted you to be his killer.¡±

    ¡°His knife in the dark,¡± Allana confirmed. ¡°Geoffrey told me, the day Telik sent me to start working with him. That was the day that he told me he planned to kill Telik one day, and then asked me to help him.¡±

    The words helped Allana collect herself, and she felt her anger cool to something hard and sharp. She pushed off the wall, and gave Tenebres a fierce look. ¡°And now I want to know why.¡±

 Chapter 38 - Tenebres

    Geoffrey sat behind his desk, considering his young pupils. Allana met his gaze fearlessly, jutting her chin out in defiance of his cool indifference. Tenebres couldn¡¯t manage the same level of confidence, but he held his place next to her anyways, supporting his friend.

    Finally, Geoffrey sighed. ¡°What am I supposed to do with you two?¡±

    ¡°Tell us the truth, for one,¡± Allana snapped back immediately.

    ¡°The truth is a dangerous thing, Allana. You of all people know that.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it any less valuable,¡± Tenebres interjected. With how upset Allana was, he knew that if this conversation was going to get anywhere, he needed to keep things on track.

    The assassin¡¯s eyes darted to Tenebres, and he tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point. ¡°A fair point. But you must understand. Were Telik to know what I know¡­ it would be dangerous. Even for me.¡±

    Allana¡¯s eyes narrowed dangerously at the words. ¡°Are you saying you still don¡¯t trust me? You really think I¡¯m going to run off to that bastard and just tell him everything?¡±

    Tenebres noticed the way Allana tensed with the claim, taut muscles shifting underneath smooth violet skin, as if she was resisting the urge to spring on him.

    Geoffrey pursed his lips. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, Allana.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Geoffrey, it is.¡± The girl spat each word like venom as she spoke. ¡°You tell me the truth, the whole truth, right now, or I leave, and you can try to kill Telik by yourself.¡±

    Geoffrey went still in his seat, so still that it startled Tenebres. He wasn¡¯t still the way a person would go when surprised. He was still like a statue, or a corpse. It was easy to forget that Geoffrey, for all of his casual demeanor, was a dangerous man, an Adept, as far above Allana and Tenebres as they were above a helpless child.

    Still, Tenebres couldn¡¯t forget Allana¡¯s words in the alley only an hour before, or the way she had looked when she spoke. The vulnerability, the exposed anger and hate that festered in her heart. She really would walk away as she threatened¨Cand Mage damn him if he wouldn¡¯t follow her.

    ¡°No more lies,¡± Tenebres agreed with Allana. ¡°You know everything about us, but we know next to nothing about you. You¡¯ve got to trust us Geoffrey, the way we¡¯ve been trusting you, or we can¡¯t keep doing this.¡±

    There was no emotion on Goeffrey¡¯s face as he considered the words. For all the world, it looked as if he was frozen in time for well over a minute before he finally nodded. ¡°Very well.¡± His gaze drifted between Tenebres and Allana before he asked, ¡°What do you two know of hags?¡±

    Allana shot to her feet. ¡°No! No, this has nothing to do with Telik, stop dodging the question Geoffrey!¡±

    Tenebres frowned, and reached up to put a hand on Allana¡¯s forearm, just above her tangle of bracelets. ¡°Lana¡­ sit down. Please.¡±

    Allana gave him a look of pure fury, but she listened. Only once she had sat back down, the motion obviously reluctant, did Tenebres turn his attention back to Geoffrey. ¡°They¡¯re outsiders,¡± the wraith boy answered. ¡°From the Chained World. I know they¡¯re supposed to be some of the worst threats from that world though, even more so than ogres or gnolls. They¡¯re some kind of spellcasters, I think.¡±

    Geoffrey nodded sharply. ¡°All correct, though that¡¯s not what makes them feared. All hags are moderate threats, but they¡¯re weak for that rank. They have some dangerous spells and curses, but one on one, they¡¯re significantly less dangerous than a rampaging ogre or the like. The real danger with hags is their talent for manipulation. They like to move in the background, using agents and minions to enact their agendas. A hag by herself is no great danger¨Cbut by the time you¡¯re aware one exists, they tend to be the center of a web of plots and defenses.¡±

    ¡°What does this have to do with Telik?¡± Allana snapped.

    Tenebres took a sudden breath, Geoffrey¡¯s words giving him a missing puzzle piece in his understanding of the situation.

    ¡°¡®Agents and minions¡­¡¯¡± he repeated. ¡°Telik is working for a hag, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Not ¡®for,¡¯ but ¡®with,¡¯¡± Geoffrey corrected. ¡°From what I can tell, I believe he¡¯s formed a partnership with a binding hag.¡±

    Allana furrowed her eyebrows. ¡°A binding hag?¡±

    ¡°Hags are classified by the types of curses they specialize in. Rot hags have spells of rot and decay, agony hags cause unnatural pain, binding hags bind a weaker being¡¯s will, enslaving them to her wishes.¡±

    Tenebres felt the corner of his lip lift in a small, involuntary snarl. For a moment, he remembered the most helpless moment of his life, bound and carried to his death. ¡°They can violate free will?¡±

    ¡°Just so. It can take a while if the person has significant enough will to resist them, but given enough time, they can take just about anyone of Initiate level or lower.¡±

    While Tenebres was disgusted by the idea, Allana looked significantly worse off, her face so bloodless it had faded to a pale lilac, as if she had been stabbed. ¡°Telik¡­¡± she breathed, ¡°He was going to do that to me too, wasn¡¯t he?¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s face softened, and he nodded. ¡°I suspect so.¡±

    Allana, still stricken, abruptly bowed her head, her brows knit together and eyes screwed shut. Tenebres shifted in place, uncertain of how to comfort the girl. As close as they had become, Allana was still thoroughly a mystery to the boy, but at the very least he knew she wouldn¡¯t appreciate the tears on her cheeks being acknowledged.

    Finally, Allana managed to croak, ¡°Why? What was he waiting for? Why bother sending me to you?¡±

    Geoffrey and Tenebres exchanged surprised looks, and Tenebres¡¯s admiration for his friend grew. He knew the pain she was facing intimately. He still woke up in cold sweats every few nights, phantom memories of ropes still chafing his wrists. Kellen had robbed him of his autonomy just as much as Telik planned to do to Allana. Even if the specifics were different, and he could only respect Allana having the emotional strength to think straight through the pain she was no doubt feeling. Tenebres had fled the cult¡¯s caverns rather than face the truth of what his gift had wrought.

    Unsure what else to do, he reached over and laid a hand on Allana''s forearm. He didn¡¯t grab her, he didn¡¯t try to hug her, he didn¡¯t speak. He simply tried to remind her of his presence, to offer her the simple reassurance of his company.

    ¡°We can wait before we continue¡­¡± Geoffrey tried to offer.

    Allana cut him off with a firm shake of her head, finally looking up with a bleary, red-eyed glare. ¡°No. I want to know everything.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Geoffrey looked troubled, but continued. ¡°It¡¯s a matter of free will. Once the hag had bound you, your actions wouldn¡¯t have truly been your own anymore.¡±

    ¡°I get that,¡± Allana growled.

    Tenebres inhaled sharply, understanding what Geoffrey implied. ¡°No, you don¡¯t, Lana.¡± She turned the glare on him, but he forced through. ¡°Think about it. Once your free will had been compromised, your acts wouldn¡¯t be your own. The Rogue wouldn¡¯t recognize them. He needed you to reach Initiate and receive your gift of the assassin so you could be what he wanted before the hag bound you.¡±

    ¡°Exactly right,¡± Geoffrey nodded. ¡°Unfortunately, that¡¯s why I¡¯ve been avoiding this explanation. I¡¯ve never encountered one of these binding hags before so¡­¡±

    ¡°So you didn¡¯t know if I was actually in control this whole time.¡± Allana¡¯s voice was tight, but Tenebres could feel the heat lurking behind it, her pain turning on itself and stoking the flames of her anger once more, like a hateful serpent consuming its own tail.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think it likely, but for all I knew, this hag could¡¯ve bound you to forget about her existence and act normally until you heard someone confess suspicions just like these.¡±

    Tenebres hummed thoughtfully. ¡°I notice all of these suspicions are past tense now.¡±

    One corner of Geoffrey¡¯s mouth lifted in a small, sad smile. ¡°Quite. While I¡¯ve never fought a binding hag, I received word from someone who has. It¡¯s my understanding that anyone so affected would automatically and instinctively deny the accusations I just made. They¡¯d claim it couldn¡¯t affect them, try to allay my suspicions. Even confronted with the truth, they¡¯d deny it. While I¡¯m sorry to hurt you the way I did, your reaction was genuine enough that I am confident that you haven¡¯t been bound already.¡±

    ¡°Why did you wait then!?¡± Allana shouted, jumping up from her seat to slam her palms flat on the solid wood of Geoffrey¡¯s writing desk. He blinked, but Allana didn¡¯t give him the chance to respond. ¡°You could¡¯ve told me any time, to see how I reacted, and gotten these fears of yours out of the way!¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Tenebres flinched at the violent reaction, snatching his hand back as Allana vented her pent up rage on Geoffrey. Gently, he tried to explain, ¡°Because then he would¡¯ve needed to kill you. If you moved against him¡­¡±

    ¡°Not just that,¡± Geoffrey admitted. ¡°From what I¡¯ve been told, that sort of mind control is extremely damaging. Being confronted with it could cause irreparable damage to your psyche, maybe even drive you insane. That was why I¡¯ve been driving your training the way I have. My hope was to wait until you reached Initiate with your gift of poison¨Cthat would tell me that your actions are your own, and let me be more open.¡± He spread his hands, the gesture helpless.

    Allana abruptly flushed. ¡°Then I forced your hand, and made you¡­¡±

    Geoffrey pursed his lips and nodded.

    She sat back in her seat, and Tenebres tried to conceal a smile at the familiar face of her embarrassment. Allana was quick to anger, and just as quick to cool off and regret the things she did while upset, but he knew that her heart was in the right place. Usually. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just¡­ I didn¡¯t think¡­¡±

    ¡°You had no way to know, of course. I fear I¡¯ve developed a habit of keeping secrets, one I find hard to break. I did want to tell you, please believe that. The time simply wasn¡¯t right.¡±

    Tenebres cleared his throat, looking between the two assassins. Knowing neither would flinch before the other, he offered, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I could use a little break before we keep talking. Get some fresh air.¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s grin grew, and he nodded. ¡°Sounds like just the thing. Perhaps we move to the lounge before we continue?¡±

    Allana looked between the two suspiciously, but the red-rimmed eyes she was trying to glare through gave away her own relief at being given an excuse for some time to collect herself.

    #

    By the time Allana rejoined them in the lounge, Tenebres had finished explaining the results of their hunt through the dockside to Geoffrey. The boy looked up at her entry, but didn¡¯t acknowledge the time she had needed to collect herself with anything besides a soft smile.

    ¡°Another outsider¡­ interesting¡­¡± Geoffrey mused as Allana took her seat.

    ¡°Unfortunately it¡¯s a dead end from there. We know the outsider corpse was stolen, but that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°We can talk about it later,¡± Allana cut in. ¡°I still have questions about Telik. You¡¯re not getting out of them that easily.¡±

    Geoffrey shook his head. ¡°Easily, no. I just risked all of our lives and your sanity to give you the explanation you wanted, Allana. That¡¯s not enough for you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Allana said flatly.

    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± As Geoffrey replied, he opened one of the numerous carafes that dotted his lounge and study alike. Rather than the traditional golden and amber liquors he normally drank, this one had a mild green cast to it that made Tenebres think of the verdigris that would coat exposed copper. The master assassin poured a glass for himself, then, after confirmation, a second for Allana. He paused, offering a pour to Tenebres, but the Novice shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather be able to remember all of this.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Allana announced as she grabbed her glass. ¡°You can explain it to me again in the morning.¡±

    Tenebres rolled his eyes, but he grinned all the same. After the ups and downs of the night, it was good to see the girl joking again. Tenebres felt the tight knot that had at some point replaced his heart loosen a little bit.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Geoffrey said as he sat back with his glass. ¡°Go ahead, let¡¯s get this done with.¡±

    ¡°Alright, first. Why haven¡¯t you killed Telik yet?¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s that easy, is it?¡± Geoffrey asked, amused.

    ¡°For you? Yes, it is, I don¡¯t get it. Telik¡¯s an Adept, and that scares everyone in Lowrun, but so are you. I¡¯ve seen you both fight, and I know you¡¯re better than Telik, by a long shot.¡±

    Geoffrey took a moment to sip his drink while he mused on his answer. Allana took the chance to do the same, and Tenebres watched the way she blinked in surprise at the taste. ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°Chillmint brandy,¡± Geoffrey answered absently.

    ¡°You should show me where to get a bottle.¡±

    ¡°It may be a little beyond your means, Allana.¡±

    ¡°Who said I was planning to buy it?¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s shoulders shook with a small huff of laughter. ¡°Well. There is that, I suppose. Very well then, Telik. What are his gifts?¡±

    Tenebres frowned and kept silent. He was the only one in the room who didn¡¯t know Telik. Familiar with the man only through Allana¡¯s stories, he knew Telik was some sort of crime lord, one of the most feared in Lowrun, but little else.

    Allana arched an eyebrow. ¡°Are you saying you don¡¯t know? Because I don¡¯t buy it.¡±

    ¡°Of course I know. I¡¯m asking you.¡±

    Allana narrowed her eyes. ¡°I know he came up as a smuggler, that¡¯s how he made his money early on. He paired the canny senses of the gift of the merchant with the gift of the thief. That means simple but effective combat abilities, just enough to keep him alive if he got caught up in something dangerous without help.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s two,¡± Tenebres pointed out, curious. ¡°If he¡¯s an Adept, he¡¯d have a third.¡±

    Allana pursed her lips thoughtfully. ¡°I guess¡­ I always assumed he just had some blessing from the Rogue archetype. Some supporting gift, like a criminal version of the gift of the merchant, because he only ever fights with his outlaw abilities.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t know what his third is?¡± Geoffrey asked.

    Allana glared at him. ¡°No, I don¡¯t. Enough with the tutor act, what is it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll remember I mentioned the forbidden archetypes when our friend here first joined us.¡±

    Teneberes nodded, remembering the two dark archetypes he had mentioned. ¡°The Tyrant and the Blood-soaked.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Geoffrey nodded his approval at Tenebres, and took another sip of his drink. ¡°Telik is one of those rare few that managed to make it on my list twice over. Working with an outsider would¡¯ve gotten him on my blacklist by itself, but he has possession of a forbidden gift as well¨Cthe gift of affluence.¡±

    ¡°Affluence?¡± Tenebres asked, incredulous. ¡°Sounds more like a gift from the Noble than anything evil.¡±

    ¡°I certainly don¡¯t need a gift to tell you Telik¡¯s a rich git,¡± Allana said with a snort. ¡°He¡¯s got more money than half the merchants up on the hilltops.¡±

    ¡°Just so,¡± Geoffrey acknowledged. ¡°And few things are more corrupting to a man than wealth.¡±

    Teneberes snorted a little, and he and Allana shared a look around the assassin¡¯s lavishly appointed lounge.

    Geoffrey noted their looks with a smirk of his own. ¡°Ah, but I simply have fine tastes. The accumulation of wealth for little but its own purpose¡­ now that is the sort of endeavor that drives men to dark deeds. Telik makes his wealth on the back of human suffering. Crime, theft, and drugs are just the surface. I suspect much of Lowrun¡¯s sad state is at least partially due to Telik¡¯s practices. A man like that¡­ the Tyrant couldn¡¯t wish for a better adherent.¡±

    ¡°Why does a gift like that keep you from going after him though?¡± Allana asked, confusion evident in her tone. ¡°You said it yourself. If anything, it makes him even more of a target to you.¡±

    Tenebres hadn¡¯t noticed Allana drinking in the midst of his interest in Geoffrey¡¯s explanation, but as she spoke, he noticed the thickness in her words. Her glass was nearly empty, while Geoffrey had barely touched his own drink.

    ¡°It does, but it also complicates things. The gift of affluence is a problematic one. It allows him to use his obscene wealth in combat¨Cby expending gold, he can strengthen his abilities, boost his attributes, Rogue knows what else. You¡¯re right that I¡¯m more than Telik¡¯s equal in skill, but so long as he has gold to spend, the gift of affluence more than closes the gap. Until I figure out that gift¡¯s weaknesses, I can¡¯t take him to battle with any real confidence.¡±

    ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°No.¡± This time it was Geoffrey¡¯s turn to be firm. ¡°No, I will not discuss what I¡¯ve figured out so far, or what my plans are, or what I know about Telik¡¯s limits. I¡¯ve told you all you¡¯ve asked, Allana, but I need to draw a line somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Why not? Why is this where there needs to be a line?¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± Teneberes pointed out, ¡°he knows as well as I do that if you decided that you knew enough, you¡¯d attack Telik without waiting for us to help.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that!¡± Allana insisted hotly.

    ¡°Truly?¡± Geoffrey asked, with an eyebrow arched. ¡°Tell me, why would I believe that you¡¯d restrain yourself with Telik any better than you did with Algus?¡±

    Allana blinked in surprise. ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Ruined my operation, Allana. I know I let it slide, but don¡¯t think I¡¯ve forgotten. Perhaps, if we had the chance to reconnoiter the chandler properly, we wouldn¡¯t be up against the wall now, chasing stories in a desperate attempt to track down the outsider giving out these necromantic gifts.¡±

    Allana flushed. ¡°Well, maybe if you told me what was going on in the first place, I wouldn¡¯t have felt the need to do it myself!¡±

    Tenebres winced as the heat returned to Allana¡¯s voice, more intense than ever now that she had alcohol fueling her emotions. The tension that had briefly abated circulated through the air once more, and Tenebres felt his chest start to tighten up again.

    Geoffrey frowned, but betrayed no other reaction to the accusation. ¡°Perhaps. But now we¡¯ll never know.¡± He put his glass down, perhaps with a little more force than was needed. ¡°That will be enough for tonight. I¡¯ll follow up on the lead you two found. Take the next few days off, and I¡¯ll send for you when it¡¯s time for a move I trust you to make properly.¡±

    Allana¡¯s eyes opened wide, and Tenebres reached over quickly, resting a hand on her arm without being so bold as to grab her. Still, she turned her anger on him, and it took all he had to not wince in the face of it.

    ¡°Enough, Lana. Let¡¯s go,¡± he pleaded. His charm boon told him the words weren¡¯t right as soon as he said them, helping him notice the way her shoulders squared, her body language becoming ever more rigid and defensive, without giving him the right words to make things better.

    ¡°Fine.¡± Allana jerked her arm away from him and slammed her empty glass down on the table as she stood, before stalking out of the room without another word, anger wrapped around her like a cloak.

    Tenebres gave Geoffrey a helpless look, and ran to join her. ¡°Your pay is by the door,¡± Geoffrey called after him, his voice soft and, Tenebres thought, tinged with regret.

    Allana was already outside by the time Tenebres made it to the front hall. He grabbed the two purses and ran out the door after her.

    He had to run nearly a block to catch up with her determined, angry, strides. ¡°Allana!¡± He called with a gasp. ¡°Where are you going? Our apartment isn¡¯t this way.¡±

    She didn¡¯t bother to turn around as she answered. ¡°I¡¯m not going back to my apartment. I told you, I¡¯ve got a date tonight.¡± Her words were as rigid with anger as her posture, and Tenebres faltered.

    Something in the pit of his stomach twisted, and he asked. ¡°Seriously? We need to talk about what just happened!¡±

    ¡°Maybe you do.¡± She didn¡¯t stop walking.

    ¡°Lana!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Allana, Tenebres. I never said you could call me that.¡±

    Tenebres swallowed thickly. He had teased her for always using his fake name, but he¡¯d give anything to hear her call him Seo again.

    ¡°Fine, Allana. Please, look, just come back to the apartment with me so we can talk!¡±

    Allana replied with a sharp gesture with one hand that made her feelings clear. Then her figure blurred and vanished into the deep shadows around them, as if she had never been there, and Tenebres was left alone on the street, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

    END OF PART TWO

 Chapter 39 - Adeline

    <h2>Chapter 39¨CAdeline </h2>

    ¡°Two more, coming in high,¡± Adeline called to Farris. Even as she spoke, her swords continued their unerring dance, simultaneously fending off three harpies. By their coloring, the monsters had been geese prior to their transformation, but now their claws and beaks alike had become dangerous weapons even as their bodies took on an uncannily humanoid shape. It was hard to say which was more disconcerting, the double jointed wings, the dagger-length talons, or the freakishly human faces broken up by their long beak and fierce yellow eyes.

    In response to her call, the skilled warden pivoted, the thorn-studded length of her vine whip extending as she lashed out, giving it the necessary length to grab one of the magically-modified birds out of midair. The harpy barely had time to screech before the finger-length thorns of the twisted, semi-animate whip penetrated its neck and shredded its throat to tattered pieces.

    While the first fell in a bloody mass of feathers, Farris had already turned her attention to the second. She crooked her fingers in a claw-like shape, frost responding to her gift and rapidly accumulating on the harpy¡¯s tawny wings. The monster began to flap wildly about, trying to keep the encroaching sheen of ice from disrupting its flight, but before it could make much headway, Farris clenched her open hand into a tight fist. The frost instantly thickened into an inch-thick coating, robbing the harpy of the strength to keep itself aloft. As it fell, Farris was already moving forward, axe in hand, to finish it.

    Grinning at the warden¡¯s impressive performance, Adeline turned her attention back to her own fight. A fourth harpy had joined the three she was already holding off, resulting in a cloud of razor sharp talons, pecking beaks, fluttering wings, and piercing shrieks that Adeline¡¯s flickering swords easily held off, her inhuman coordination more than sufficient to defend herself even while watching Farris¡¯s progress.

    ¡°Right, that¡¯ll be enough of that,¡± Adeline growled. She had drawn their attention, and now it was time to put paid to the monsters¡¯ efforts. One of her swords twirled in a lightning fast circle, manifesting a golden quarter dome of energy between her and two of the harpies.

    [Shining Shield] - Active, Defense, Support - Create a barrier of energy to defend yourself or an ally. Lesser duration and durability increases to moderate if used on an ally. Lesser focus cost decreases to minor if the target is engaged by three or more enemies.

    The shield wouldn¡¯t hold up long even against the lesser monsters, but it bought Adeline the space she needed to flash forward, each of her swords glittering with potency as her defensive motions fluidly turned to offense.

    [Critical Strike] - Active, Attack, Luck - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Potency has a small chance to instead increase by four tiers. Moderate stamina cost is decreased to lesser if the critical effect triggers.

    One harpy cawed out its pain as the enhanced potency of Adeline¡¯s attack cut off one of its taloned feet at the knee, but the other wasn¡¯t so lucky. Not only did it dart in even as she cut at it, it had the misfortune of suffering a critical hit from her favorite attack. The bird monster didn¡¯t even make a sound as her sword cleanly cut it in half.

    The one she had wounded tried to flap out of her range, but the awkward monster had nothing like the speed needed to avoid an Adept battle-gifted. Adeline simply squatted and lept straight into the air, one sword held aloft, easily clearing twenty feet high before she clashed with the monster in midair. A single jolt was all she felt as her blade sliced cleanly through flesh and jolted through the beast¡¯s hollow bones.

    Adeline couldn¡¯t help a grin as she flew through the air, feeling like she would burst at the seams from the joy of the wind in her hair, the sunshine on her skin, and the addicting zip of adrenaline coursing through her body. Her time training Oli had been nice, but she¡¯d be lying if she said it didn¡¯t feel amazing to get a chance to really cut loose¨Cand she wasn¡¯t done yet.

    Adeline felt the pit opening in her stomach that told her she had reached the peak of her arc and started to fall back down. As she did, she used the last of her momentum to turn her body, bringing her arms in close to her sides. The harpies she had held off with her shield had only just begun to chase after her, but they were too late. Adeline didn¡¯t even bother with a special attack, simply positioning her swords and letting gravity do her work for her.

    She landed in a poised crouch moments before the three harpy corpses hit the ground, white silk skirts fluttering down around her waist as the energy from the jump dissipated.

    [Gift of the Vanguard] experienced gained

    Experience: 14%

    ¡°Show off,¡± Farris remarked with a straight face. The warden flicked her thorn whip, the weapon seeming to disperse into midair as she ended the flow of quintessence that maintained the weapon.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Adeline asked as she stood up, posing casually for the warden. ¡°It sounded for a moment like you weren¡¯t impressed by how awesome I am.¡±

    Farris rolled her eyes. ¡°Is that all of them?¡±

    Adeline shrugged, looking around the woods in their vicinity. ¡°Seems like it. Rage monsters aren¡¯t exactly subtle.¡±

    It had been three weeks since the two of them had left Correntry, chasing rumors of a wild minotaur in the badlands west of the trade city. The rumors had quickly proven true, as they found first one, then a second and third village heavily damaged by the passage of the moderate monster.

    A similar jump in power as Adept level was for gifted, moderate rank monsters were an order of magnitude more dangerous than the vastly more common lesser and minor monsters. Not only would the minotaur be far more powerful and resilient than a similar monster of a lower rank, it had a notable and potent magical ability, which made hunting it both much easier and far more dangerous.

    Minotaurs were spawned by certain lesser ranked magical monsters becoming possessed by a vast amount of rage-aspected magic. Often, this was the result of poaching, poor hunting practices causing the base arcane beast to begin aspecting its own rage magic, but the change could be caused by external factors as well. The true danger that minotaurs posed was that, once spawned, they passively acted as a wellspring of ever more rage-aspected magic.

    Not only did that constant aspecting harm the normal magic around it, affecting reagents, crop growth, and arcane beasts that relied on neutral, life-aspected magic, it caused the minotaur¡¯s mere proximity to transform other susceptible animals, leaving large numbers of dangerous, rage-aspected monsters in its wake. This was the second flock of harpies the two women had put down, along with a half-dozen ravagers and a ruin bear¨Citself near as dangerous as the minotaur that had spawned it.

    Farris blew out a relieved breath and slipped her axe back into her belt. As the battle rush wore off, the brunette woman sank down to one knee. Her breathing wasn¡¯t quite heavy or ragged, but it was obvious that she was making efforts to carefully control it. It was an odd reminder for Adeline. Farris was skilled and, after over a decade in Correntry¡¯s protectorate force, arguably more experienced than Adeline. However, the warden was only Initiate to Adeline¡¯s Adept, and the numerous lesser monsters had pushed her much more than they had Adeline. Of course, as she knew how the prideful woman would respond to any offer of help, Adeline didn¡¯t bother to ask before she used one of her passion abilities to help the warden recover.

    [Passionate Inspiration] - Active, Support, Healing - Restore an ally¡¯s stamina and focus by a moderate amount. Lesser focus cost.

    Farris gave Adeline a pained smile as the effects of the spell sank in, a bit of tension leaving her body even as she blew out a slow breath.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she told Adeline, her tone only a little begrudging.

    Adeline smiled in return. She lifted each of her swords to look them over, ensuring neither had gained any nicks or damage from the fight. Satisfied, she sheathed the rune engraved, eldrite-edged blade, then flicked her silvery astral steel blade, letting it return to its immaterial state. Bound to a small talisman dangling from her wrist, she could resummon the blade at a moment¡¯s notice, but that didn¡¯t make proper maintenance any less important.

    ¡°Are you good to keep moving today?¡± she asked, turning her gaze back to Farris.

    Her companion¡¯s dusty face had relaxed a bit as Adeline¡¯s ability helped her get her wind back, and with a huff of breath she stood up. ¡°Yeah. I just wish we knew where this thing was going.¡±

    ¡°Mmn,¡± Adeline murmured, sharing her friend¡¯s concerns. Most minotaurs preferred to find themselves a range, a territory they declared their own and which they defended to the death¨Coften from the other monsters their own abilities had inadvertently created. But their quarry was clearly on the move, leaving a wide swath of destruction behind it.

    ¡°Me too,¡± she admitted. ¡°But there¡¯s nothing else for it but to keep moving. Let me know if you need another Inspire.¡±

    ¡°The sort of recharge I could use doesn¡¯t come from your ability,¡± Farris told her, managing a tired, albeit lecherous grin.

    Adeline couldn¡¯t help a playful wink in return. The time away from Correntry and the responsibilities that came with her position and her recruits had let Farris relax in a way she had never quite managed to in the bustling city, and Adeline was surprised by just how flirtatious the woman had proven to be.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Once we kill this thing, we can find an inn room and not leave for a week. Is that enough inspiration for you?¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    Despite the light words, Farris¡¯s hazel eyed gaze drifted away. Not northwest, along the minotaur¡¯s trail, but southwards.

    Adeline didn¡¯t have to ask the warden what she was thinking. She found herself thinking of Oli and the job their trainees had set out on often enough, too.

    #

    ¡°How do you think they¡¯re doing?¡± Farris asked.

    It was late, far past midnight, before the two had finally decided to stop for the night. With their high stamina attributes and Adeline¡¯s restoration abilities, they only needed a few hours to rest each night, and they were using that to slowly close the gap with their monstrous prey.

    Adeline cushioned her head with her hands and stared up at the stars overhead, bright silver points of light set in the impenetrable cosmos.

    ¡°They¡¯re okay,¡± Adeline said, faking more confidence than she actually felt. Beside her, the fire crackled. Distantly, an owl crooned, the chirping of the summer insects and the ambient sounds of the forest all making her acutely aware of the relative silence that yawned between herself and her companion.

    Farris rolled over, so that she could rest her chin on Adeline¡¯s shoulder. Farris¡¯s transition hadn¡¯t softened her body at all. The warden was still a wiry collection of muscles, as taut as braided iron. But when they lay together, she felt warm and solid, a reassuring weight that kept Adeline grounded.

    They hadn¡¯t bothered with bedrolls, just laying out a blanket cushioned enough to keep the ground from leeching the heat from their bodies, trusting the early summer air to keep them comfortable. ¡°You think so?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Warrior knows that Oli is better than I was at his age, and he could barely keep up with your recruits.¡±

    Adeline felt Farris¡¯ lips curl into a smile. The expression made the skin of her face shift, and Adeline felt the sudden urge to kiss along the woman¡¯s strong jawline, to feel the flutter of Farris¡¯ heartbeat under her lips.

    ¡°Do you think he¡¯s going to be ready by the time he comes back?¡± Farris asked.

    Adeline sighed. She had watched Oli grow so much in the few weeks they had spent together, confidence beginning to blossom as she patiently nurtured him. But by the time he left, even after the cloak she had commissioned for him, he hadn¡¯t been ready to admit that he was eclipsed. He had worn it long as he exited the inn the following morning, undoing the clasps that transformed the silhouette of the garment from solar back to lunar.

    ¡°His old man did a number on him.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t they all?¡±

    ¡°Yours was hard on you too?¡±

    ¡°He was. Right up until I made it to Initiate and got my officer rank.¡±

    Adeline snorted. While the eclipsed were becoming more accepted amongst the common populace, who had little time or energy to spare on prejudice, they still faced no small amount of judgment from the upper classes. Both the nobles and the merchants who strove to imitate them found their reasons to look down on the eclipsed and celestials alike. The old guard aristocracy still clung to the gender norms that the lower classes had long since moved past. Adeline was still convinced it was a defense mechanism, a desperate attempt to keep their influence and power within their ¡°proper¡± bloodlines.

    In Adeline¡¯s experience, that persecution resulted in two kinds of eclipsed. There were those like Farris, who strove to become great despite what anyone might think about them, to throw their accomplishments back in the faces of those who tried to look down on them. Then there were those who embraced rebellion, giving up the seemingly futile quest for respect from others to instead do whatever they wanted to, with no regard for the opinions of those who presumed to judge them.

    By all appearances, Oli seemed like the first kind, but there was a rebellious streak hidden inside the repressed noble that Adeline wondered about at times¨Chis urge to shrug off all responsibilities and do things like jump from the top of the primal hall for nothing more than the pure joy of the sensation.

    In either case, she looked forward to the day her squire finally took that next step. He, or she, would always have Adeline¡¯s support, and that of the Argent Order.

    #

    Adeline lept back, the minotaur¡¯s fist missing her by scant inches, so close that she felt the wind of its passing and smelled the acrid musk of its sweat. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh and lunged forward, the light of her runeblade dimming as it sliced into the monster¡¯s thick-hewn arms.

    The minotaur had once been a bull, and it still had the distinctive head, glossy black fur, and massive horns of its previous form. But now it stood on two legs, its front legs turned into muscular, powerful arms that each ended in a three fingered hand. Its knuckles had thick, bone-like ridges, vestigial remains of its hooves, that turned its already dangerous fists into lethal weapons. It was tall enough that its horns nearly scraped the top of the cave they had found it in, and its sheer bulk left them little room to navigate around it.

    Farris¡¯s thorn whip wrapped around the monster¡¯s other wrist, but given the brute¡¯s weight, the attack only succeeded in tearing up the minotaurs flesh, leaving behind a shallow shredded wound that quickly began to heal over, revealing the monster¡¯s unnatural resilience.

    With a low bellow, the bullman turned on Farris, stooping to swing its lethal, heavy horns at the warden.

    It had been years since Adeline received her gift of the hero from the Adventurer, and she didn¡¯t hesitate to throw out a Shining Shield to cover her friend¡¯s flank. Farris was already moving as well, and with a desperate flick of her hand she threw a large chunk of ice at the monster¡¯s head. Their combined efforts slowed the minotaur¡¯s goring thrust just enough that it sent Farris flying, rather than impaling her on the spot. The warden bounced off the cold stone of the cave wall, but she was recovering before she even hit the ground, as Adeline had prepped both of them with a passive healing effect before they struck.

    [Blessing of Health] - Active, Healing, Support - Target gains a passive healing effect. Lesser duration and potency is increased to moderate when used on an ally. Duration is only consumed when the effect is active. Lesser focus cost.

    Of course, in the precious moments while the warden recovered, Adeline needed to spring forward. She quickly seized the minotaur¡¯s attention, her twin longswords dancing and landing a series of shallow cuts that nonetheless drew the powerful monster¡¯s attention away from the wounded Farris.

    It was a hard fight for both of them. Adeline¡¯s abilities were far less immediately impactful than most Adept battle-gifted, as both her gift of passion and gift of the hero were packed with support abilities, powers that were at their best when used on an ally rather than herself. Farris had a more confrontational skillset, but her gift of thorns was only Apprentice level, unlike her gift of the skirmisher and gift of frost. Her combination of gifts also made her far more dangerous when outnumbered, as they had been against the harpies, rather than fighting the singular, powerful threat of the minotaur.

    Still, their efforts were showing. Farris¡¯s gift of the skirmisher made her more dangerous as the fight dragged on, each of her blows enhanced by her Hindering Strike, slowly lowering the minotaur¡¯s strength, speed, and coordination. Farris soon rejoined the fight, both women fighting conservatively, relying on the passive healing and shields of Adeline¡¯s gift of the hero to stay alive while Farris sapped away the powerful monster¡¯s attributes.

    It may have had strength and resilience to spare, but as it lost the reflexes, accuracy, and balance tied to its speed and coordination, the two were able to get more daring with their attacks. Finally, Adeline felt the monster had been slowed enough to end it.

    ¡°Farris, now!¡± she called.

    The warden danced back and lifted a hand to the broad blade of her battle axe. Runes along the curved edge lit up with a cold, white-blue light as she used her quintessence to activate the spellblade, coating her axe in a massive wedge of heavy, razor sharp ice even as Adeline used her most powerful buff on the warden.

    [Heroic Surge] - Vanguard, Hero - Active, Support - Grants an ally a major boost to all physical attributes for a minor duration. Major stamina and focus cost. Ability has a three day cooldown.

    Enhanced by the Surge, Farris leapt forward, twirling her heavy, ice-rimed axe as if it weighed no more than a child¡¯s toy. The minotaur lifted an arm in a clumsy attempt to fend off the incoming attack, but the woman nimbly ducked under the block, her feet sliding as smoothly as if she was skating on a frozen pond.

    In single motion, Farris sent her axe arching upward with all the momentum of her charge, then brought it back down directly between the bull monster¡¯s horns.

    Adeline¡¯s eyebrows went up. The bullman¡¯s skull was apparently impressively thick, and likely reinforced by some level of innate potency, as rather than cleaving straight through the minotaur''s head, the axe blade had merely lodged a handspan into the bone. But apparently, Adeline hadn¡¯t quite seen all of Farris¡¯ tricks yet.

    The warden gave the staggered monster a fierce grin, then slapped her hand against the thick ice coating her blade. The minotaur seemed to freeze in place, its red-rimmed eyes wide¨Cand then thorns of pure ice shot out all over its body, shredding it from the inside out.

    Adeline blinked. ¡°Well. Don¡¯t see that everyday.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡± Farris called back. ¡°I couldn¡¯t hear you over the sound of-AAH!¡±

    The warden''s attempt to brag was slightly spoiled as, with a series of detonating cracks, the minotaur¡¯s body weight broke through the ice riddling its body, and it collapsed to the cave floor in pieces.

    ¡°Smooth.¡±

    #

    ¡°That¡¯s odd¡­¡±

    ¡°Wha-at?¡± Farris¡¯s breath hitched as she stooped against the cool stone wall, stretching and working her sore muscles while Adeline¡¯s abilities slowly healed her.

    ¡°Look at this.¡± Just behind the minotaur''s head, in the thick meat of its shoulder, was blackened sigil, carved into its muscle itself. One of the ice thorns had marred the design, but from what she could make out, Adeline was sure that it wasn¡¯t the work of a human hand.

    Farris approached, tilting her head as she inspected the mark. ¡°Is it¡­ a rancher¡¯s brand? A holdover from when it was a bull on a farm?¡±

    Adeline shook her head. ¡°No. Look at those curves, the angle there¡­¡± she trailed off as she studied the remains of the mark.

    Farris sounded troubled when she replied. ¡°Do you think it had something to do with the way it was rampaging about?¡±

    ¡°More than that. I¡¯m not an expert on it, but I think¡­ I think this is hag magic. I think a hag made this thing.¡±

    ¡°A hag manipulating rage magic? I¡¯ve never heard of something like that.¡±

    ¡°Me either.¡± Adeline stood up, but continued staring at the mark, troubled. ¡°This is bad.¡±

    ¡°We need to find the hag that did this,¡± Farris agreed.

    Adeline shook her head. ¡°No¡­ I mean, well, yes, we do. But we need to bring in someone else. Hags are bad news, and if one is messing around with magic like this¡­ I¡¯m not going into that blind.¡±

    ¡°What''s the big deal? I thought hags were supposed to be casters. They have a different relationship with magic than even human mages do, or something like that.¡±

    ¡°But not like this,¡± Adeline said. ¡°Corruption, destruction, pain, sickness, that¡¯s all normal for hags. But rage-aspected magic? That¡¯s wild magic, just like hunger. There¡¯s a reason no archetype gives access to wild magic. It¡¯s not supposed to be possible for an intelligent being to use such base, primeval magic¨Cthe only ones who ever have are trolls.¡±

    ¡°But trolls are from the Feral World,¡± Farris pointed out. ¡°Hags are from the Chained World. That shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. But here we are.¡±

    The two women traded a worried look, then turned back to the minotaur. Without another word, they turned and started back to Correntry.

 Chapter 40 - Caden

    Weeks passed, and with them came the end of spring. With each passing day, it seemed to Caden that the sun was warmer and the air more humid. The heartlands were temperate by nature, which was why they had become so thoroughly settled by farming communities and the like, but that didn¡¯t make their roads any more pleasant to walk, day after day, in the heat of even early summer. Storyteller promised Caden that, at higher level, his stamina and resilience would make the heat irrelevant, allowing his body to replenish its resources as quickly as the summertime air could drain it, but that was a distant and empty comfort as the teen trudged along the roads at Storyteller¡¯s side.

    ¡°Well,¡± Storyteller started one day as they walked, in a tone Caden recognized as his ¡°lesson time¡± voice, ¡°it seems like the hunters in this area are doing their duty.¡± It had been nearly a week since they encountered a minor monster for Caden to fight.

    After the frequent fights that had broken up their travels, the absence of the little monsters had left Caden itching for more action. He had gotten to the point that lone dire vermin couldn¡¯t give him much more than a few scratches before he put them down, and the teenager longed for a chance to test himself against a larger number of monsters, like the dire squirrels that had been his first challenge while traveling with Storyteller.

    ¡°Please tell me that doesn¡¯t mean practice time?¡± Caden groaned. Weeks on the road had combined with the stifling heat to dampen his earlier enthusiasm, and while fighting monsters was still a much anticipated bit of excitement, bouts with Storyteller had lost their luster.

    ¡°Oh? Not feeling a spar?¡± Storyteller asked with a grin. ¡°Very well then, we¡¯ll just do lessons instead. Let¡¯s start with¡­ the Greater Triad.¡±

    Caden groaned again. Storyteller was a big believer in memorization through repetition, and their lessons so far had focused heavily on the most common Archetypes, those whose abilities Caden would be copying most often. With that had come their discussion of the Triads, groups of three archetypes that were useful for conceptualizing the links between the gift-granting beings.

    Caden blew out a breath and began reciting the three archetypes that Storyteller had long since drilled into his head. ¡°The Greater Triad are the archetypes that grant the most common gifts in the Realm, as all three of them represent broad inclinations and can grant gifts at Novice level. Most Novices and Apprentices in the cities have at least one of their gifts, and the vast majority of battle-gifted have gifts from two of them.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, you memorized the big picture, I get it,¡± Storyteller tutted. ¡°Go deeper. Tell me about their gifts.¡±

    Caden rolled his eyes at the older adventurer¡¯s tone. ¡°Okay¡­ the Warrior is the most martially-inclined archetype. He gives gifts relating to six different combat styles. The brawler for pure damage dealing, skirmisher for scouts and hit-and-run tactics, guardian for defensive types, archer for¡­ archers¡­ and, uhm¡­¡± Caden trailed off thoughtfully.

    ¡°You said six,¡± Storyteller reminded him. ¡°I only counted four.¡±

    Caden shot a half-hearted glare up at the tall man, thinking furiously.

    ¡°Vanguard!¡± he finally said triumphantly. ¡°That¡¯s the flexible one, with both offensive and defensive abilities. And¡­ that dumb one for the nobles to waste their time with.¡±

    ¡°Caden¡­¡± Storyteller¡¯s tone was warning.

    He groaned. ¡°I don¡¯t remember, okay?¡±

    ¡°Fencer is the last one. Quick, precise attacks. And while it is favored by the nobility, I¡¯d suggest not calling it a waste of time to anyone with the gift, if you wish to stay unperforated.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­¡± Caden muttered.

    ¡°See if you can recover, tell me about the Mage next.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t even copy Mage abilities though!¡± Caden complained.

    ¡°Yes, but one day you¡¯ll be able to, and you should probably be able to speak to them by then.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ the Mage gives weird blessings that give access to spells instead of abilities. You still have to study and learn the spells, and they use a special magical resource, so I¡¯m not able to do anything with them until I spend a while studying their magic too.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the resource called?¡±

    ¡°I wanna say magical¡­ well?¡±

    ¡°Mystical well.¡±

    ¡°I was close!¡±

    ¡°Sure. Go on, tell me about the gifts themselves.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ there are five of them, for the five disciplines of magic. Artifice and alchemy are the least combat oriented ones, but they¡¯re important to tradecraft. Then¡­ there¡¯s evocation, that¡¯s battle magic. And animism is healing magic¡­¡± Caden trailed off. ¡°I still don¡¯t get the last one. It starts with an ¡®s¡¯ I think?¡±

    ¡°Sorcery,¡± Storyteller offered. ¡°The magic of spirits.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t get what that means.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated,¡± he admitted. ¡°For your needs, understand that they can summon and control spirits for a variety of purposes. Scouting, distractions, defenses, even limited attacks. But they¡¯re immaterial¨Ctheir ability to affect the physical world is limited.¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­ sorcery¡­sorcery¡­¡± Caden repeated the word, trying to commit it to memory so that he wouldn¡¯t get caught forgetting it again. ¡°Then the Primal is easy. It gives control over certain elements. Fire, water, wind, earth, metal, frost, wood, and lightning are the most common elements.¡±

    ¡°Good!¡± Storyteller praised his charge.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got one question though.¡± Storyteller nodded, and Caden continued, ¡°Why do some archetypes, like the Elder or the Greater Triad, grant gifts at Novice, but others wait till Initiate?¡± Caden¡¯s steps slowed as he spoke, and he found himself staring between two trees, studying a slanting ray of sunlight that passed between their branches. This was a question that had plagued him since he received his first gift, and still, he hadn¡¯t managed to come up with a decent answer.

    Storyteller paused as well, looking thoughtful. ¡°I suspect you¡¯ll find that to be quite the question. Scholars have pondered the vagaries of the archetypes since before the Realm was founded, and there¡¯s still much we don¡¯t understand about them.¡±

    Cadence narrowed his eyes and turned to Storyteller. ¡°So you don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°Not definitively, no.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ well why do you think, then?¡± Storyteller pursed his lips, and Caden could see him waffling, seeking a non-committal answer. The teen sighed in exasperation. ¡°C¡¯mon Teller, just give me an answer!¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Storyteller considered the younger adventurer, and blew out a breath. ¡°Very well¡­ Personally, I¡¯ve always believed that the archetypes simply make the decision themselves. There¡¯s plenty of reason to believe they¡¯re sentient, after all, so why not? Take the Arbiter, the archetype of law. If it went around investing in every random Novice trying for their first gifts, it would diffuse its influence. Part of the reason the inquisitors of the Arbiter are feared is that they are so few, and uniformly skilled. They had to make it to Initiate to prove their ability before the Arbiter would take them. But the Warrior, or the Mage, or even the Elder, they¡¯re more defined by how broad their interests are. Anyone who pursues martial techniques could be seen as an adherent of the Warrior, so it grants its gifts to many more people.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ Well, what about the Adventurer then?¡±

    Storyteller made a soft sound of understanding. ¡°I see. You¡¯re thinking of your gift of the wanderer?¡±

    ¡°I mean, of course I am!¡± Caden said. ¡°I have a gift no one is supposed to have until Initiate, and I¡¯m not even halfway through Novice. Yeah, I¡¯m thinking about that!¡±

    Storyteller nodded. ¡°Well then, if we follow the same logic, I¡¯d say that the Adventurer is limiting its blessings to those who prove that they want to follow its lifestyle. It''s easy to want to explore when you¡¯re a teenager who has never seen the wider world. If you still hold the same desires after whatever you had to do to get to Initiate, then the Adventurer knows you¡¯re serious.¡±

    Caden frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not a real answer though! I¡¯m just a teenager who¡¯s never seen the wider world, how does the Adventurer know I genuinely want this path?¡±

    ¡°An excellent question,¡± Storyteller replied in a strained voice, ¡°and one I¡¯m no more able to answer now than I was the first night after you received that gift. Perhaps the Adventurer saw the desire in your soul, and after your encounter in the barrens, it simply saw fit to take the opportunity to bestow its gift.¡±

    ¡°A gift I didn¡¯t even accept,¡± Caden grumbled. ¡°A gift that doesn¡¯t help me at all in combat. What¡¯s the point?¡±

    Storyteller blew out a sigh, and his irritation was plain to see. ¡°Enough, Caden. I¡¯ve seen much in my life, but still, I have no idea why this happened to you. No explanation and no answers. So if you are frustrated, perhaps you should start your journey with finding an answer to that question.¡±

    Without waiting for a response, the man turned back to the path and began briskly walking again. Caden blinked in surprise at the uncharacteristically brusque tone of the man¡¯s words, then he hurried to catch up to him, still pondering what they had discussed, and why it would frustrate the experienced adventurer.

    #

    The next morning, the rising sun woke Caden early, and he found himself frowning at some wordless discomfort. The copse had proven more difficult going than they anticipated, and as they had many times before, Caden and Storyteller had ended up spending the night under the low-hanging boughs of a pine tree.

    Absently, Caden reached up to comb out his hair with his fingers. In the weeks they had traveled, his sky blue locks had grown long and shaggy, and if not bound in some way, his hair would fly in his face constantly. He looked down at the supple leather of his vest, shucked off the night before. It was illuminated by a narrow, dim ray of the early morning sun. Caden nodded and decided that he knew what was wrong.

    By the time Storyteller woke up, Cadence¡¯s hair was bound back into a pair of tails framing her face. A little fiddling tied the leather vest slightly tighter around her ribs, and she left the top of it unbuttoned, showing the skin of her collarbone and revealing a simple leather necklace, bound tight around her throat with a knot around a small piece of bright metal. The effect was subtle, and Storyteller had to study her face for a moment before he asked, ¡°Decided to be Cadence again?¡±

    Cadence cocked her mouth in a little smile, and shrugged, the motion subtly different from the day before. ¡°I haven¡¯t spent so long feeling like a boy in a while, but I decided I was feeling¡­ sunny, today.¡±

    Storyteller snorted. ¡°Sunny¡­ they still tell that story out in your village?¡±

    ¡°The Maiden of the Sun and the Gentleman Moon?¡± Cadence asked dryly. ¡°Yes Storyteller, we know that one.¡±

    Storyteller hummed thoughtfully, and they started walking again.

    #

    It wasn¡¯t even midmorning when they emerged from the thick copse they had entered the day before, into landscape Cadence found disconcertingly familiar.

    They had found their way to a rough dirt road, unpaved and carved with a pair of ruts by uncountable wagons over years of travel. The fields around them had been settled and cultivated, turned into acres of well-maintained farmlands, the warm sun overhead beating down on an assortment of grains, vegetables, and even what looked like a small orchard of fruit trees. The woodlands surrounding the farms were more sparse then Felisen¡¯s, more a series of dense stands of trees like the one the pair had come through than a single forest, but still, the village they were approaching was familiar enough to give Cadence a pang of homesickness.

    ¡°We¡¯re approaching Kellister,¡± Storyteller said. ¡°Known for their role in the lumber and reagent trades.¡±

    [Gift of the Wanderer] experienced gained

    Experience: 19%

    ¡°Like Felisen,¡± Cadence said.

    ¡°Very similar, yes.¡± Storyteller¡¯s voice grew troubled as he added, ¡°In more ways than one, apparently.¡±

    Cadence looked up at the older man¡¯s tone, surprised, and Storyteller gestured with his chin towards the horizon. Ahead, the road cut through another little stand of trees, clearly heavily harvested, but sufficient to block their view of the village.

    The trees weren¡¯t tall enough to conceal the pillars of smoke drifting into the sky from beyond them, though.

    ¡°An attack?¡± Cadence asked, worried.

    ¡°So it would seem.¡± Storyteller¡¯s voice was concerned as he instructed her, ¡°I¡¯m going ahead. Try to keep up, but don¡¯t use your Surge.¡±

    That said, he lengthened his stride, not quite running, but using the full length of his legs. Cadence had to all but jog to keep up with the taller man, but after a brief glance, Storyteller kept moving without slowing down. They passed quickly through the farmland outside of the village, and Cadence noted that the fields were empty. On a day like this, there should¡¯ve been half a dozen people out in each of the fields, tending to the crops. There was every chance the village was actively under attack even as they approached.

    The pair quickly entered the brief stand of trees that straddled the road, and as soon as the foliage protected them from casual observation, Storyteller seemed to¡­ change. His stride and bearing was suddenly rigid and formal, his eyes both piercing blue and intensely narrowed. He made a sharp gesture with one hand, and Cadence only recognized it as the motion of drawing a sword as he seemed to pull his blade out of thin air.

    It was as keen and beautiful and deadly as she remembered, nearly as long as she was tall, and studded with a trio of polished, fist-sized blue gems. As they approached the late morning sunlight on the farside of the grove, Cadence noted the sun shining off of Storyteller¡¯s cloak, which had at some point turned from plain tan canvas to a bright gray silk that flashed like silver when the light hit it right.

    ¡°My name is Sir Toren Cifel.¡±

    Cadence blinked in surprise. She had spent so long thinking of the man she traveled with as simply ¡°Storyteller¡± that she had stopped thinking about what his real name must be. ¡°Really?¡±

    Storyteller shot her a sharp look over his shoulder without breaking stride. ¡°For the sake of this village, yes. Sir Toren Cifel of the Argent Order. You¡¯re my squire. Understand?¡±

    Cadence¡¯s eyes widened, then narrowed as she got his implication. He wasn¡¯t revealing anything to her, he was giving what their story would be when they reached the village. ¡°Toren Cifel, Argent Order, squire. Got it.¡±

    Without a word, Storyteller reached into one of his numerous small packs and pulled out a small vial. The liquid inside was an odd mix of orange and purple, swirling separately instead of mixing together. She recognized it as a restoration potion, one which would restore both her stamina and focus if needed. She caught it when it was tossed to her and slipped it into her vest.

    Cadence didn¡¯t need instruction. He hadn¡¯t given her a potion, and she had never asked for one, after any of her previous fights with minor monsters along the road. The only other time he had offered her one was back on the Beltley farm, when she had overexerted herself in her first true fight with a monster. If he was giving her one now, he expected the coming fight to be at least as bad as that one, and they both knew that there was only one ability Cadence could copy from Teller that merited the potion.

    [Gift of Lightning] reflected

    [Lightning Bolt] - Active, Elemental, Attack - Shoot a single bolt of lightning at a target. Attack is brief, but destructive, and will pass through most obstacles. Major quintessence cost (converted to major stamina and focus cost).

    Cadence frowned back at Storyteller, and felt the power of his most potent ability settle into her soul.

    Finally, they emerged into the dazzling light on the farside of the copse¨Cand were greeted by the smell of burning buildings and the sound of screams.

 Chapter 41 - Cadence

    Storyteller stopped long enough to survey the village, and Cadence did the same, not knowing what else to do.

    The village was perhaps another half mile down the road, with one more farm between them and the broken fences that had marked its borders. Still, they were close enough for her to make out a large number of roughly humanoid shapes running through the streets and along the edges of the town, many of them carrying torches. That explained the flames then.

    In some places, conflict was evident. Some were clearly one sided, the raiders falling quickly before coordinated and powerful attacks, while others were more desperate struggles. The village¡¯s hunters must¡¯ve been badly outnumbered for the citizens themselves to be stepping in¨Cbut Cadence knew that those with the gift of the laborer, or even some of the Artisan¡¯s blessings, could be plenty dangerous on their own.

    ¡°Gnolls,¡± Storyteller explained tersely. He seemed to be searching through his packs for something even as his eyes darted about, giving Cadence the impression he could see much more than her. Of course, she had no idea how high his own awareness attribute was. ¡°They have no innate magic, and are slightly weaker on average than a normal person without gifts. But they¡¯re trained soldiers, and well armed. You should be able to take one safely. If there¡¯s two, use my gift. If there¡¯s three, run.¡±

    Cadence nodded grimly. She quickly pulled out her shortbow and strung it as Storyteller continued.

    ¡°They fight similar to yourself. Fast, little armor, light weapons. Some of them will undoubtedly be archers too, so be aware of yourself.¡±

    ¡°Where will you be?¡± His words made it clear she was going to be on her own.

    ¡°There are two ogres in the center of town. They need my help there.¡± He looked down at her, and for the first time since they saw the smoke, he hesitated. ¡°Are you-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± Cadence interrupted. ¡°Go.¡±

    The resolve returned to Storyteller¡¯s face, and he nodded. Then he was simply gone, leaving Cadence wondering how high his speed really was, too.

    ¡°Right then,¡± Cadence muttered to herself. Not knowing what else to do, she slipped her strung bow back into her quiver and set off towards the village. She was tempted to Surge her speed, but held off, knowing that she should save such a potent ability. Instead, she resumed jogging towards the town, relying on her passive stamina boon to keep moving.

    As she approached the edge of the town, a series of shrill screams drew Cadence¡¯s attention to a young woman, perhaps a few years older than her, running through one of the nearby fields towards her. She had muddled brown hair common in the heartlands, a curvy figure adorned by a cute, if torn, dress,, and what could only have been a gnoll chasing her.

    The outsider was roughly humanoid, though considerably more bestial. Its face ended in a blunt muzzle that hung open to reveal a mouthful of yellow fangs and a lolling, canine tongue as it ran. Its arms were too long for its body, reaching nearly to its backward jointed knees. It wore only a simple leather jerkin, long enough to drape below its waist, and from head to toe it was covered in coarse, dun-colored fur.

    The woman flung a hand behind her in a purposeful motion, and Cadence realized she had thrown her shawl back at her pursuer. The gnoll batted the fabric out of the air¨Cbut as it did so, the simple cloth seemed to writhe and turn, wrapping around its clawed hand and tangling its fingers. Judging by the loud yap of pain it drew from the gnoll, the makeshift attack must¡¯ve been quite painful, even if it hadn¡¯t stopped the creature.

    Cadence quickly drew her bow with one hand and an arrow with another, setting it to the string while the gnoll was distracted, trying to keep chasing the girl even as it snapped and tore at the entangling shawl. It never even saw the arrow that sank into its gut, or the second that slammed into its neck.

    ¡°Thank you! Thank you!¡± the villager cried as she approached¨Cthen she screamed again as a crude arrow flashed by her, missing her by scant inches.

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me, run back to town!¡± Cadence snapped as she spun around, trying to find the source of the attack.

    ¡°B-but there¡¯s these giant things in town, they¡¯re destroying everything!¡±

    Cadence snarled at the treeline across the field, where she spotted another gnoll crouched, an ugly hunting bow held ready. She snapped another arrow to her bow¨Cthe same green fletched kind she had used for the first gnoll¨Cand told the girl, ¡°Not for long! I promise you¡¯ll be safer there than here!¡±

    Cadence quickly sighted and released her arrow, but accomplished little more than distracting her enemy, not that she expected to do much more at their current range. With both her and the gnoll shooting at the very limit of their short bows, the chances of a hit were low¨Cbut low was very much not the same as impossible.

    ¡°Come with me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a little busy, if you haven¡¯t noticed!¡±

    Running would give the gnoll archer all the chance it needed to get closer to them and shoot more accurately at their backs. Even as she thought that, another arrow shot through the space between the two of them, and Cadence cursed, hurrying to fit another arrow to her string. ¡°Now go!¡±

    Finally, the woman turned to run, and Cadence shifted her focus solely to the gnoll, sending her next arrow across the field, where it thudded into a tree next to the outsider. But now that she didn¡¯t need to stay by the other girl anymore, she started slowly pacing toward the gnoll even as she fit another arrow to her bow, closing the distance between them.

    The gnoll neglected to do the same, holding its position. Three more arrows flashed towards her as she approached. The first two went wide, one extremely so, but when the last hit the dirt less than a foot away from her, Cadence knew she had gotten as close as she dared. She¡¯d only get one more arrow, perhaps two if she was lucky, so reluctantly, she knew it was time to tip her hand.

    [Soul Surge] activated

    Coordination attribute boosted

    In the course of the numerous minor fights she had won in her travels with Storyteller, Cadence had thoroughly tested her Soul Surge on all of her attributes. In Felisen, she had relied heavily on speed and strength, which she had seen the other hunters use to great effect. On the surface, they were the most effective things to boost, providing simple, straightforward benefits. But she had been surprised to find the effectiveness of using the ability to improve her coordination.

    Cadence had been training intensely since she had received her gifts, but it had still barely been two months. Compared to the experience of an opponent like a gnoll, her skills were clumsy at best. But the enhanced dexterity and reflexes granted by a boosted coordination attribute could go a long way to making up that deficit.

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    Additionally, while Cadence had only been training to really fight for two months, she had been shooting a bow since she was old enough to draw one back. Coordination helped her guide her hand the way she wanted in her mind, enhancing her ability to quickly and accurately aim.

    The final critical factor improving her attack was indicated by the red fletching on her arrow¡¯s butt. While every arrow her mother gave her was of a far higher quality than the rough hewn arrows the gnoll had likely made for itself, the ten red-fletched arrows in her quiver were true masterworks, their shafts made with the help of Old Man Callahan from vitalwood. The bone of their arrowheads and even the feathers of their fletching were harvested from slain arcane beasts. Magic was imbued into them deeply enough to lend them their own potency, helping to make up for Cadence¡¯s lack of special attacks.

    Of course, the gnoll she had been caught in a shootout with had no way of knowing any of this. So far, it had only seen her shoot with accuracy similar to its own. So the look of surprise on its bestial face was worth the wait, as her arrow cleanly shot across the distance between them, passing right between its arms and its drawn bow, to sink cleanly and deeply into its gut.

    Cadence didn¡¯t waste her time with another arrow as the outsider fell to the ground, snarling and thrashing in pain. She dropped her bow back into its quiver and sprinted towards her enemy even as she reached for the hatchet still riding at her side. She had the wickedly sharp little axe in hand by the time she reached the gnoll, and the creature only just managed to notice the whistling of the descending blade through its pain a scant moment before the weapon crashed down on its head.

    Abruptly soaked in the gnoll¡¯s blood, Cadence wobbled in place, recalling the first time she killed a monster in real combat¨Cthe goat goblin at the Beltley farm. But she wasn¡¯t the same girl she had been just six weeks before. She had no time to get sick, and adrenaline and the power of her Soul Surge still sang through her body.

    Has it really been so little time since then? she asked herself.

    With quick motions, she knelt next to the gnoll¡¯s body and dug her arrow out of its gut, trying to ignore the sharp scent of bile and waste that filled her nose as she did. At least she had decided to boost her coordination instead of her awareness¨Cif her senses were any stronger, the stench might have pushed her over the fragile line into sickness.

    As it was, she fought off the wave of nausea and stepped away from the body. As she had expected, the gnoll¡¯s thrashing had nearly snapped the expensive magical arrow, but there was a reason Ryme had paid to have Callahan make the shafts out of vitalwood. As the name implied, the wood was still alive in some way, and given a few days, it could actually grow back together. It was a testament to the old carpenter¡¯s skill that he had been able to work with the infamously difficult wood at all.

    As she examined the damaged arrow, Cadence heard the sound of something crashing through the woods to her right, from the direction of town, and she hurriedly stepped behind a tree. Her coordination boon still guided her steps, and what little sound she made didn¡¯t compare to the crashing of the approaching gnolls. The tree she chose was thick enough that the two creatures didn¡¯t notice her as they hurried past. The one in the lead still carried a burning torch in one hand, while the other held an odd weapon, somewhere between a short sword and a long knife, made from what looked like bone and some kind of black glass. The gnoll in the rear had its arms full of what must¡¯ve been loot¨Ca thick canvas sack thrown over one shoulder, while the other clutched a bundled cloth.

    The two gnolls pulled up short when they saw the body Cadence had left behind, and she carefully slipped further around the tree, fitting another red-fletched arrow to her bowstring. From her hiding place she could hear the two communicating in what must¡¯ve been their language, a series of growling yips and barks, punctuated by repeated sniffing sounds. Of course. They must have some sort of enhanced sense of smell, given their bestial nature.

    Cadence felt sweat bead on her forehead, and she shifted her fingers along her bow, but she didn¡¯t hear any further movement from them. The septic reek of the gutshot gnoll still filled the air. Maybe it was enough to confuse their sense of smell.

    Finally, she heard one snap a harsh word, and the monstrous pair began to move through the woods again. She slowly blew out a breath, relaxing her bow as the monsters moved away¨Cthen she thought of the torch and the plunder they carried. She thought of the Honeyed Pear, of Old Man Callahan¡¯s shop yard, of market day crowds and shared meals. And she thought of the Beltley farm.

    These monsters had attacked this village for no seemingly reason besides to burn and kill and steal. And she was hiding from them?

    Though part of her knew it was a bad idea, she stepped out of her hiding place. The gnolls were perhaps a hundred feet away, well within the range of her bow, especially with her coordination surge. The one in the back was still weighed down with the items it had stolen from those unable to defend themselves from it, so it died first. Two flashes of red hit it¨Cone in the small of its back, the other right between its shoulder blades. It fell, dead before it could make a sound, and the crash of its body hitting the ground was no louder than its steps had been.

    It was an old archer¡¯s trick Ryme had taught her. Take down the target in the back first, and the one in the front wouldn¡¯t know it¨Cthe same technique she used when she unleashed her first arrows at the Beltley farm. The torch-bearing raider hadn¡¯t noticed the death of its companion, so it was completely unprepared when an arrow struck it in the thigh. It was just far enough away that Cadence hadn¡¯t managed to kill it like its companion, but hamstrung, its reverse-jointed leg folded underneath it.

    Cadence sought to end this gnoll the same way she had the first, dropping her bow and rushing towards it with her hatchet ready, but this time, her enemy was armed and, even worse, had managed to keep its presence of mind. Even as she approached, the gnoll scrambled around and desperately swung out with its torch, forcing her to take a step backward. She paused, trying to figure out the best way to bat the torch away, and the gnoll struck.

    It was wounded, so the lunge it suddenly made with its odd sword was clumsy, but only her continued coordination boost allowed Cadence to step out of the way in time to avoid the attack. The edge of the blade just grazed her leather vest, but even that was enough to slice cleanly through the armor like simple cloth and leave a shallow cut along her stomach. It burned, but Cadence had experienced enough minor wounds to fight through the pain.

    Her sidestep had carried her around the side of the lunging gnoll, and she quickly struck with her hatchet, a sharp, brutal chop burying the blade in the gnoll¡¯s neck and dropping it to the ground.

    Cadence grimaced, trying to ignore the pain of her abdomen, and leaned down to recover her hatchet. But when she went to pull at it, it didn¡¯t move, besides tugging the gnoll¡¯s corpse a bit. Cadence frowned, all too aware of her dwindling Surge time, and tried again to pull the axe free. It still held, stuck in the gnoll¡¯s backbone¨Cwhich was something of a problem, as another crash beyond the treeline heralded the arrival of two more gnolls, these ones both armed with the same bone and glass blades. The outsiders looked from her, still attempting to free her hatchet, to the three bodies around her.

    There was a crystalline moment of stillness, and then they leapt forward.

    She barely had time to swear before the two gnolls attacked, their blades flashing. Cadence backed up quickly, her coordination just barely giving her the reflexes and dexterity to dodge through the rapid, savage slashes of the two outsiders, often by less than an inch. As she did, Cadence cursed herself for her eagerness. She had dropped her bow when she rushed the last gnoll, and with her hatchet stuck in the body of her last victim, she had no other weapons besides her little knife. She doubted the gnolls would be much intimidated by a thin, short girl trying to cut them with a knife that could barely pare an apple.

    Not that her hatchet would¡¯ve done much good. Her victories against the gnolls so far had been predicated by surprise and the dirtiest tactics she could manage. In an even fight against just one gnoll, they had the advantage over her in skill, experience, and reach, and if that one lunge had been any indicator, their glass swords had innate potency, just like her special arrows. Against two of them, she¡¯d get cut to shreds long before she could get in a swing with her hatchet.

    Only one choice then. She needed to make some space so she could use the ability she had copied from Storyteller. With luck, she could take out one of them with it and make it to her bow to kill the other. But, she realized with a sinking feeling, the gnolls seemed determined to avenge their dead companions, pressing her so that she couldn¡¯t get away, and one was beginning to edge to her left. Once they flanked her, even her improved coordination couldn¡¯t keep her alive.

    Cadence gritted her teeth¨Cthen she saw a third gnoll running through the woods towards them. This one held a crude spear tipped by the same black glass as the swords she had seen, and Cadence knew it would be simple for the outsider to spit her on it while she dodged the others. Even if she managed to fry one, using the copied ability would give the other two plenty of time to kill her. Maybe Storyteller or someone experienced with the gift of lightning could use it while actively dodging three enemies, but Cadence knew she couldn¡¯t. She just hadn¡¯t practiced enough with it.

    She was going to die.

 Chapter 42 - Cadence

    The gnolls were practically slobbering as they closed in on her, knowing as well as she did that she was trapped. This close, she could see that their eyes were a bloodshot yellow, and she could smell their foul breath. Their wide black noses twitched with excitement, knowing that the kill was coming.

    They can probably smell my fear, Cadence reflected grimly. She decided then and there she wouldn¡¯t just let them savor their kill. If she was going to die, she¡¯d take as many of them with her as possible.

    And then everything changed, as the curved blade of a sickle suddenly wrapped around the spear-wielder''s throat from behind. Its eyes barely had time to go wide before the weapon pulled back with savage force, cutting through its neck in a single swift movement and a burst of blood.

    The body fell to reveal a young woman, a couple years older than Cadence. At first Cadence mistook her for the girl she had saved earlier¨Cshe had the same brown hair and tan skin common to the heartlands. But this woman was taller, her hair fell in long, curly ringlets down past her shoulders, and under her leathers, she showed all the soft curves of a sword blade. The other girl, even for her attempts to protect herself, had seemed as helpless as a sheep set upon by a wolf, while this woman gave the impression of a weapon in motion as she moved. Her fine-featured face was set in a look of intense fury as she turned on the remaining gnolls.

    The two outsiders were stunned for a moment longer than Cadence by the young hunter¡¯s sudden appearance, and Cadence acted quickly. She took a pair of quick steps back and to the left, lifted her right arm, and released a savage bolt of electricity. A flash, a crash, and a yelp heralded the second gnoll¡¯s death, along with a sudden breathless exhaustion from the ability¡¯s high cost.

    Apparently that display was enough for the remaining gnoll to take the better part of valor and turn tail. Cadence swore as it began to run through the trees and ran for her bow, but the brunette woman didn¡¯t even bother to follow after the outsider. Instead, she lifted her free hand in a casual motion, and simply snapped her fingers. At first nothing seemed to happen, but the gnoll only made it a couple more steps before the ground abruptly gave out beneath it, dropping it down a perfectly circular hole.

    Cadence blinked in surprise. She had seen a lot of interesting and powerful gifts in her life, but making a pit trap with a single motion was a new one. Still, she could hear the gnoll yelping and scrabbling at the sides of the pit.

    The older girl¡¯s upper lip lifted in a snarl. She snapped again¨Cand the sounds of the gnoll''s attempts at escape were abruptly cut off as the pit collapsed back in around it.

    Only once that was done did she turn back to Cadence. Suddenly, the fierce glare relaxed from her face¨Cwhich did little to soften her features. She still had cheek bones Cadence felt confident she could cut a finger on. But when one corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile, Cadence was surprised to notice a charming dimple form in her cheeks.

    ¡°Well. You¡¯re not who I was expecting when I came out here.¡±

    Cadence couldn¡¯t help a surprised blink. The older girl spoke with the refined accent of a born-and-raised city dweller, rather than the plainer tones of a village hunter she had expected. ¡°Cadence,¡± she introduced herself. ¡°I¡¯m with the mad man I would assume is busy making a spectacle of himself back in town.¡±

    The other girl¡¯s lips parted in acknowledgement. ¡°Alyssia Dennan. A pleasure.¡±

    #

    ¡°What are you going to do with that?¡±

    Cadence looked up at Alyssia, then back down at the blade she had taken from one of the fallen gnolls. It was an odd design, a twisted bone forming the handle and the curved back of the weapon, while the blade itself was an odd matte black glass, completely opaque. In construction, it was closer to an axe than the sword or knife it more closely resembled. She concentrated on it briefly, and felt a little pull in the back of her head as she used one of her wanderer abilities.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] activated

    Gnoll Raidsword - Imbued craft - Light weapon favored by gnoll raiders. Made from obsidian and ogre bones, granting it innate tier one potency.

    ¡°These blades are magical, somehow,¡± Cadence explained. ¡°When this one cut me, it went through my armor like it was nothing.¡± She gestured with one hand to her side. The wound had been healed by the same potion she had used to restore her stamina and focus after her Soul Surge wore off, but her vest and shirt still remained torn.

    ¡°Interesting.¡± Alyssia¡¯s tone implied that it wasn¡¯t, but that she was trying to be polite. ¡°Ready to go?¡±

    After the fight, Cadence had taken a few minutes to circulate the site of the skirmish, gleaning her expended arrows and finally managing to free her hatchet. It turned out, Alyssia had been pursuing the same town girl that Cadence had saved. It was simple luck that had brought her around in time to save Cadence from the trio of raiders.

    Cadence tucked the blade into her belt, opposite her hatchet, and adjusted her quiver so that it instead hung across her back, the bow and arrows sticking up above one shoulder. ¡°Yep. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    The older girl led them away at a brisk pace, and Cadence had to lengthen her steps to keep up. But while Alyssia may have been nearly a foot taller than her, Cadence was used to keeping up with Storyteller, who towered even taller. Even after the fight, her stamina boon was enough to let her keep up.

    ¡°So what happened in town?¡± Cadence asked between breaths while they walked.

    ¡°They always have a lot of trouble with gnolls around here,¡± Alyssia explained, ¡°but never anything like this. Not only did they have two ogres in the van, they were led by a witch.¡±

    Cadence took a deep breath, pretending she knew what the older girl meant by ¡°a witch.¡±

    Alyssia¡¯s tone was solemn but even as she continued to explain. ¡°By the time the hunter chief managed to kill the witch, the rest of the pack had made it into town, with the ogres in the lead. Things got messy after that. Only their hunter chief had the gifts to fight the ogres head on, but he¡¯s old, and was injured by the witch before he took her down.¡±

    ¡°What? Too big to drop down a pit?¡±

    Alyssia smiled grimly. ¡°I slowed them down, but not much more than that.¡± She gave Cadence a meaningful look. ¡°Then your friend showed up. One of the ogres was dead in seconds, and he put the other on the back foot easily enough. Once the rest of us were freed up, we were able to clean up the gnolls easily enough. You were lucky enough to meet some of the quickest to flee.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, lucky me,¡± Cadence muttered.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone fight like that guy,¡± Alyssia observed. ¡°He took on two ogres by himself, and it wasn¡¯t even close. Who is he?¡±

    Cadence shrugged. She thought for a second, but after the fight, she couldn¡¯t quite recall the name Storyteller had given her. Instead, she asked, ¡°Who are you?¡±

    So far, Alyssia had kept up the pace even as they walked, but that question drew a moment¡¯s pause from her. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re not a hunter. I don¡¯t even think you¡¯re from Kellister,¡± Cadence said. ¡°You weren¡¯t upset enough about the attack for it to be your friends and neighbors dying. And you keep calling saying ¡®them¡¯ when you¡¯re talking about the villagers and the hunters. Plus, you talk like you¡¯re from the city, not a village.¡±

    Alyssia looked over her shoulder at Cadence with an intense frown. Then, instead of answering, she lengthened her stride, forcing Cadence up to a jog to keep up with her.

    #

    By the time the two girls made it to Kellister, Cadence had managed to work herself breathless keeping up with Alyssia. Whatever gifts the older girl had, they clearly granted her a stamina boon too.

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    The fight in the village was clearly over, but the work had only just begun. As they walked through the streets of the little village, Cadence was struck again at how similar it was to Felisen. The biggest difference was in the construction of many of the homes, which incorporated much more stone and brick than the wooden buildings common to Felisen. That was all that had saved many of them from the gnolls¡¯ torches.

    The streets were full of people responding to the aftermath of the attack with the hardened practicality of those who had spent their lives living away from the aegis of any of the great cities. Hard-eyed men and women in practical clothing, likely the laborers that lived in the town, cutting lumber and quarrying stone, were surveying the homes for damage and figuring repair needs. Others, dressed in more comfortable and casual clothing, offered Alyssia and Cadence small smiles and brief greetings as they tried to collect the town¡¯s remaining food, supplies, goods, and children, so that they could begin the difficult job of figuring out how to keep the village alive over the next couple months.

    It was fortunate, Cadence reflected, that the attack had come in summer. Within the next couple weeks, the farmers would be able to produce an early crop. No one would starve or freeze to death while Kellister recovered from the raid. Alyssia didn¡¯t share where they were heading to, and Cadence didn¡¯t bother to ask, too busy looking over the damaged town. It was all too easy to imagine Felisen in similar shape, and Cadence tried to ignore the uncomfortable wriggling in her guts at the thought.

    In time, Cadence noticed that Alyssia was leading them towards the center of the town, which proved to be a large square of smooth paving stones built around an ornate well. There was a small crowd gathered in the square, divided into two clear groups. One was clustered near a large house on the edge of the square, fully intact and the largest building Cadence had seen in the little village. The other was gathered around the well itself, and Cadence recognized Storyteller in the middle of the crowd, at least a head taller than the villagers.

    Once the adventurer noticed them, he turned to say something to a man next to him, then quickly negotiated through the press of townsfolk to make his way to them. ¡°Cadence,¡± he greeted her. His eyes were still a serious, icy blue, and he still carried himself with the rigidity of the knight he was pretending to be. His eyes shifted to Alyssia. ¡°Sir Toren Cifel. I hope my squire wasn¡¯t too much of a burden during the raid.¡±

    ¡°Alyssia.¡± The older girl¡¯s absent frown flickered briefly into something brighter. ¡°And no need. By my count, she killed at least five of the scavengers, and distracted two others for me.¡±

    ¡°Truly?¡±

    Cadence shrugged and tried not to look too pleased with herself. ¡°They weren¡¯t very smart.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear. Now then-ah. Perfect.¡±

    Storyteller turned as a deep voice began to bawl out a series of orders into the crowd.

    ¡°Frederick, Ren, Elis, I want a thorough patrol through the woodline and a count of how many escaped. Anna, take half a dozen of these layabouts and find out what the Eblists need to get everyone back on their feet. Stoneworkers, with me, let¡¯s see how many of these houses we can make livable by nightfall. The rest of you, you¡¯re with Doren on corpse duty, I want these outsiders on a pyre by the time the sun is down.¡±

    The crowd quickly dispersed, each led by at least one person in hunting leathers, clearly armed and moving with the surety and confidence battle-gifted. Kellister¡¯s hunters. Soon, there were just a handful of men and a single woman left, all standing with an older man who Cadence immediately pegged as Ryme¡¯s equivalent in the town, its chief hunter. He was a stout man, broad in the shoulders, the chest, and the gut, with a long gray beard. Despite the bandages wrapped around one arm and his head, he surveyed the bustling square with an unmistakable air of authority, and he still carried a thick, double-headed axe in one hand.

    ¡°Get started,¡± he told the stoneworkers around him. ¡°I¡¯ll join you shortly.¡± That said, the man stomped over to join Cadence, Storyteller, and Alyssia. ¡°This your squire then?¡±

    ¡°Yes, this is Cadence. Cadence, this is Bernard, chief hunter of Kellister.¡±

    Cadence nodded her head low enough for her shoulders to move with the motion. It was a gesture of respect she had seen the people in town make to her mother often enough, not as elaborate as a bow, but perfectly clear nonetheless. ¡°Sir.¡±

    ¡°Little spit of a thing, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Maybe so, but she killed near half a dozen gnolls by herself,¡± Alyssia told him.

    A pair of shaggy white eyebrows went up, and the old man gave her a second look. ¡°That so? Good for you then. And my thanks again, Sir Toren.¡±

    ¡°I only did my duty. No thanks are needed.¡±

    ¡°Well enough then. I got to get to work, make sure nobody goes too cold tonight. What of you two now?¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯ll stick around for a few days,¡± Storyteller told him, to Cadence¡¯s surprise. They hadn¡¯t rested more than a night at any village since they left Felisen.

    ¡°Well, if that¡¯s what you want, I certainly won¡¯t argue. Dunno how nice of accommodations we¡¯ll be able to provide, though.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. Argent knights are used to sleeping on the ground. A spare pallet would be plenty.¡±

    Bernard¡¯s eye glittered with something more genuinely respectful, and the hunter chief gave Storyteller the same deep nod Cadence had offered him. ¡°Appreciate that, then.¡±

    The man began to turn away, but Storyteller called out to him.

    ¡°I actually have a suspicion, if you don¡¯t mind another moment¡¯s attention.¡±

    ¡°Hmph? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°A raid pack of gnolls this large doesn¡¯t just come out of nowhere,¡± Storyteller said. ¡°If I had to guess, there¡¯s somewhere nearby that they generally spawn in. Somewhere you need to patrol more often than others. Am I correct?¡±

    The old man mused on that. ¡°There¡¯s the Cairn Glade,¡± he finally said.

    ¡°Sounds just right. Would you mind if I went to see this place?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. I see no problem with it, but I won¡¯t have a spare body to guide you out there until late tomorrow, or the day after.¡±

    ¡°I can take them out there, Bernard,¡± Alyssia volunteered.

    ¡°You think so?¡±

    ¡°I know the way, and your people know the town better than me. I¡¯d just get underfoot trying to help here.¡±

    The stout old hunter chief considered for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Well enough. Stay safe.¡±

    #

    Cadence was beginning to get grumpy. She and Storyteller had already been walking for hours before they reached Kellister, and it felt like she had burned an entire day¡¯s worth of energy in the fights that followed, only to then end up practically having to jog after Alyssia on their trip back to town. But they had scarcely taken a moment to rest before they set out once again, bound for this Cairn Glade.

    In the midst of all of it, Cadence felt like she hadn¡¯t spoken in hours. Apparently squires of the Argent Order weren¡¯t expected to be consulted when knights made decisions, so Cadence found herself simply following after Storyteller and their guide, unable to ask why this trip was so urgent, what was important about the Cairn Glade, or even why Storyteller had decided on this persona for Kellister when he had always been himself in Felisen.

    Unoccupied by anything besides the steady rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other, Cadence found her mind drifting back to the fight with the gnolls. She was stunned by her own actions as she considered them, and didn¡¯t know if she was more horrified at how close she had come to death or at how easily she had taken the raider¡¯s lives. There hadn¡¯t been any option, of course. It had all happened too fast. First she had saved that girl that was being chased, then she couldn¡¯t turn her back on the archer once he saw them, then¡­

    Then there were the other two. She hadn¡¯t had to fight them. She had hidden herself successfully, and they were too inattentive to have noticed her. She could¡¯ve let them go and slipped back to town easily enough. With her coordination still boosted, she likely could¡¯ve even avoided the three that Alyssia was pursuing. Cadence didn¡¯t doubt that whoever the older girl was, she could¡¯ve handled them by herself, even three-on-one.

    But she had let herself get caught up in her anger. Kellister was so similar to Felisen that it was all too easy to picture the gnolls rampaging through the streets of her home. Old Man Callahan¡¯s mansion burning down. The Honeyed Pear a blackened ruin. Bodies thrown into the bonfire pit. Her mother¡­

    Cadence had let her emotions control her, and she had almost died because of it. First the gnoll she had thought crippled nearly killed her with that lunge, then she had gotten surprised by the others, caught flat-footed and unarmed. It was her first fight without any help expected¨Cno Ryme or Storyteller looking over her shoulder, ready to step in. And she had still made the wrong decision. If Alyssia hadn¡¯t happened to follow that group of gnolls, they would¡¯ve killed her, simple as that. It was a stupid decision.

    But, as she thought back to the moment, hiding behind a tree like a frightened little girl while the two monsters passed her by, woodsmoke and blood and offal in her nose and the image of her home sharing Kellister¡¯s fate in her mind¡­ Deep down, Cadence knew that even if she went back to that moment, even knowing what would follow, she¡¯d make the same decision again.

    Gift of the Wanderer

    Novice level

    Experience: 28%

    Explore new places and understand the heart of an adventurer to gain experience.

    Cadence blinked in surprise as the message popped up. She had looked at her abilities constantly since she left Felisen, checking her experience every night, but it had never just opened by itself like that. It was normally trying new abilities that grew her gift of the echo, and seeing new things that grew her gift of the wanderer. In fact, she was quite sure that bit about ¡°the heart of an adventurer¡± had never been there before. And the boost was significant¨Cshe had been at 19% before the fight.

    Just one more thing she couldn¡¯t ask Storyteller about until they had some time alone.

    Cadence sighed heavily and, as if the sound had provoked her, Alyssia whirled around. Her glare was mostly for Storyteller, but the young woman had plenty to go around to Cadence too.

    ¡°Alright. We¡¯re not taking another step until I find out who you two are.¡±

 Chapter 43 - Cadence

    Storyteller didn¡¯t falter, merely arching an imperious eyebrow at the accusation. ¡°And what would have you think that we¡¯re not who we claim to be?¡±

    Alyssia regarded the man with fierce eyes, her back and shoulders rigid. ¡°Well you see Sir Toren, my full name is Alyssia Dennan. I¡¯m the eldest scion of the Dennan family.¡±

    Once more, Storyteller didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Are you now? And what would such a noble figure as yourself be doing in a remote lumber village?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m asking the questions right now,¡± Alyssia snapped.

    Cadence wasn¡¯t sure exactly who the Dennan family were, but she knew enough to pick up the context. Surnames were rare in the heartlands, where most commoners simply identified with their village. Her bearing and the emphasis on her surname told Cadence that this woman must¡¯ve been an aristocrat, likely from the nearest bastion city, Elliven.

    ¡°You told Bernard you were a Knight-Gallant of the Argent Order, but I know every knight in Elliven, be they Argent or Emerald, at least by name. ¡®Toren Cifel¡¯ is not one of them.¡±

    Something about the way Alyssia said the name made Cadence squint, and she rolled her eyes as she suddenly understood the name. Did he really just use an anagram as his alias?

    ¡°Have I or my squire done ought to imply we are anything less than we appear to be?¡± Storyteller asked calmly.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Alyssia replied. ¡°If you are lying, and lying to assume the identity of a knight at that, you cannot be trusted, skilled as you may be.¡±

    ¡°Ah, another excellent point. Did it not occur to you that, were I this foul villain you claim I am, that it would be unwise to so accuse me, alone, when you know full well the difference in our levels?¡±

    Alyssia frowned. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t harm me, not when Bernard is expecting us back together. To say nothing of a certain genuine knight-gallant who would take exception, were anything to befall me.¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s face suddenly brightened at the girl¡¯s claim. His manner relaxed as his eyes suddenly flicked back to brown, and his mouth split into a lazy grin. ¡°A knight like Adeline Argent, correct?¡±

    Alyssia blinked, disconcerted at the sudden change in Storyteller¡¯s demeanor. ¡°Possibly, yes.¡±

    ¡°So Adeline sent you here, did she? Interesting¡­¡± Storyteller held up his hands in a gesture of harmlessness. ¡°Allow me to clarify then.¡±

    The man promptly reached into one of his travel pouches, and lightly tossed a small, glittering object to Alyssia.

    The young woman caught it easily, and held it up to inspect. It was a silver badge, embossed with a complex design and engraved with the name ¡°Toren Cifel.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s genuine,¡± Storyteller reassured her. ¡°You¡¯re right of course, Toren Cifel hasn¡¯t been to Elliven in quite some time, but I am indeed a knight-gallant, and I promise you that should you ask Adeline about me, she¡¯ll recognize the name. I saw her, actually, a couple months back.¡±

    Alyssia¡¯s face held a healthy amount of skepticism, but she offered him back his badge. ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°It is. As it so happens, I asked her to drop by Elliven. There was a trial duel, on the first day of spring, that I asked her to bear witness to.¡±

    Cadence didn¡¯t understand the reference, but Alyssia¡¯s eyes went wide, and she drew in a sharp breath.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± This time, the question held none of her earlier suspicion. She sounded more awed than anything else.

    Storyteller grinned. ¡°Here, today, I¡¯m Sir Toren Cifel. Other times, in other places, I may be someone else, but Kellister needs Sir Toren Cifel right now. Fair enough?¡±

    Alyssia seemed to suppress a shiver, and Cadence couldn¡¯t shake the impression that it was only a noble¡¯s lifetime of self-control that kept her unease from showing outwardly. But the older girl nodded. ¡°Fair enough,¡± she confirmed.

    She turned to continue their walk into the woods, Storyteller close behind, and Cadence complained, ¡°Is anyone going to tell me what just happened?¡±

    #

    ¡°There it is.¡±

    The three were crouched behind a fallen tree, looking in on what the residents of Kellister called the Carin Glade. From what Cadence could gather, the place held a similar reputation to the barrens outside Felisen, but it was significantly closer to town, having taken them less than an hour to reach it. And like the barrens, something about the glade set Cadence on edge.

    It took her a few minutes to place it. At a glance, it seemed like the Cairn Glade was little different from any other clearing that happened to open up in a forest. The most obviously disconcerting feature were its titular cairns, a handful of stacked rock towers of various sizes, ranging from only a couple feet high to taller than Cadence. Only upon further study did the other unnatural features show themselves.

    A light coating of forest detritus covered the floor of the glade in brown leaves and broken twigs, but grass and weeds didn¡¯t push through anywhere. There were no bushes, not even the resilient brambles common throughout the heartlands. In fact, nothing living grew in the clearing. Even the stacked rocks lacked any moss. Those stones themselves were odd, too. Most of the stone in the area was a simple light gray, judging by the bricks used in Kellister¡¯s buildings. But these stones were an odd shade of blue, threaded with black veins.

    All of it was enough that Cadence slowly realized that ¡°unnatural¡± wasn¡¯t quite correct. The glade was otherworldly. It was wrong. It belonged in a different forest, in a different place. Maybe even in a different world.

    [Gift of the Wanderer] experienced gained

    Experience: 39%

    Really? Even more? Apparently her gift agreed with her assessment of the place, based on the notable bit of experience it earned her.

    ¡°Now what?¡± Cadence asked, her voice a hushed whisper.

    Both of the older gifted shot her an unhappy look, then turned back to the glade without a word. Cadence rolled her eyes.

    They sat behind that fallen log for what felt like twenty minutes before Storyteller suddenly stirred. ¡°There. Both of you, get ready.¡±

    Cadence had sat down a while back, leaning against the log and distracting herself by examining the raidblade she had taken, but now she came to her feet, crouched again. The Carin Glade looked the same, but Cadence could tell something had changed. There was a sense in the air, a thickening, like she was pushed up against a thick curtain, barely able to make out the event occurring on the farside. It felt like a moonless night and unknown threat, stalking the woods. It was frightening and oppressive and malevolent.

    Cadence shivered, and without thinking, she activated her Soul Surge. Though she had mostly practiced using the ability to boost her physical attributes, Storyteller had encouraged to spend some time each day they were walking with one of her mental attributes boosted, so that she could adjust to the different mindsets they caused. This time, she boosted her will. Though she still had a hard time understanding the meanings of the various mental attributes, she knew that will governed her mental fortitude and emotional strength. Suddenly, the stirring in the magic felt less dominant, and her shivers stopped.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Storyteller gave her a brief look, and she suspected he knew what she just did, but he didn¡¯t comment. Next to him, Alyssia was shivering, only slightly more in control that Cadence had been without her boost. The older girl¡¯s gifts must¡¯ve neglected to boost her mental attributes.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Cadence asked in a whisper.

    Storyteller squinted as he stared forward, and she noticed that his eyes had turned the ominous yellow shade she associated with his most knowledgeable persona. ¡°They¡¯re crossing over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen it happen before,¡± Alyssia said quietly, clearly fighting to control her body¡¯s reaction to the malicious magic in the air.

    The sense of building energy seemed to reach a peak, and Cadence¡¯s eyes widened as she noticed a stone simply appear atop one of the cairns, the precarious stone tower not even wobbling. Otherwise, there was no indication of their world briefly crossing over with the place known only to them as the Chained World. There was no flash of light, no sound, not even a shifting of shadows, as the shifting magic hit a crescendo, and then abruptly returned to normal. Just a new stone at the top of one of the cairns, where there wasn¡¯t one before¨Cand a pair of outsiders, two more furry gnolls, that stepped out from around the two largest cairns, as if they had been there the whole time.

    ¡°Go!¡± Storyteller commanded, his voice a harsh whisper, and Cadence found herself moving even as Alyssia burst from her hiding place.

    The older girl didn¡¯t hesitate to pull her sickle clear, lunging at one of the gnolls while it was still disoriented, but Cadence paused. She had already wasted her Soul Surge on an attribute that wouldn¡¯t help her in battle. Instead, she used her other combat ability

    [Gift Reflection] - Active, Soul - Copy one gift ability from a nearby target. Gift abilities operate at Novice level regardless of the target¡¯s level. Abilities from certain gifts cannot be copied. This ability has a one hour cool down, but the copied ability is retained until it is used again.

    The most significant problem with her Gift Reflection was that it was dependent on what gifts her allies had that she could copy. And since Cadence had only a vague idea of what gifts Alyssia had, she had no control over what ability she copied. Storyteller reassured her that, as she leveled up, her augment would provide a way around this problem, but at Novice level, it was of little use.

    [Gift Divination] - Wanderer, Echo - Active, Utility, Soul - Learn the gifts possessed by a target. Can only be used on targets your level or lower.

    Still, in the end, Cadence couldn¡¯t argue the result.

    [Gift of Earth] reflected

    [Stone Toss] - Active, Attack - Control a stone as a projectile attack. Attack may fail based on the weight of the stone. Lesser quintessence cost (converted to lesser stamina and focus cost).

    Cadence turned to the nearest medium-sized cairn and lifted a hand even as instinctive understanding of her reflected ability filled her mind. One of the larger stones, nearly the size of her head, lifted into the air, and she directed it with a sharp motion and an act of will made simple by her Soul Surge. It struck the gnoll Alyssia hadn¡¯t yet reached in the stomach, causing it to double over as the breath was knocked from its lungs. That meant that the second stone she sent flying struck it in the head, sending the outsider sprawling on the ground.

    With a sharp smile, Cadence turned her attention on one of the larger cairns. The largest stone in the tower didn¡¯t budge, apparently too large for her Novice level copied ability, but she quickly found another, about halfway up, that she was able to move, and as it launched into the air, the precarious tower toppled, collapsing on top of the downed gnoll.

    [Gift of the Echo] experienced gained

    Experience: 25%

    Across the glade, Alyssia blinked in surprise, looking from the buried gnoll to Cadence. She had already cut down her target, but the noble was clearly confused by Cadence¡¯s use of a gift she hadn¡¯t displayed previously.

    ¡°Good.¡± Storyteller emerged from their hiding place before Alyssia could ask any questions. His eyes were still yellow, brilliant in the glade, and he was carrying a staff Cadence had never seen before.

    At first glance, it was a simple wooden rod little better than a walking stick. It lacked any ornamentation or embellishments. It barely even seemed to be sanded. But at the same time, it was so much more than a simple stick. The air seemed to shimmer imperceptibly around it, and trying to look at it too closely caused Cadence¡¯s eyes to lose focus. It had a sense of depth surrounding it that defied description, and Cadence felt sure that she could only perceive even that much because of her boosted will.

    ¡°Get behind the log,¡± Storyteller ordered them. Cadence and Alyssia shared a look, but his tone brooked no dissent, and they quickly obeyed. From their safe perch, they watched Storyteller plant his staff. For the second time in minutes, the two shivered as the ambient magic around them began to react to phenomena beyond their understanding.

    The same magic as before was still there, as domineering and cruel as ever, but this time, it was intertwined with something else. Something unyielding, a vastness of adamant will that pushed back against the magic of the Chained World. The conflicted source felt like summer sunshine and winter¡¯s first frost. It smelled of ozone and made Cadence¡¯s muscles twitch. The oppressive magic grew as it conflicted with the other source of magic, but that force of obdurate will refuted it and drove it back.

    Neither girl could speak as they watched what could only be called a battle between Storyteller and the magic of the Chained World. There was, once again, no visual display of the confrontation, just a man and a staff standing in the middle of a clearing. But Cadence could feel the very edges of the forces at play in the Cairn Glade, and she had no doubts about what she was watching. Somehow, Storyteller was pushing back the magic of the Chained World, separating it from the Realm.

    Then the turbulent magic stilled, and the Cairn Glade was gone. In its place was a clearing like any other. A few bushes stood out of the plush grass carpeting the glade, and the closest thing to a cairn was an old boulder leaning to one side.

    Storyteller sagged in place, and his staff was abruptly gone. For a few moments, the only sound in the glade was his heavy breathing as he slowly caught his breath. Then he stood, and looked at the log that Cadence and Alyssia were crouched behind. ¡°Well. That¡¯s that.¡±

    #

    ¡°What did you just do?¡± Cadence asked breathlessly, hustling to keep up with Storyteller¡¯s long strides as they headed back towards Kellister. Alyssia was fast-walking next to her, staying quiet, her face troubled.

    Cadence expected one of Storyteller¡¯s usual evasions, but he surprised her. ¡°What the villagers called the Cairn Glade was a thin place¨Ca place where the border between our world and another had begun to wear out. Not so different from the barrens near Felisen. I fixed it.¡±

    Cadence froze for a moment, shocked at the sudden information. So she hadn''t imagined the similarities between the two afterall. She had to jog to catch back up, as Storyteller didn¡¯t stop moving.

    By the time she made it back to the pair, Alyssia was already asking, ¡°How did you do that? I¡¯ve never seen anything like that before.¡±

    Storyteller waved a hand. ¡°It¡¯s complicated, and would require you to understand things you¡¯re still many levels away from catching glimpses of. Suffice it to say I¡¯ve picked up some tricks over the years, and I had some help.¡±

    ¡°That staff?¡± Cadence guessed.

    ¡°Among other things, but yes. The staff you saw is something of an oddity. It¡¯s an object that is more closely tied to this world than most things, which makes it quite useful in tying a space back to where it belongs.¡±

    ¡°It had a¡­ depth to it. Like it was more real than everything around it.¡±

    ¡°An accurate enough description.¡± The corner of Storyteller¡¯s mouth quirked up, but he remained facing forward. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you noticed.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything like that about it. I could just tell it was powerful,¡± Alyssia admitted.

    Cadence thought back to the day she had met Storyteller. She had passed out near the climax of his fight with the ogre, and when she awoke, she was outside of the barrens, sitting with him. She had assumed that was the case, at least. But now, after the display today, she considered that he had likely banished the barrens in the same way he did the Cairn Glade, and she could only be thankful no similar raid would befall her home.

    ¡°That¡¯s two spots like these, so close to each other. They can¡¯t be that common, right?¡± Cadence asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve certainly never heard of them,¡± Alyssia pointed out.

    ¡°Oh, you have,¡± Storyteller explained, never letting up on his brisk stride. ¡°Magically, they¡¯re no different from the Wastes, just on a significantly smaller scale.¡±

    That stunned Alyssia in the same way his earlier answers had shocked Cadence, and this time the noble girl had to catch up. ¡°But that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not possible!¡±

    Cadence could hear the eye roll in Storyteller¡¯s answer. ¡°I find nobles love the idea of things being ¡®impossible.¡¯ We¡¯re talking about magic, Alyssia, anything is possible.¡± He seemed troubled as he added, ¡°Some things are extremely unlikely, however.¡±

    ¡°Why is this happening then?¡±

    ¡°An excellent question as always, Cadence. And yet another I completely lack an answer to.¡±

    They continued walking in silence for a few minutes, both girls pondering that, before Alyssia asked, ¡°Why are you telling us all of this? This is¡­ a lot of information. Extremely important information.¡±

    Storyteller kept walking for another minute, as if considering his answer before he finally responded. ¡°Perhaps because at some point, lying becomes more natural than telling the truth, and that¡¯s not a habit I want to indulge. Perhaps because you two saw something you can¡¯t begin to understand, and I feel you¡¯re owed some answers. Perhaps because I think it would be a benefit for there to be at least one noble in that shining city of schemes who knows what¡¯s actually happening in the Realm.¡± Storyteller sighed. ¡°At the end of the day, perhaps it is easiest to say that I¡¯m telling you all of this because I want to, and I need no better reason. Any other questions?¡±

    There was an awkward moment, before Cadence cautiously ventured, ¡°Why are we rushing like this? Is there going to be another attack?¡±

    Storyteller turned to look at her, his face puzzled. ¡°Of course not.¡± He pointed upwards, and Cadence noticed for the first time how dark the sky had gotten. Not so much because of the rapid approach of evening as thanks to the deepening gray clouds overhead. ¡°There¡¯s going to be a storm.¡±

 Chapter 44 - Oliver

    Oliver was still on the road when the storm hit.

    The caravan quickly pulled to the side of the road as the wind started to kick up and the skies rapidly transitioned from gray to black. Hugo hustled towards the three young gifted in the last wagon while the rest of his staff went to work securing the other wagons for the incoming weather.

    ¡°It¡¯s looking like a rough one!¡± the stout merchant called over the wind as he approached. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose any of you have a gift that might be able to help?¡±

    Oliver and Rose shared a thoughtful look, and he knew the girl was thinking the same thing he was. At higher levels, their shared gift of wind might grant the sort of fine control Hugo was hoping for, the ability to produce a bubble of calm within the fierce winds already whipping up, but at Novice level, they could do little more than protect themselves from the savage gusts.

    ¡°No luck, Hugo,¡± Oliver called back. ¡°We¡¯re too low level for that.¡±

    The man sighed. ¡°Aye, I thought as much, but it never hurts to ask.¡± He turned to check on the other two wagons and his bustling employees. Harriet had already pulled two of the draft goats out of their hitches, her gift of the rancher keeping them calm as she staked them down and hobbled them so that they wouldn¡¯t hurt themselves or run away during the furor of the storm. Meanwhile, Hugo¡¯s two laborers were tossing ropes over the bonnets of the wagons, pounding deep stakes to tie them off, locking the wheels in place, and otherwise ensuring the wagons wouldn¡¯t get damaged, while the two fledgling merchants covered and bound the supplies that could be damaged by the weather.

    ¡°You need anything to batten down with?¡± Hugo asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re all set,¡± Beryl replied. The muscular girl was already moving around the wagon, using one of her earth abilities to produce thick stones from the ground and bracing the wheels and side of the wagon with them. The storm would need to get truly vicious to overwhelm their weight, but Hugo still seemed doubtful.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send one of the boys over with some stakes and ropes. Can¡¯t be too safe in weather like this.¡±

    Once the wagon was as secured as it was likely to get, Oliver grabbed the attention of the two girls. In low tones, he warned, ¡°I think we should be ready for a fight.¡±

    ¡°The cat?¡± Beryl asked.

    ¡°I spoke to Hugo yesterday. We¡¯re just over a week out from the end of the Flax Road, and we still haven¡¯t been attacked. But with a storm like this coming in, I think it might be forced to make a move.¡±

    ¡°Unless it has a den it can lay low in,¡± Rose pointed out.

    Oliver shook his head. ¡°If it¡¯s been following us, waiting for its chance, then it¡¯ll be far away from any den. Our wagons will be the best place it can hide during the storm.¡±

    The area of the road they were passing through was thoroughly uninhabited. Steep hills, rocky soil, and tough trees made the ground too difficult to be worth settling, and they hadn¡¯t seen a village in days.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Rose said, unconcerned.

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°Of course. A storm like this means training for you and me.¡±

    #

    They got settled just in time for the sky to open up. One second, the horizon was an ominous black. The next, a flash of lightning and a booming peal of thunder heralded a downpour so heavy that it was nearly a solid wave. With it, the already gusting wind picked up to a proper gale. Inside the wagon, the rain struck the canvas sides of the bonnet with such force that Oliver began to doubt even the integrity of the magically-enhanced fabric. It made for a rhythmic cacophony, broken only by the occasional boom of more thunder.

    Rose peeked out through a crack in the canvas, and nodded. ¡°Okay, it¡¯s really going now. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± Oliver asked for the fifth time since she had suggested using the storm for training.

    ¡°Of course. How else do you think we¡¯re going to get experience for our gifts?¡±

    Oliver frowned and muttered ¡°gift of wind¡± under his breath.

    [Gift of Wind]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 12%

    Push your limits to grow closer to the wind

    His gift had barely grown since he first obtained it, even as he used it more and more often in training. Rose claimed that, in addition to pushing his abilities with the gift, Oliver needed to better experience and understand the nature of the wind, and that only came from very specific types of danger. Unfortunately, his own experiences bore that out. Leaping from a spire right after he had gained his gift had earned him more experience than nearly two months of constant training and combat.

    ¡°We have to go watch out for the cat either way, remember?¡± Rose reminded him.

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Oliver relented. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±

    ¡°You two have fun with that.¡± Beryl had piled a few blankets and sacks into a rough cushion that she was reclining against, her eyes half-closed.

    ¡°Not gonna join us?¡± Oliver asked with a frown.

    ¡°Not a whole lot earth-y about a storm like this,¡± she pointed out.

    ¡°And if we need your help against the hexhunter?¡±

    ¡°Just give me a shout.¡±

    Oliver gave the girl a flat look, as the storm outside raged all the harder. There was obviously no way she¡¯d be able to hear them.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Oli.¡± Rose rested a hand on his arm, as if he needed to calm down. ¡°It can just be some time for the two of us.¡±

    Oliver huffed. ¡°Sure. Let¡¯s go then.¡± He turned and pulled open one of the canvas flaps of the wagon, holding it open a moment longer than he perhaps needed to¨Cand letting a bit of the rain splash Beryl.

    The tall girl started and shot Oliver an enraged look, but he smirked and hurried out into the storm in time for the wind and rain to drown out her invectives. As quickly as he could, Oliver activated his Mantle of Wind.

    [Mantle of Wind] - Active, Utility - Conjure a small cloak of swirling wind around yourself. Reduces fall speed. One minute duration. Minor quintessence cost.

    The length of his traveling cloak swirled about him, and the savage force of the gale winds abruptly tapered off, directed around his body by the effect. Oliver briefly hoped that it would do the same for the pounding rain, but that ultimately proved futile. It felt like he was soaked to the bone in a single moment, and even with the protection both his wind and fabric cloaks offered against the worst of the elements, he was quickly freezing cold.

    Rose moved to his side, her own clothes rustling briefly with her Mantle of Wind effect before they rapidly soaked through as much as his. She gave him a sour look, which Oliver took to be referring to his little spat with Beryl. He responded with a helpless shrug. Trying to converse at any volume short of shouting over the storm was pointless, and neither of them bothered. Instead, Oliver turned his attention to the storm raging all around them.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    It was a truly vicious summer squall. The sky was black overhead, lit in brief but frequent bursts by lightning, briefly displaying the intricate layers of the clouds before returning to sygiant darkness. The rain pounded straight down on them with enough force to make Oli¡¯s knees buckle one second, then would suddenly get picked up and sent flying sideways by a random gust. On either side of the road, ephemeral streams were forming amongst the rocky hills, and the sparse trees and bushes waved wildly about, as if attempting to leap into the blowing winds.

    This wasn¡¯t the first great summer storm he had ever seen, but Oliver had always been tucked safely inside for the previous ones. It was the perfect weather to settle by the fireplace with a warm cup of tea and a good book. Never before had he set foot outside in a storm like this, and he was forced to acknowledge both the danger and beauty inherent to it. And contrary to what he had always thought, it wasn¡¯t the rain that made the storm dangerous, nor even the flashing lightning and booming thunder overhead.

    It was the wind. The wind that was shaking even the heavy, well-secured wagons side to side. The wind that turned the rain into an ever changing threat, that was attempting to uproot the surrounding plants, that blew the pitch-black clouds in vast inexorable patterns. In fact, Oliver reflected, the only thing constant about the wind was its ever-changing nature. Immutable mutability.

    Suddenly, something twinged in the back of Oliver''s head, like a sense he couldn¡¯t quite place, and he took a sharp step to one side. Rose looked up, startled by the sudden motion¨Cand then a full tree branch, leaves still waving wildly, blew through the space he had just been occupying. The full weight of the branch barely missed him, but even with his last second reaction, he was struck by some of the smaller off-shoots and leaves, staggering him for a moment. Of course, that was the moment his Mantle of Wind ran out, and Oliver suddenly found himself exposed to the full force of the storm.

    The squire couldn¡¯t catch his balance, his training and boons alike unable to compensate for the savage storm. Another gale carried more loose leaves with it, and Oliver flailed wildly, trying to get them out of his face even as the wind blew to the side, then backwards, then pushed him forwards, never letting him get his feet under him, until he slammed into the side of the wagon he shared with Beryl and Rose. Splitting pain shot down his arm and cut through the whirling confusion, allowing him a brief moment of crystalline focus, just enough time for him to activate his Mantle of Wind again.

    Suddenly protected from the wind again, Oliver collapsed on the ground, and the agony hit him full force. He must¡¯ve hit the wagon at a bad angle. His left arm wouldn¡¯t move right, and sickening waves of pain washed out of it and through his body. It was like a savage cramp, but any attempt to move his arm to relax the muscle just brought more pain. By the time Rose joined him on the ground, amusement and worry mingling on her face, he had figured it out.

    He had dislocated his shoulder.

    Oliver didn''t waste time or energy attempting to shout over the clamor of the storm. He pointed at his left shoulder with his good hand, miming a sudden popping motion, and Rose gave a sharp nod of understanding. She reached out gently, and even through his waterlogged clothes, the touch of her fingers was agony. He couldn¡¯t help flinching¨Cwhich only brought more pain. And still the rain fell and pushed and soaked, forcing a thousand tiny movements of his balance that Oliver had never noticed when they didn¡¯t shatter his consciousness into slivers of pain.

    A small warmth suddenly kindled in him, a tiny but significant comfort. Oliver forced his attention back to Rose, who was still squatting in front of him calmly, as if they weren¡¯t in the middle of a raging storm, and to the soft green glow surrounding her hand. He recognized the steady nature of the glow as one of her more potent healing spells. It took longer to do its work, but would be more effective than just repeating one of her simpler spells on him over and over.

    Oliver relaxed and focused on his Mantle, refreshing it periodically as it neared its end. Each time, he would poke Rose, who would nod and pause her healing for the moment she needed to do the same. Each time she stopped, the pain would return in full, but each time, it was also a little better, a little less painful. By the fifth time she paused, the dislocation felt more like a deep set bruise. But he let her keep going, and as he did, he looked his friend over.

    When he first met Rose, he had thought she looked frail. She was a tiny girl, barely five feet tall, slender and petite. Combined with her remarkably fair complexion, Oliver had been reminded of a porcelain doll, beautiful but fragile. He regretted that now, as he looked at her, her bright red hair and simple clothes matted down by the driving rain. She was resilient, and strong. She wasn¡¯t porcelain, she was marble, a sculpture made all the more beautiful by its combination of delicateness and solidity.

    A small smile turned up his mouth at the thought¨Cand then he saw a shape in the rain behind Rose.

    The faint luminosity around the shape was the only reason he could make it out through the nearly opaque curtain of the falling rain. It was floating several feet in the air, a skull nearly the size of Oliver¡¯s body, glowing a faint shade of dark blue. Even as he watched, it shot through the air towards them¨Cand Rose, focused on her healing, still hadn¡¯t noticed it.

    ¡°ROSE!¡± Oliver shouted, loudly enough to carry over the roar of the storm. His shoulder still twinged with the movement, but he forced his way up anyways, standing and pushing Rose to one side to stand in the way of the apparition, whatever it was. As he threw up a hand in a desperate warding gesture, he felt the tug of one of his vanguard abilities triggering.

    [Reinforced Defense] - Triggered, Defense - When blocking an attack, your equipment is treated as one tier of potency higher. Each time this is triggered, there is a minor focus cost.

    Even without a shield, Reinforced Defense passed its benefit onto the arming jacket Oliver was wearing beneath his traveling cloak. As the monster lashed out with a skeletal hand, there was a sudden flash of bright blue sparks, the potency increase apparently enough to fend off the attack, even if the lingering force of it sent Oliver staggering back a step.

    The apparition was similarly repelled, and Oliver got his first good look at it. It was indeed some kind of massive, spectral skull, but it was definitely not human. The eye holes were too large, the jaw too low, and a pair of thick horns wound backwards from its brow. Below the main mass of the skull, a pair of hands floated in the air, just as skeletal and just as inhuman, four fingers and ending in gleaming, sharp claws.

    Oliver sprung forwards even as he pulled out his sword, activating his special attack and sending a savage slash at the monster.

    [Reckless Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Major stamina cost.

    The central shape of the skull bobbed upwards and backwards to escape the attack, but it was too slow for Oliver¡¯s improved speed. His magically charged weapon cut effortlessly through the spirit being, leaving a ragged slash in the apparition''s immaterial form.

    The spirit rocked back and let out a horrible wail of pain at the attack, but it didn¡¯t disintegrate the way he hoped¨Cand he could already feel his arm twinging, the sudden motions too much for his barely healed shoulder. If he kept fighting, he could very well injure himself beyond Rose¡¯s capacity for healing¨Cbut it didn¡¯t appear he was going to have much choice. Oliver raised his sword to a ready position, refreshed his Mantle of Wind, and held his place, staring the being down, trying not to let the exhaustion of his Reckless Strike¡¯s cost show on his face.

    The apparition itself seemed confused despite the apparent inexpressive rigidity of its shape, bobbing in place and looking down at him. Oliver found a fighting grin forcing its way through his grimace of pain. The immaterial being likely wasn¡¯t used to anyone successfully defending themselves against it, and Oliver proving that he could not only block its attacks, but harm it in return, had made it wary.

    Oliver again felt warmth blossom across his chest, and turned slightly to see Rose standing behind him, one hand glowing softly. She must¡¯ve known as well as he did that he was risking himself fighting the monster, and was doing what she could to strengthen his shoulder. He nodded a small thanks, and the moment of distraction nearly cost him his life.

    The ghostly monster gave another keening wail, and suddenly dove forward. While the skull itself was sluggish, its hands clearly weren¡¯t, and they darted forward ahead of the main body of the monster.

    Rose reacted more quickly than he did, and the rain suddenly turned into a water funnel as she released the Gust Blast ability they both shared.

    [Gust Blast] - Active, Attack - Manifest a gust of wind straight in front of you. Inflicts little direct damage, but can disorient or physically move enemies. Moderate quintessence cost.

    Used properly, Gust Blast could send a heavily-armored enemy flying backwards, but as Oliver feared, the apparition was wholly unaffected, moving through the swirling winds as if they weren¡¯t there. He lifted his sword in an awkward parry, and he felt his shoulder twinge from the motion, but his Reinforced Defense held up again and forced the first attacking hand backwards in another show of blue sparks. He pivoted wildly in an attempt to catch the second, but it was too close already, inside of his sword¡¯s reach. Rather than strike his armored body, the disembodied hand flicked upwards at the last second and dragged its claws over his face.

    Cold shot through Oliver. It was like a brain freeze combined with an icicle slicing his flesh, and for a moment, every muscle in his body locked up. He dropped to his knees in the mud with a groan of pain. He knew it wasn¡¯t actual cold that effected him¨Cthat was just his mind¡¯s attempt to understand the damage the spirit monster¡¯s death-aspected magic had dealt to his soul.

    Finally, it clicked. He knew what the apparition was. Its inhuman nature, its immunity to attacks that lacked their own potency, its clear intelligence¨Cand the fact that, both times it had struck, it had been in response to Rose¡¯s animism.

    ¡°IT¡¯S AN UNDEAD!¡± he shouted to Rose, his voice scarcely audible over the raging storm. ¡°HEAL IT!¡±

    Rose blinked in surprise at the instructions, but she didn¡¯t have time to doubt him. Without Oliver to block its way, the undead was now free to attack her, its clawed hands shooting forward. But before they could get close, the very air around Rose seemed to sparkle and glow. The undead recoiled with another wail of agony, and though the skeletal face couldn¡¯t convey emotion, Oliver knew that it was frightened.

    Again, Rose threw a hand forward, using her Gust Blast, and this time, the wind that she conjured glittered as if there were a thousand tiny gems mixed into it. The undead let out the same horrible shriek it had made when Oliver used his special attack¨Cbut this time, it couldn¡¯t float away to escape further damage. Even as it tried, Rose corrected her aim, no doubt draining her quintessence in an effort to sustain the Gust Blast. It shrieked more and more loudly, but within moments, it could no longer maintain cohesion. The hands dissolved first, then its horns, and its jaw, as if it was being seared away from the outside.

    Then, finally, it was gone.

 Chapter 45 - Oliver

    ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know what it was?¡± Beryl demanded.

    The aftermath of the fight had been a flurry of activity. The undead spirit¡¯s final wails had been loud enough to rise above even the clamor of the storm, and Oliver and Rose had quickly been joined by not just Beryl, but also Hugo¡¯s two laborers, the bulky men each carrying a heavy worker¡¯s hammer. Unfortunately, the three possessed no better resistance to the storm than their boosted strength. They had to double over just to walk forward in the face of the wind¨Chad they attempted to assist in the fight itself, they would¡¯ve been a dangerous distraction.

    Rose had managed to defeat the thing with Oliver¡¯s help, but they both knew how close it had been. Oliver ran through much of his stamina and no small amount of focus fending off the apparition''s opening attacks, and between her Mantle, healing, and final attack, Rose had nothing left either. In fact, Oliver wasn¡¯t even sure how she had managed so much magic in the first place.

    As soon as they were back in the carriage, the full weight of the battle hit both of them. Rose hadn¡¯t bothered to change, wrapping herself up in a thick blanket then wiggling around a bit until she had pushed her wet clothing out of the bundle then passed out. Oliver wasn¡¯t much better. He changed his tunic easily enough, but lacked the privacy to strip off his breeches. He accepted it¨Cjust switching shirts had been enough to show him how much his injured shoulder still hurt, and Rose clearly wasn¡¯t going to be healing him any more until tomorrow.

    The exhausted boy had promptly leaned back against a bundle of flour sacks covered with a blanket and closed his eyes, only to have his attempt at rest interrupted by Beryl.

    ¡°All that reading, and you don¡¯t know what it was?¡± Beryl asked again, her face dark with worry for her friend. That same worry was rapidly turning to frustration that she was apparently more than happy to vent on Oliver.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t spend much time on Ruined World outsiders, no,¡± Oliver replied, before his words were interrupted by a yawn. He wanted nothing more than to stretch, but his aching shoulder told him that would be a mistake.

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t you think you should try to look into it? Isn¡¯t that why you bought those books of yours?¡±

    Oliver tried his hardest not to grimace, but he knew he wasn¡¯t doing a good job. ¡°My books will still be there tomorrow. When there hopefully won¡¯t be any rain to ruin them, and when I won¡¯t be dealing with an aching shoulder, a focus headache, stamina drain, and a complaining wannabe warden all at once.¡±

    He regretted the words as soon as he said them, but the fight had left him weary and exhausted in a way he never had been before. He thought of the potions Adeline had given him, but decided against them. For now at least, there was no need. He knew he should apologize, but also suspected that trying to do so tonight would just make more of a mess of things.

    ¡°Wake me up if anything else happens,¡± he said instead.

    Then he rested his head back, closed his eyes again, and barely had time to wonder what Adeline would¡¯ve thought of the fight before he passed out.

    #

    ¡°So was that it?¡± Hugo asked Oliver the following morning.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Oliver replied with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve never fought an undead before. Connections to the Ruined World are rare in the heartlands¨CChained World outsiders are much more common.¡± He paused, then shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t say for sure that we really took care of the problem until I do some research. So I don¡¯t think you¡¯re free of us quite yet.¡±

    The stout merchant rolled his eyes and huffed. ¡°Well enough. Though I¡¯d prefer, then, that you keep yourself out of my business transactions.¡±

    Oliver gave the merchant a quiet little smirk. ¡°Perhaps don¡¯t conduct yourself in such a way that I feel the need to step in, then.¡±

    Hugo grumbled and turned away, seemingly to survey his employees¡¯ work on the wagons, but Oliver distinctly heard the words ¡°noble bastard¡± in the merchant¡¯s grumbling.

    The storm had broken at some point in the night, and the morning sky was a cheery blue that showed no remnants of the foreboding storm clouds from the night before. Unfortunately, the wagons had not passed through the inclement weather without some damage. Hugo had them both propped up by the enhanced strength of his laborers, and the wiry figure of Harriet was examining the wheels and the axles they rested on.

    The weathered woman was the most important member of Hugo¡¯s company, with the possible exception of the merchant himself. Her gifts, carpenter and rancher, were simple, but they made her critical to keeping both the wagons and the draft animals that pulled them functional. Hugo had explained it as a common gift combination among professional teamsters, and despite being only novice level, Harriet cost more to retain on his staff than his other four employees put together.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan from here?¡± Oliver asked. Rose was still resting in their own wagon, which had come through the storm mostly undamaged. It had been provided by the wardens of Correntry, who had a handful of specially reinforced wagons created specifically for wardens joining caravans the way they had.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ll have to replace a couple wheels, but that¡¯s easy enough. The real problem is that the second wagon has a cracked axle.¡± The portly man spit to one side, disgruntled. ¡°Harriet will be able to keep it from breaking, but we won¡¯t be able to push too hard until we get to Jellis.¡±

    Oliver knew that Jellis was a significant town, one of the largest outside of the trade cities, and that it anchored the far end of the Flax Road. It would be the halfway point in this mission, and get him heading back towards Adeline. ¡°How long to Jellis, then?¡±

    ¡°Normally, we¡¯d be perhaps a week out, give or take a day. But it¡¯s gonna take us most of today to fix the damage, then with our reduced pace to keep the axle from cracking¡­ at least two weeks. Maybe more.¡±

    Oliver nodded thoughtfully. It wasn¡¯t ideal but, perhaps¡­

    ¡°Right, I¡¯m heading back. The three of us will be taking rotating shifts throughout the day to watch out for any other attackers.¡±

    ¡°You think that¡¯s needed?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. But if another undead like the one last night attacks, I think you¡¯d rather have us there and ready.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the Professional¡¯s honest truth? Right enough then.¡±

    #

    ¡°Two weeks, at least, to make Jellis,¡± Oliver announced to the girls as he hopped into their wagon. ¡°I told Hugo we¡¯d take rotating shifts standing watch while his team is working on the wagons.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Beryl grunted, irritated. The pair had apparently made use of the space while Oliver was gone talking to Hugo, as they had both changed, and Rose had made it out of her blanket¨Cthough she still looked a little peaked from the night before, her crimson hair mussed and dark circles blooming around her eyes.

    Oliver settled down in his own seat, unwrapping the oilcloth he had used to protect his books from any errant rain. Rather than open a book though, he paused, grimacing with indecision. FInally, he forced himself to bull forward and say, ¡°Beryl. I wanted to apologize for last night. I was tired, and¡­¡±

    Beryl waved a hand. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Oliver insisted. ¡°I was drained, and hurt, but that was no excuse for taking it out on you. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    The muscular girl narrowed her eyes at him. Since they had met, the two had never been close, though Oliver wasn¡¯t sure why. He had put it down to simple negative chemistry. Beryl seemed as frustrated with his introversion as he was with her bawdy overconfidence. The time on the road had only made it worse, with Beryl going days without speaking to Oliver in anything more than monosyllabic grunts and the occasional sullen comment.

    But his words apparently managed to get through to her, at least a little bit, and she nodded. ¡°I appreciate it.¡± There was a weighty pause, and Oliver hoped that she¡¯d take the chance to apologize in return¨Cbut apparently not. ¡°I¡¯ll go take the first shift.¡±

    Rose smiled apologetically while her friend clambered out of the wagon. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, that¡¯s the closest Beryl really gets to an apology. At least it got her to not argue over shifts.¡±

    Oliver shrugged, acting as if it didn¡¯t much bother him, and Rose came over to join him where he was resting against the side of the carriage. The canvas ceiling of the covered wagon was low enough that even Rose, the shortest of the trio, couldn¡¯t stand up straight, but it was still odd to Oliver that she crawled on all fours instead of just crouching to walk over to him.

    He looked away and picked up one of his books to hide the inevitable blush her motions caused, while Rose settled down next to him. ¡°How¡¯s your shoulder?¡± she asked

    Of course, that was why she had come over. To check up on him.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he lied. ¡°A little sore, but I can move it easy enough.¡±

    Rose frowned and studied him. ¡°Are you sure? I¡¯ve recovered enough mana, I should be able to give you a little more healing¡­¡±

    Oliver tried to insist that he was fine, but Rose didn¡¯t entertain the claim, her hand already beginning to glow with healing magic that settled over him like a warm blanket. With a smile, he picked up the Umbral Lexicon and began flipping through to the section on outsiders of the Ruined World.

    He reflected, as he skimmed the thick book, Rose crouched next to him, her fingers gentle on his arm, that this wasn¡¯t so bad.

    #

    ¡°There it is,¡± Oliver announced. Half an hour of research while Rose tended to his shoulder had left him more relaxed than he¡¯d been in weeks. The girl had stopped her healing several minutes before and lapsed into dozing on the sackcloth pile next to Oliver.

    Rose blinked blearily and yawned at his words. ¡°Wha?¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°I found our friend from last night. Looks like it was a specter.¡± As he spoke, Rose stretched her arms over her head, groaning and twisting her back one way then another. Oliver flushed a little bit and kept his eyes set on the book before him instead of the sight of the slender girl¡¯s writhing body.

    ¡°Yea?¡± After a moment of silence, Rose asked, ¡°So what¡¯s a specter?¡±

    ¡°A type of immaterial undead, obviously. Lesser rank, considered among the weaker undead¡­ there¡¯s a few varieties of ghostly undead in here, but lost souls would¡¯ve been weaker and more numerous, and if it was a phantom¡­ well, we wouldn¡¯t have gotten the opportunity to do any research.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t seem weak to me,¡± Rose pointed out. ¡°Until my healing killed it, which I still don¡¯t understand.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s mouth twitched, and he quickly flipped backwards to the introductory section on undead, the most common form of outsider from the Ruined World. ¡°Specters are considered weak because they rely entirely on their immaterial nature. Since they don¡¯t exist physically, physical attacks are useless against them.¡±

    ¡°Like how it ignored the first time I tried to use my wind on it? But I was using magic to control the wind, shouldn¡¯t that have worked?¡±

    Oliver shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s about potency, how much magic is concentrated on enhancing the natural properties of the attack. At our level, we can¡¯t normally put any potency into our elemental attacks. I just got lucky that the vanguard gift uses potency for both my special attack and my defensive ability. My attack was magical enough to interact with it beyond just the physical level and wound it. But even then, if I had been fighting that thing alone, I wouldn¡¯t have destroyed it before I ran out of stamina.¡±

    ¡°Why did my healing magic work on it then?¡± Rose asked. Her eyes were wide as she eagerly looked over the section Oliver had flipped through. While the warden trainee lacked the education Oliver had received throughout his entire life, she more than made up for it with natural intelligence, and her expertise with healing magic far outstripped Oliver¡¯s barebone knowledge of the Mage gifts.

    ¡°I think you¡¯d understand better than I do,¡± Oliver told her. He pointed at one specific paragraph in the entry on the Ruined World. ¡°Something to do with the intrinsic nature of the undead. I just remembered one of my tutors when I was younger insisting that it was the best way to fight them.¡±

    Rose¡¯s brow furrowed as she read the paragraph he indicated. ¡°¡®Being substantially infused or wholly composed of death-aspected magic produces a non-intuitive vulnerability to typically beneficial life aspected workings¡­¡± Rose¡¯s eyes went wide, and she gave Oliver a startled look.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what any of this means.¡± Her expression cracked into a grin. ¡°Seriously, did this author just not even want to be understood?¡±

    Oliver found himself grinning in return. ¡°Well, it was written by noble scholars. You know how we are.¡±

    Rose¡¯s smile grew, and she burst into a fit of giggles that quickly pulled Oliver¡¯s exhausted brain in, and he was soon laughing along with her.

    ¡°What was that thing you did to it anyways?¡± Oliver asked after they managed to control themselves. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you do any spell like that before.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my augment,¡± Rose explained. ¡°It¡¯s called Healing Wind. It lets me use my wind as a focus for my spells. So I can heal from farther away, or over a wider area.¡± She grimaced and rolled her neck at the thought, and added, ¡°It sucks away my mana like nothing else, though. That¡¯s why I was so drained afterwards.¡±

    ¡°Mana? You mean quintessence?¡±

    Rose¡¯s grin returned. ¡°No, I mean mana.¡± She arched an eyebrow at him as she asked in a teasing tone, ¡°Oh? Did I find another one of those rare little blind spots of yours?¡±

    ¡°Oh shut up, at least mine are rare,¡± Oliver shot back, still smiling. Relaxed as he was, the back and forth rhythm of the teasing was comfortable. It made him think of Adeline, or his sister, before she became a sentinel.

    ¡°Mana is a special resource you get if you have a Mage and a Primal gift. The Mage¡¯s mystical well and the Primal¡¯s quintessence pool blend together into a single resource that can be used on both gifts. It¡¯s a big part of what makes dedicated casters like me work.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that before¡­¡± Oliver mused. ¡°I was wondering how you kept going last night the way you did. I was just about run dry by the time we got in here, but you kept your Mantle up, healed me, and threw multiple attacks at that thing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s handy,¡± Rose acknowledged. Her eyes darted down to the book in Oliver¡¯s lap, and she asked, ¡°So, are you going to use that fancy noble learning of yours and tell me what any of that is supposed to mean?¡±

    Oliver chuckled, and the two began picking apart the elaborate writing style for actual meaning.

 Chapter 46 - Tenebres

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Allana¡¯s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, but it was still enough for Tenebres to shoot straight up from where he lay on the floor.

    ¡°Allana?¡± he asked, shaking his head groggily. It had been three days since he had last seen her, after she stormed out of Geoffrey¡¯s. He had spent the time assortedly visiting their usual haunts, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and staying in the tiny apartment they had taken to sharing, in case she happened to return. But now that she finally had shown up, in the darkest hours of the night, Tenebres found himself lost for words.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I just¡­¡± Allana sighed, still all but invisible in the dark room save for the faint glow of her irises, and Tenebres could hear the tightness in her voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± Tenebres tried to reassure her. He cautiously stood up from his sleeping mat. In the gloom, he could barely make out the shape of her sitting on her bed. The apartment was a single room, with little more to it than her bed, a small vanity table with a stool, and just enough space for Tenebres to spread out a sleeping pad at night. She was leaned against the wall, as far from him as she could be without leaving the room, and from the outline of her, he was pretty sure she had her arms wrapped around her legs, like she had curled up into herself. ¡°Let me light the lamp,¡± he suggested softly.

    ¡°No.¡± The word was as much a plea as anything else. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ easier, like this.¡±

    Tenebres thought he understood. Allana clearly had a hard time being vulnerable, and with what he knew about her past, he could understand why. If talking in the dark would help, it was the least he could do.

    He nodded, then smiled to himself as he realized how useless the gesture was. ¡°Okay,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Do you know how many friends I¡¯ve had in my life? Before you?¡±

    Tenebres frowned as he sat back down on the floor, resting his back against the foot of Allana¡¯s bed. ¡°Not many,¡± he guessed.

    ¡°None.¡±

    There was a long moment of silence after that. Tenebres wasn¡¯t sure how to respond. Every reply he could think of seemed¡­ flippant. Insufficient. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her again.

    Before he managed to formulate a response, Allana asked, ¡°Did you? Before the cult and all that?¡±

    He frowned at the question. He didn¡¯t think about his childhood much anymore. It was sometimes hard to remember what his life had been like just a few years before, when he still lived in Culles.

    ¡°I guess,¡± he finally answered. ¡°I don¡¯t really know. There were a few other kids in town close to my age. We¡¯d play sometimes, make pretend as elves or adventurers or dragons. But¡­¡± He hadn¡¯t thought about them in a long time. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if I could tell you any of their names anymore.¡±

    They both stayed quiet after that, sitting in the darkness. It almost felt like Tenebres was alone, and he half wondered if Allana had snuck back out of the room. He knew she was probably capable of it, if she tried. But somehow, he knew she hadn¡¯t.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do this,¡± she told him. ¡°I¡¯m a street wraith. A thief. An assassin. I don¡¯t have friends. I have allies, contacts, rivals.¡±

    ¡°But you have me,¡± Tenebres insisted. ¡°I¡¯m your friend.¡±

    ¡°Are you?¡±

    Tenebres turned around, so that he was on his knees, kneeling in front of her. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to more clearly make out the ball of Allana sitting across the mattress from him, hugging her legs tightly to her chest. Her violet eyes, half seen but bright even in the darkness, were intent. ¡°Of course I am,¡± he told her, hurt that she¡¯d think otherwise.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t want to be.¡±

    ¡°Of course I do L- Allana. Of course I want to be your friend.¡±

    ¡°But you want to be more than that, too.¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s face suddenly felt hot. ¡°I¡­¡± he flailed verbally, not knowing how to defend himself.

    ¡°You flirt, and you tease, and you joke, and you talk, and you stay down there on the floor, like you¡¯re content with that. But I don¡¯t think you are.¡± Allana¡¯s words were weirdly toneless, as if she was reciting facts¨Cor as if she was trying very, very hard to not let her emotions seep into her voice.

    ¡°Allana¡­¡±

    ¡°I saw you, when I was flirting with that bar girl the other night,¡± she continued, snarling slightly. ¡°I went home with her that night, you know. After I left. I went to bed with her. And not on her floor.¡±

    Tenebres swallowed, his throat tight. ¡°Okay¡­¡±

    ¡°How do you feel about that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I mean, I don¡¯t like it¡­¡± Tenebres admitted. He felt short of breath, in fact. His heart was racing, fear and anxiety breeding like ants under his skin.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I just¡­ I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t like me being with someone else,¡± Allana stated matter-of-factly. ¡°You want me to be with you. Just you. Like a possession, a special little treasure all your own.¡±

    Tenebres jumped to his feet. He felt odd, the squirming unpleasantness burnt away in a single moment. Suddenly he was as angry as he¡¯d ever been¡­ no. As angry as he¡¯d been since that night on the altar, at least. His blood pounded, and his head throbbed with the force of it.

    ¡°NO, I DON¡¯T!¡± he shouted back at her. ¡°I¡¯m upset, and I don¡¯t like it, but it¡¯s because you left! No word, no explanation. You¡¯re my friend Allana, and I had no idea what happened to you! I spent three days sick with fear¨Cthat you had gone back to Telik. That you had fled the city. That you were dead.¡±

    Tenebres could see Allana blink, her violet eyes flickering a couple times, but he didn¡¯t give her the chance to respond, venting out all the feelings he had stewing inside of him for the past three days. ¡°I don¡¯t care that you slept with her. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re sun-drawn, I don¡¯t care if you fuck half the city, Allana! I care that you left me, upset and angry and resentful, without a Rogue-damned word, for three days!¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Allana pushed past him as she sprung to her own feet, eyes flashing. ¡°Oh yeah? Then what was that performance in the tavern? I mean, by the Rogue Seo, you¡¯d think your pet had just died!¡±

    Seo furrowed his brow, even if the expression couldn¡¯t be seen, and his face suddenly heated back up as he figured out what she meant. ¡°I was trying to figure out if you just liked girls or not!¡± he shouted back at her.

    Both of them paused, eyes wide¨Cand then they both collapsed into laughter, falling back onto the bed. The claim, shouted so angrily, was just too ridiculous for either of them, and in an instant, all of the bitter and dark feelings inside both of them seemed to wash away under the sudden gale of laughter.

    Allana drew in a few rapid breaths, and managed to choke out, in a rough imitation of Tenebres¡¯s voice, ¡°Do you like girls?¡± before they both collapsed back into giggles.

    It took many minutes for their mutual fits of laughter to finally die out, and by the end, Tenebres felt relaxed for the first time since Allana had left.

    He blinked tears out of his eyes, still grinning¨Cand very suddenly realized that he and Allana were now laying in bed together. They were settled the wrong way, their legs both hanging off the end, but he was suddenly very aware of how close his friend was, how warm the air between them felt. He took a breath, and it smelled like woodsmoke and sea salt and distant, bitter acids. Like Allana.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have much of a preference, you know,¡± Allana told him, her voice a low whisper. The faint luminescence of her eyes let him see that she was staring at him now, focused solely on him. ¡°If anything, I find myself preferring girls because¡­ well, you¡¯ve seen what the men of Lowrun are like.¡±

    Tenebres grinned wider, and he had to force down any more giggles. ¡°Yeah well¡­ you¡¯re right that I do want more than what we have, you know.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± He swore he could hear the smile in her voice, but the question was more sincere than he would¡¯ve expected.

    ¡°Of course. No one¡­ no one has ever made me feel like you. Like I can say whatever I¡¯m thinking, like we can talk about anything.¡± Tenebres cleared his throat awkwardly and added, ¡°Plus, you know¡­ I have two eyes. And I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware, but you¡¯re actually incredibly attractive.¡±

    ¡°Oh am I?¡±

    ¡°Mhmm.¡±

    ¡°Well then.¡± As she spoke, Allana wiggled a little bit, bringing herself closer to him. ¡°I have to admit, you¡¯re not very hard to look at.¡± She chuckled a little, and told him, ¡°Honestly, even if I was fully sun-drawn, I might make an exception for you. You are pretty sunny, after all. I¡¯ve always liked that about you. My little pretty boy.¡±

    Tenebres flushed brighter, but he didn¡¯t have it in him to shoot anything back. His physical appearance and the feminine way he chose to present himself had raised some eyebrows when he was younger, but the people of Culles were too practical to much care. He hadn¡¯t realized how important it was for him until Kellen took it away from him, and it had been the first thing he had reclaimed when he was free from the man.

    But no one had ever actually embraced it. Sure, some men preferred a sunnier boy, but their comments weren¡¯t the support he never knew he had been looking for. Everyone else just accepted it, as if to comment on it would be rude.

    But for the first time in his life, laying on Allana¡¯s too small bed the wrong way, Tenebres felt more than accepted. He felt valid.

    He didn¡¯t know how to respond. His throat was tight, and he felt tears leaving warm trails down his face. Fortunately, he didn¡¯t have to figure out how to put his feelings into words. Before he knew it, Allana¡¯s arms were around him, and her lips were pressing against his, and Tenebres knew she understood.

    #

    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± Geoffrey observed with a grin when the two entered his office the following day. ¡°About time.¡±

    Tenebres felt his face heat up to the pointed tips of his ears, and couldn¡¯t contain a smile at the man¡¯s words. More shocking, to him at least, was that Allana mirrored the expression, her own blush brightening her purple skin to a brilliant magenta. Tenebres just hoped Geoffrey didn¡¯t notice that he was limping more than Allana was.

    The two had spent the rest of the night, and most of the morning, together, talking and laughing and covering the other in kisses before they finally made their way to one of the local taverns to break their fast. As if he had anticipated their plans, a message had been waiting there from Geoffrey for them to come see him in the afternoon.

    They had tiptoed around what this meant for their relationship, but Tenebres didn¡¯t feel any need to push the issue. The argument had made Allana¡¯s stance on a committed relationship obvious, and while he wished that more was possible, Tenebres was happy to remain Allana¡¯s friend, even if they never had another night like that again. He suspected, however, that it wouldn¡¯t come to that. Allana wasn¡¯t exactly subtle in her attentions, and already she had been far more physical in her affection than he was used to from his often reticent friend.

    ¡°Do you have anything on the necromancer?¡± Allana asked hurriedly, clearly attempting to change the topic.

    Geoffrey must have read the girl¡¯s desperation, and a smile flickered across his face, but he let it go. ¡°I might. I¡¯ve been following up on the lead you two found, but it¡¯s about as easy as you¡¯d expect.¡±

    Allana snorted a breath and folded her arms. ¡°I¡¯ll say. It took us days to even catch wind of the rumors surrounding that boat in the first place.¡±

    ¡°And more than a bit of luck,¡± Tenebres chimed in.

    ¡°The fact that it happened at all is enough for me to work with, but now I need to trace the trail backwards in two different directions, trying to figure out who this captain may have been trying to sell the outsider to, while also following the tracks of whoever stole it instead.¡±

    Tenebres blinked, stunned at the mere idea of trying to trace events that had happened days or weeks before in a place as lawless and as unmonitored as Emeston, and Allana said, ¡°I don¡¯t know how you plan to manage that. I grew up in Lowrun, and I still wouldn¡¯t even know where to start.¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s gray eyes glittered. ¡°Normally, you¡¯d be correct, but one of my gifts offers the abilities for just such an investigation. A remnant from my misspent youth, you might say.¡±

    Tenebres narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and asked, ¡°Why did you send for us then? It doesn¡¯t sound like there¡¯s anything we can do to help at this point.¡±

    Normally, Tenebres would¡¯ve expected Allana to bristle at his blunt wording, but apparently the previous night had left her as relaxed as he was, and she just seemed to share his curiosity.

    ¡°I had a request come in from an old client who did some work for me in the past, out by the Rainbow Square. As I¡¯m preoccupied, I thought it the perfect job for the two of you.¡±

    Allana wrinkled her nose at the mention of the place, and Tenebres found himself distracted by the things the expression did to her face. It took him a moment before he thought to ask, ¡°Rainbow Square? That¡¯s a new one for me.¡±

    ¡°Lucky you,¡± Allana groused. ¡°The Gold Council had the brilliant idea at some point that all the smelliest businesses in the city should be placed together. Since that includes a bunch of dyers, tanners, and paint makers, the area got called the Rainbow Square instead of the Stench Block or Shit Street.¡± Allana turned back to Geoffrey. ¡°We spent days slumming along the docks, and now you¡¯re sending us to Rainbow Square?¡±

    Geoffrey huffed a small breath of amusement. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine.¡± He paused for a moment, musing, before adding, ¡°This is a chance for you¨Cboth of you¨Cto show me I didn¡¯t make a mistake in the aftermath of that Algus catastrophe. There¡¯s reports of a pair of lesser monsters, with a handful of dire vermin, terrorizing the area. Handle it well, without any more complaints, and we can let the past stay in the past. Fair?¡±

    Allana opened her mouth, eyes flashing at the reminder of the way their last conversation with Geoffrey had ended, but Tenebres reached over and grabbed her arm before she could reply. The girl flashed him a guilty look, biting back whatever thoughtless words she was going to snap back with, and she reluctantly nodded at Geoffrey.

    The assassin himself watched the exchange with interest, his eyes glittering. When Tenebres turned back to him, the younger man could swear he saw Geoffrey tilt his chin by a fraction of an inch, a tiny gesture of respect.

    ¡°What sort of monsters?¡± Tenebres asked.

    ¡°The vermin are the usual. Dire rats and dire spiders. The lessers likely spawned from their numbers¨Cbased on description, a darkmaw and an orbweft.¡±

    That was as good a match up as they could hope for. Tenebres had never fought a darkmaw before, but he had been practicing his evocations and trusted his magic against any dire vermin, and Allana¡¯s gift of poison offered a defensive ability that would rob the spiders of their most potent weapon.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do it,¡± Tenebres replied, giving Allana¡¯s forearm a squeeze. ¡°Right, Allana?¡±

    Allana blew out a long breath through her nose, and her tone had a note of forced cheer to it, but she managed to agree.

    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll do it, then we¡¯ll all move on.¡±

 Chapter 47 - Allana

    Allana sneered and batted a dire spider out of the air with one hand. She held her brass dagger, the long and slender one, backwards, so her brusque motion easily stabbed through the vermin¡¯s carapace. But even as she cut it down, she felt the sting of another¡¯s sharp fangs sinking into the meat right arm.

    [Poison Immunity] - Triggered, Healing - Quintessence is consumed automatically to negate poisons affecting you. Cost is relative to potency and volume of the poison.

    Most magical poison targeted a specific attribute with their effects, and dire spider venom was no exception. By lowering the victim¡¯s stamina, those with the Warrior gift would find their primary resource for their special attacks dropping away. Given long enough, the venom would eventually exhaust them, making them easy prey for the pests, each of which was the size of both of her fists put together.

    Unfortunately for them, they were still minor monsters, and their venom lacked the potency needed to threaten most battle-gifted. Even without her defensive ability, which could easily nullify the effects, Allana had more than enough resilience to resist the venom.

    Of course, neither her enhanced resilience nor her defensive ability allowed her to ignore the pain of the dire spider¡¯s bite, and she swore, the curse echoing in the dark alley. She dropped her daggers, both disappearing the moment they escaped her grasp, and the dead spider that had still been stuck to the end of her brass dagger fell to the cobblestones. She raised her left hand up, and when she brought it back down, it now held her thick, heavy-bladed iron dagger, which easily cut the pest off of her.

    [Ensouled Item Conjuration] - Active, Conjuration - Conjure the ensouled item bound to this gift. No cost. Current conjurations: iron dagger, brass dagger.

    Allana¡¯s instincts twinged, and she took a quick step back and lifted her right hand, conjuring her brass dagger just in time for the dire rat that was diving down to land on the outstretched blade. It hadn¡¯t been any gift ability that warned her that time¨Cjust the instincts of a lifetime in Lowrun¡¯s alleyways. Once again, her dagger vanished, letting the rat corpse fall to the ground, and she looked back towards where the alley had split.

    ¡°Seo?¡± she called out, her voice slightly muffled by the layered linen mask she wore in a (mostly futile) attempt to ignore the smell of Rainbow Square. ¡°How you doing?¡±

    There was a second of silence, followed by a series of the odd, hollow humming noises Tenebres¡¯s magical attacks made. Another second of silence was followed by a yelp, another humming noise, and a wet squelch sound that made Allana wince.

    Finally, Tenebres responded, ¡°Yeah!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing ¡®yeah¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yep! Everything is fine over here. No worries.¡±

    Allana couldn¡¯t help a grin. The boy was as skilled as any Novice she¡¯d ever met¨Cin more ways than one, she thought, her grin gradually growing wicked at the memory of the night before¨Cbut he was still inexperienced. He had fought alongside her on half a dozen jobs like this, but then they had always had Geoffrey looking over their shoulder.

    ¡°Rats or spiders?¡± she called out to him. While they spoke, her eyes surveyed the alley for any further indicator of movement. The minor monsters were, ultimately, little more than distractions. It would be the lessers leading them that were the real threat.

    ¡°I got rats,¡± he called back. Before Allana could reply, she suddenly heard another yelp from the boy, followed by the scuffs of him scrambling about and another pair of humming projectiles.

    Allana took a cautious step in his direction, her iron dagger suddenly resting in her hand, but she only made it a couple feet before he called back, ¡°Okay, rats and a spider.¡±

    Allana furrowed her brow, and quickly rounded the corner to the alley Tenebres had been clearing out. The boy was slouched against a wall, one hand crossed over his chest to clutch his other arm. Despite the pressure he applied, a trickle of blood leaked down to the cobbles of the alley, though Allana couldn¡¯t guess if it was from an actual attack or a byproduct of his weird augment, which allowed him to harm himself to enhance his magic.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked, her tone softening in a way only Tenebres managed to pull out of her.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied through gritted teeth. ¡°Just dandy.¡±

    ¡°The venom¡­¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°The spider didn¡¯t bite me. One of the rats just got some scratches in before I could get it off me.¡± By some chance of the light, this alley was better lit than the one Allana had turned down, which was why she had left it to him. Tenebres wrinkled his nose as he looked at the splattered remains of one of the dire rats.

    Far and away the most common dire vermin in Emeston, the bloated rats were the size of an alley cat, and while one lay battered and broken farther down the alley, the other lay dead at Tenebres¡¯s feet, its corpulent body smashed. Allana arched an eyebrow at it, and Tenebres admitted, ¡°That one weaved about a bit.¡± The look of disgust on his face intensified as he noted, in a tight voice, ¡°I¡¯m gonna need new boots.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll find you cute ones,¡± Allana promised. She turned her attention back to the dead vermin. ¡°Is something about this weird to you?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Rats and spiders, just like Geoffrey said.¡±

    ¡°Right, just¡­ I don¡¯t know, I expected they¡¯d be fighting each other as much as us. Or that they¡¯d at least be in two separate nests. I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d attack together like that.¡±

    Tenebres frowned at the observation, and his crimson eyes swept up and down the alley. ¡°No sign of the big ones, either,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°Should there be?¡± Allana asked. Geoffrey had provided them a brief primer on the two lesser monsters they were looking for, but she had left them to Tenebres. The boy was an enthusiastic reader, a habit Allana found odious. She could muddle through well enough if she needed to, but why bother? Tenebres could explain it to her much faster.

    ¡°Maybe not the orbweft. It¡¯s essentially just a dire spider that survived long enough to soak in more life magic and grow bigger and smarter. But darkmaws are hunger-aspected¨Cthey normally spawn from a dire rat that lucked out and ate a magically-rich corpse. I¡¯d expect it to come hunting for us, rather than risk its minions getting the first taste.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Allana pursed her lips. ¡°Is it smart enough to be sending the little ones at us to soften us up?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t sound very sure about that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±

    #

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Tenebres announced, ¡°something is definitely wrong.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so happy you agree.¡±

    Around them were the remains of the third wave of minor monsters since they entered the tangled web of alleyways surrounding Rainbow Square, and it had been the most fierce yet, numbering well over a dozen dire rats and half that in spiders. The vermin were weak enough that the pair could kill any one of them with a single clean attack, but in those numbers, their own flaws were showing through more clearly.

    Both Allana¡¯s daggers and Tenebres¡¯s force missiles were, by their nature, precision attacks. They were exceptionally effective against other battle-gifted, and more than sufficed when they were able to keep up with the number of vermin, but this attack had been a desperate action for them. By the end, they had been forced to back away, Tenebres holding up a disk of force to slow down the miniature horde while Allana methodically killed the ones that slipped through. Blood covered both of them, as much from Tenebres¡¯s blood magic as from the attacks the vermin managed to land.

    And still there was no sign of the actual lesser monsters they had been sent to hunt down.

    ¡°You should take a potion,¡± Allana told Tenebres. They had each bought a couple health potions weeks before¨Cunlikely to be worth much mid-battle, considering the dubious nature of the alchemist they had purchased them from, but enough to heal them up from minor injuries after a fight.

    ¡°No,¡± Tenebres said. His voice was tight with pain, and blood was running liberally from under his matted down sleeves.

    ¡°Stop trying to impress me, Seo,¡± she told him sharply. ¡°Here, at least let me bandage them up¡­¡±

    She reached for one of his arms, but he jerked away from her. ¡°No!¡± he repeated more forcefully.

    Allana blinked, trying to ignore the feeling of hurt she felt at his reaction. ¡°Seo¡­ c¡¯mon, you can¡¯t keep moving like that.¡±

    ¡°It looks worse than it is,¡± he insisted. Still, his voice was rough, and tight in a way she wasn¡¯t used to from him. Allana narrowed her eyes, inspecting him more closely in the darkness. His shoulders were hunched, as if his entire body was being pulled taut, and he kept his eyes on the ground, half closed. He was breathing hard, much harder than even the fight had demanded, practically panting.

    ¡°Tenebres¡­¡± she called his name softly, and he sharply raised a hand, as if motioning for silence. She watched with an odd, almost alien, sense of concern for her first friend, but she stayed quiet. Still, she slipped closer to him, her feet quiet more by habit than by any gift ability, and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

    She felt the slender boy tense at her touch, but then, like a dam breaking, he relaxed, suddenly gasping for air. This close, she could feel as much sweat covering him in a light sheen as blood.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked him. She kept her voice to a whisper, speaking softly right into his tapered ear.

    He shivered a little, and she couldn¡¯t tell if it was a reaction to her closeness, or another piece of his internal struggle. ¡°It¡¯s my gift. The other one, the one I don¡¯t like using.¡± Allana nodded gently, recalling the story of the ritual chamber and his gift of the void.

    ¡°It¡¯s hurting you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he told her. His voice was tight again, with a different kind of pain. ¡°The opposite¡­ it knows when I¡¯m in danger, and it wants to be used. It desperately wants to be used.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s a bad thing?¡± Allan asked, keeping her question gentle. Even after her stories, her understanding of what the gift could do was vague at best.

    ¡°Very. You¡­ you don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like. I can¡¯t control it. I-I have to keep it locked down, or¡­¡± his voice cracked, and he paused to take a shaky breath.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Allana told him. ¡°It¡¯s okay now. We did it. Everything is okay.¡±

    Tenebres responded with a jerky nod and another sharp breath. But slowly, the boy put himself together, and Allana just continued to hold him while he did. She felt useless. She didn¡¯t know what else to do, how to reassure him with anything more than an awkward hug¡­

    Finally, he said, in a more even tone, ¡°Okay. I¡¯m okay.¡±

    Allana nodded, and carefully stepped away from him, as if he was made of glass and might break if she moved too quickly. He turned, and gave her a small nod, and a smile even Allana could see was forced.

    ¡°Okay¡­ you need to take a potion now, okay? You¡¯ve lost too much blood.¡±

    Again, Tenebres shook his head. ¡°No. I was serious about that. I promise, I¡¯m okay.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re not, Seo.¡±

    He sighed, and admitted, ¡°Well, I¡¯m okay enough. I think I figured out how to catch at least one of our targets.¡± He gave Allana a shy smile that set her heart pounding, and added, ¡°You¡¯re not going to like it, though.¡±

    #

    He was right, Allana reflected silently, I don¡¯t like this.

    Ahead of her, Tenebres slowly crept down the alley, occasionally stumbling in what Allana hoped was a feigned fashion. He had convinced her that while the darkmaw might be too cautious to attack two obvious battle-gifted, it might be more enticed by a single wounded target. The boy hoped that the smell of his blood would be too tempting for the monster¡¯s dim intelligence to resist.

    Meanwhile, Allana paced along behind him, both of her daggers conjured and slathered in a moderate poison. She had wrapped herself in her best veil, hopefully hiding herself from even the overgrown rat¡¯s senses, and was ready to spring forward as soon as anything attacked the vulnerable boy.

    [Obscuring Veil] - Active, Illusion - Manifest an illusion that partially masks you from conventional senses. Veil is most effective in darkness or other obscuring conditions. Minor focus cost recurs as long as the veil is active.

    So far, they had at least avoided any further attacks by the minor dire vermin, which had been Allana¡¯s first concern. Hidden as she was, it would be hard to help Tenebres without revealing herself, but she could only assume their fighting had made some dent in the pests¡¯ numbers.

    Ahead, Tenebres paused. He looked back at her briefly, and Allana had to admit he was managing a good act. He looked more like he was sweeping the alley for danger than signaling her. She crept closer, and saw what made him pause¨Ca stairway set into the side of the alley, crookedly making its way down into the depths of Undercrawl. Allana wavered a little in place.

    She had been to Undercrawl, the maze of intersecting drainage channels, sewers, and natural tunnels that honeycombed through Emeston¡¯s underground, a few times since she had started working with Geoffrey, but she was pretty sure Tenebres had never entered the lightless complex before. It was dangerous, even more so than Lowrun itself, and home to no small number of monsters¨Cas many of them human as not.

    An unfortunate side effect of her veil was that it suppressed her to all conventional senses. Just as it hid her from view, it masked her scent and any small noise she made, ensuring that the jangling of her bracelets or the scuff of her boots wouldn¡¯t give her away. But it also meant she couldn¡¯t whisper to Tenebres to advise him¨Cshe¡¯d have to all but shout for her voice to carry through the veil, and that would spoil the entire endeavor. That meant there was no way to discuss the wisdom of entering Undercrawl without revealing Allana to any monsters that may have been observing them.

    Tenebres pursed his lips, but finally, he held up a hand and started down the stairway. As he did, a light seemed to flicker into being around his fingers, a sourceless globe of crimson light that cast about as much dim illumination as a torch. Then he began his descent into Undercrawl.

 Chapter 48 - Tenebres

    The magical light consumed but a small trickle of Tenebres¡¯s mystical well, so he kept the spell going as he descended into the depths of Undercrawl. He knew only what Allana and Geoffrey had told him about the place, having never been into the subterranean complex before, but they had emphasized the darkness as one of its most pervasive dangers. Torches and lamps were rare in the lightless tunnels, and many of the monsters native to the shadows had some way to navigate through the stifling darkness.

    His light spell would be an important counter to those shadows, as it couldn¡¯t be knocked out of his hand or extinguished like a conventional torch. He simply had to hope that its minor cost wouldn¡¯t prove the difference between success and failure.

    Tenebres paused periodically as he descended the stairs, examining them. The walls were rough and natural-looking, while the stairs were crude and uneven, forcing him to be careful as he descended them. If he had to guess, they were the result of one or two fairly untrained gifted using the gift of earth to carve a new way into Undercrawl. Tenebres judged it to have been made some time ago too, based on the weathering of the stairs, clearly eroded by time and run-off.

    The stairway wasn¡¯t straight, instead winding back and forth, either due to the ineptitude of its creators or the need to navigate obstacles¨Cmaybe even another building¡¯s basement, considering the depths the stairs were reaching.

    Each time he paused, Tenebres listened intently for any sound of movement, be it a warning of the monster they were searching for approaching or a small reminder that Allana was still nearby. The previous night had strengthened his trust in her, and he had no doubt she was still following him, but that knowledge was only a small comfort in the claustrophobic confines of the subterranean stairway.

    A similar stairway had been carved into the deepest levels of Kellen¡¯s compound. It was that route Tenebres had been carried down, tied and helpless, that fateful night¡­

    As if sensing his hesitancy, Tenebres felt the delicate brush of Allana¡¯s hand along his upper arm, the gentle touch made even more subtle by her veil, but it was enough reassurance for him to continue on his way.

    Tenebres estimated he had been moving downwards steadily for more than ten minutes, and was starting to wonder just how deep this place went, when a cavern suddenly opened up before him. It was as rough and natural looking as the staircases, as if an existing cave had been widened by the same earth bearers that made the staircase.

    Smugglers? Tenbres wondered idly. Does this city even need smugglers? That would require something to actually be contraband.

    Smiling at the thought, Tenebres turned his attention to the cavern itself. It was crooked, full of dancing shadows from the wavering of his blood-soaked hand, with occasional juts from the walls and even some jagged stalagmites along the ceiling. The Novice mage had just enough time to think those would be the perfect place for the monster to hide before a shape hurtled out from behind one of them, his light glinting off dirty yellow fangs and hard black carapace as it dove at him.

    It had all happened too fast. Despite his anxiety as he descended the staircase, the apparent lack of threats had lulled Tenebres into a false sense of security, and he had been busy wondering about the nature of the room as the monster drew closer to him. He had no time to react, or even to cast a defensive spell, as the monster all but fell on him.

    Fortunately, Allana had not been as distracted. There was an odd flicker through the air in front of him, and suddenly the taller girl was standing before him, her body already set to catch the monster, as if she practiced it a thousand times before. Even as the dark shape landed on Allana¡¯s blades, her brass dagger sinking a handspan into its rib cage while her iron weapon stabbed into its stomach, the girl was moving in a single perfect, fluid motion to throw the monster to the ground.

    Tenebres blinked. It was over before he could even move. But to his astonishment, despite Allana¡¯s counter attack, despite the poisons that coated her blades, despite the punishing slam onto the unyielding stone floor, the monster still moved. It twitched a couple times, then jerked in an unsettling, sinuous fashion, and it was back on its feet. Only then did Tenebres get a chance to really see what had attacked him.

    The two lesser monsters they had been sent to kill were far from exotic. Darkmaws were simply overgrown dire rats, known to show some uncanny human-like proportions on bodies that were often five feet from snout to the base of their tail, which could be as much as another three feet. Orbwefts were even more mundane, by monster standards, simply a giant, long-legged spider, with a central body about the same size as a human¡¯s torso.

    Unfortunately, neither ¡°simple¡± nor ¡°mundane¡± described the being in front of them. Tenebres could only guess the two monsters had already attempted to kill each other before he and Allana showed up, and apparently the darkmaw had won. The essential shape of the monstrous rat was still apparent, after all, but it was now so much more than that. Most noticeably, four long, razor-tipped spider legs had burst from its ribcage, and more sections of slick, oily black carapace pushed through its mottley fur seemingly at random. Venom, turned black in the dim red light, dripped from the rat¡¯s fangs, and disturbingly, its skull seemed to be splitting down the middle, making room for additional eyes to peer out.

    ¡°Well. That¡¯s fucked.¡±

    Tenebres snorted a small laugh at Allana¡¯s comment, then the spider-rat was on them again.

    This time, Tenebres was ready for it. He twitched a hand, and a force projectile thudded into the monstrosity¡¯s side, sending it sprawling. Allana was on it before it could recover, daggers flashing, but the monster simply had too many limbs. Its waving tail and nimble legs kept her from getting too close while it regained its balance, and then the fight was on. Allana¡¯s blades wove complex patterns in the air, but each was met by one of the monster¡¯s numerous limbs.

    At that moment, it was hard to remember that neither of Allana¡¯s gifts gave direct combat abilities, and neither veils nor her poisons availed her in her current fight. The girl¡¯s natural skill and hard won experience simply proved more than a match for the monster¡¯s unnatural savagery. Still, Tenebres knew that the fight teetered on a knife¡¯s edge, and a single mistake could see Allana¡¯s dead.

    He kept one hand raised, keeping the room illuminated for Allana, and began to add his own spells to the mix, force missiles thudding into the spider-rat from every angle. Each hit was nearly insignificant, the already limited threat of his spells further blunted by the clearly magical carapace the rat had gained, but damage wasn¡¯t the goal. Each hit threw off the monstrosity¡¯s balance by a tiny bit, an ultimately minor advantage¨Cbut Allana had spent her life surviving off minor advantages, and each time Tenebres used a spell, Allana got closer to landing a definitive hit.

    The gifts given by the Mage, including Tenebres¡¯s own gift of the evoker, were different from most gifts. Where the average combat-oriented gift at Novice level gave two simple abilities, generally one offensive and one either defensive or utility, the gift of the evoker gave but a single ability.

    [Novice Evocations] - Spell - Gain access to Novice level evocations, utilizing your mystical well as a resource. Spells require study in order to learn.

    Unlike normal gift abilities, which were often instinctive and straight-forward, the spells granted by the Mage¡¯s blessings required study and mastery to use. In exchange, bearers of magic gifts had a far more flexible store of tricks than most bearers of the same level.

    The kinetic energy equations that Novice evocations were built on were fairly simple to Tenebres, and after only a couple months, he had mastered four of the half-dozen cantrips available to Novice evokers. His first and most traditional evocation was the force missile, a simple projectile of nearly invisible kinetic energy that hit with about as much force as a well-thrown rock. It was further limited by both its range and the fact that he needed a straight line on his target. His favorite spell was similar, but allowed the projectile to originate anywhere within twenty feet or so around him. Directing the attack from a different origin point was significantly less efficient than the normal missile, though his mastery of the associated equations helped keep it fairly close, but the ability to help Allana without needing to find a clear shot through her bobbing, weaving form was worth it.

    Desperate to turn the fight back in their favor, Tenebres turned to his augment to strengthen his next spell.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    [Blood Magic] - Void, Evoker - Passive - You may take damage in order to enhance the power of your evocation spells.

    A searing pain suddenly shot up his arm, which had already been pretty carved up in their previous fights, but Tenebres ignored the agony to focus on his spell. His next force missile appeared with a faint red glow, and it slammed home perfectly, the enhanced attack slamming into the wound Allana had left in the spider-rat¡¯s gut.

    The monster shrieked in pain and its own barrage of attacks slowed for a moment. Allana didn¡¯t hesitate to take advantage of the monster¡¯s faltering, sweeping both of her blades in a sudden pair of broad slashes. One of the monster¡¯s spider legs went spinning away into the darkness, while Allana¡¯s iron blade cut straight down its chest.

    The spider-rat¡¯s shriek of pain echoed through the little cavern, and the monster suddenly flailed about with all of its limbs. Allana danced backward, but even so, her brass dagger got snared by spider-rat¡¯s long, twisting tail. Apparently having inherited the adhesive properties of the orbweft¡¯s webs, the writhing appendage snatched Allana¡¯s dagger right out of her hand. Fortunately, what would¡¯ve been a crippling disadvantage for another gifted was barely an inconvenience for Allana. The wraith girl twitched her empty hand twice, first making the weapon disappear, then conjuring it back into her hand.

    The spider-rat quickly recovered from the pain and fixed a glare of wild fury on Allana. Blood, turned black in the dim light of Tenebres¡¯s spell, dripped from the stump of its severed legs, while more ran down its chest from the messy wound on its chest. To Tenebres¡¯s shock, he saw the monster¡¯s eyes dart to him, behind Allana, and he was reminded of his original estimate of the monster¡¯s intelligence. While not truly sentient, it apparently possessed enough cunning to identify Tenebres as the key to Allana¡¯s success in their last exchange.

    The monster arched its back and released a keening hiss that was noticeably different from the noises it had made up to that point, pitched at a tone that quickly raised above Tenebres¡¯s ability to hear, but which he was sure would leave him with a headache when all of this was over.

    Provided he was still alive to suffer through it.

    As if summoned by the monster¡¯s hiss, more shapes began to dart out of the shadowy corners of the cavern¨Canother half dozen dire rats, and as many more dire spiders. The majority of them rushed Allana, who swore at the sudden attack, but a pair of rats and a single spider darted towards Tenebres instead.

    Tenebres waved the hand that he wasn¡¯t focusing his light through, sending out force missiles as quickly as he could. One caught the spider in midair, crushing it with a satisfying crunch, while another managed to catch one of the dire rats from the side, sending it rolling across the cave floor, badly injured, but the last made it to Tenebres before he could manage another spell, leaping on him with razor sharp teeth flashing.

    Tenebres fumbled at his belt, feeling the burning pain as the oversized rat landed on his arm, putting him off-balance enough to send him tumbling to the ground. Its claws and teeth alike inflicted a dozen scratches on his arm and would¡¯ve done the same to his chest if not for the quilted cloth of his shirt, which it still shredded promptly. Before it could get any deeper, Tenebres finally got his fingers around the handle of the knife secured at his belt and stabbed it into the vermin¡¯s side, pushing the still flailing monster off of him, where he could stab it a couple more times, putting an end to its struggles.

    The whole confrontation, from the appearance of the vermin to the last one¡¯s bloody death, had taken mere seconds, but as Tenebres looked up, he realized that even that had been too long. With Allana distracted by the remaining minor monsters, the mutated spider-rat had rushed him, its movements swift despite its ungainly, lop-sided gait.

    The lesser monster was on him before he could even fully turn. Its own long, razor-edged claws dug a long pair of furrows in his arm, and he heard the clatter as his knife fell from numb fingers. He couldn¡¯t see anymore, as one of the equally-sharp spider legs had stabbed his other arm, and he had lost control of the spell keeping his light going. More spider legs quickly rent his quilted tunic to rags, and as the monster bore him back to the ground, Tenebres realized he was going to die if he didn¡¯t do anything.

    Ignoring the searing of the brand on his chest, Tenebres shoved a hand against the coarse fur of the monster¡¯s chest and used a spell he hadn¡¯t quite mastered yet. Ideally, it was supposed to release a pulse of force, a powerful but short-ranged way to push an attacker away, a last minute defense for just this sort of situation. Tenebres¡¯s understanding of the equations involved in the brief burst of kinetic energy was sketchy at best, but he made up it by pumping his own blood into the spell.

    The burning pain of the Blood Magic¡¯s self-inflicted damage climbed to his shoulders, higher than it had ever had before, and Tenebres¡¯s vision swam as the blood loss hit him¨Cbut the desperate spell did its job, sending the rat monster flying. Then, without thought, he turned on the floor, grabbed the limp body of the first dire rat, the one he had incapacitated before it could reach him, and used an ability he had never tried.

    [Sacrificial Victim] - Active, Final - Make a physical attack that does a small amount of dark damage on a hit. If this hit kills the target, receive a moderate boost to all physical or mental attributes for a lesser duration. Minor focus cost.

    In the darkness, Tenebres didn¡¯t see the effects of the ability, but he heard the dire rat¡¯s pitiful squeal. The noise ended abruptly¨Cand then Tenebres felt power flow into him.

    [Sacrificial Victim] final effect triggered

    Physical attributes boosted

    Tenebres¡¯s physical abilities had always been a weakness for him. He was slight by nature, and his gifts had both favored mental attribute boons over physical ones. But very suddenly, that was no longer the case. The moderate boosts weren¡¯t overwhelming, but as they hit all of his attributes at once, Tenebres suddenly felt like a whole new person. Someone strong and tough, a natural fighter, like Allana.

    He heard the spider-rat scurrying towards him again, but this time, it seemed simple to brace for it. He pulled his legs up until he could grab his leather boots, his knees touching his chest, and the moment the lesser monster hit him, he pushed off, the power of his strength attribute and timing of his coordination attribute allowing him to send it flying back through the air, propelled by mundane muscle rather than magical skill.

    The moment the monster was off him, Tenebres scrambled to his feet. His arms and chest still burned, but the near-incapacitating pain had been lessened by his enhanced stamina and resilience. He was more than able to focus his thoughts and use his dwindling mystical well to fuel his light spell again.

    Once again, the subterranean chamber was bathed in light that matched the crimson of his eyes. There was no longer any sign of Allana and the other monsters, just Tenebres and his foe. With casual grace, a product of his improved speed, Tenebres grabbed his little knife from where it had fallen and held it ready as the monster leaped at him again.

    He didn¡¯t have the skill and talent of Allana, and knew that even with his temporary boons, he couldn¡¯t face the monster down the way Allana did.

    But he didn¡¯t have to. Even without enhancing his mental attributes, Tenebres had a mind like a razor, and he had noticed something very important when he threw the spider-rat off of him: it wasn¡¯t as heavy as it looked. Some combination of the natural skinny rat monster and the oddly light-weight spider chitin allowed the monster its speed and the ability to crawl and hide amongst the stalactites on the ceiling, but that same advantage could be turned into a weakness.

    Sacrificial Victim had boosted the scrawny boy¡¯s physical abilities to something in line with an actual battle-gifted, but his most potent weapon was still his mind. Even if Tenebres didn¡¯t have the energy to throw around any more force missiles, he still had the intuitive and carefully cultivated understanding of kinetic energy, momentum, and inertia that were necessary for an evoker.

    As the spider-rat lunged at him yet again, Tenebres calmly stepped to one side of its charge, his coordination making it simple to judge their position. He chose to move to the side that was missing a leg from the monster¡¯s earlier bout with Allana, and avoided the spare spider leg as he plunged his little knife into its side, using it as leverage to to turn the lightweight monster¡¯s momentum against it and send it tumbling away from him once again. But this time, he wasn¡¯t shoving it away blindly.

    He had sent it in the direction he had last seen Allana.

    Blades flashed as the wraith girl¡¯s veil shattered, and the darkmaw¡¯s unsettling head went spinning through the air as the monster¡¯s body gave a final flail and collapsed.

    [Gift of the Void] experienced gained

    Experience: 33%

    In the aftermath, both young assassins stood in place, panting and blood-soaked from the unexpectedly vicious fight.

    ¡°How¡­ in the Rogue¡¯s name¡­ did you do that?¡± Allana asked between breaths.

    ¡°The gift I don¡¯t like using¡­¡± Tenebres explained. He was less out of breath than Allana, but now that the fight was over, the full pain of his wounds, both self-inflicted and not, were hitting him, and he knew he had mere minutes until his boons ran out. ¡°Lesser duration¡± wasn¡¯t the most specific time limit, but like all gift abilities, Tenebres had an intuitive understanding of when the effects would end, and he knew that the shock of his wounds without the support of his current stamina and resilience could very well kill him.

    ¡°I think¡­ I¡¯ll take one of those potions now¡­¡± Tenebres told Allana. He took a step towards her¨Cand he then found that even his boosts had limits.

    The boy¡¯s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed bonelessly to the cave floor.

 Chapter 49 - Caden

    Caden felt the tell-tale surge of power through the dirt underneath him, and he sprang forward. He struck the ground at an awkward angle, but still managed to turn it into a clumsy roll. The moment he made it to his feet, he blindly hurled his hatchet at his foe to buy a moment of time, and rushed forward.

    Alyssia met the attack easily, her own slender sword slapping away the projectile and easily parrying each desperate blow from the raidblade Caden had looted from the gnolls over a week before. Even after months of training, first with the hunters of Felisen, then with Storyteller, and now with Alyssia, Caden simply couldn¡¯t match the noble¡¯s consummate skill with the blade, and he quickly found himself pushed back. Another slight tremor ran through the ground under his feet, and Caden knew the sentinel was backing him towards another pit trap.

    Fortunately, this time, he had prepared for just this situation.

    [Gift of the Skirmisher] reflected

    [Cunning Maneuver] - Active - Sharply boost coordination and speed for a single moment. Lesser stamina cost, one minute cooldown.

    It was as if the entire world slowed to a halt. Even as Alyssia¡¯s sword twisted in the serpentine motion that had ended a dozen other practice bouts, Caden lunged to the side, his body positioned perfectly so that the older girl¡¯s sword wouldn¡¯t touch him. Immediately, the momentary advantage left him, but not only had it allowed him to disengage without exposing himself to the pit behind him, it carried him to the side of Alyssia¡¯s lunge, leaving her exposed.

    He thrust forward with his raidblade, but suddenly Alyssia was there to meet him. Rather than stabbing into her exposed side, their blades met in a clash of sparks, and in a twisting motion too fluid for Caden to make out, his sword was sent flying away. The precise maneuver ended with the tip of Alyssia¡¯s blade resting at Caden¡¯s chin.

    ¡°I surrender,¡± Caden conceded, holding up his empty hands.

    Alyssia winked. ¡°I know.¡± She sheathed her own sword in a sharp motion. ¡°That was good there at the end, though.¡±

    ¡°Did I catch you by surprise?¡± Caden asked. He had hoped to catch the girl off guard the same way he had once defeated Brian, by copying an unexpected gift. Normally, when he faced the noble girl, Caden preferred to reflect the Stone Toss from her earth gift, using it to pressure her from afar.

    ¡°Almost,¡± Alyssia admitted. ¡°But you threw your hatchet before you came at me¨Cnormally, if you have Stone Toss, you prefer to use that as your closer.¡± The corner of the girl¡¯s mouth quirked up. ¡°You¡¯re still thinking too defensively, though. Cunning Maneuver is a powerful tool for dodging, but it¡¯s even more dangerous as an attack. Your strength is in versatility just as much as any skirmisher, you can¡¯t always be conservative like that.¡±

    Caden frowned pensively, but acknowledged the point. The simple truth he was reluctantly coming to accept was that he was never going to win a fair bout against someone like Alyssia, who had been training as long as she could hold a sword. His advantages were surprise and unconventional strategies, but it was hard to develop those sorts of techniques when he had to practice using so many different abilities. Matching Storyteller¡¯s flexibility often seemed impossible.

    In the time since he had arrived in Kellister, Alyssia and Caden had become fairly close. The noble sentinel had a more metropolitan perspective than Caden had expected after years of hearing about the conservatism of aristocrats. The older girl had barely batted an eye when the lunar-presenting Caden showed up to one of their bouts several days before.

    ¡°Some nobles get really caught up in traditional relationships,¡± Alyssia had explained. ¡°They¡¯re so concerned about the name and the bloodline and all of that. But most of the sentinels I work with grew up as commoners, and among them, it¡¯s not uncommon to see people identifying or presenting differently.¡± Caden had been interested to hear more, but the older girl had gotten oddly reflective after making the comment, and he had guessed that prying wouldn¡¯t be appreciated.

    If nothing else, the time spent in Kellister had been fantastic for Caden¡¯s growth. Storyteller had insisted it would be worthwhile, as the aftermath of the gnoll attack and the brutal storm that had followed shortly thereafter had left the village vulnerable to an abruptly increased number of wind, water, and lightning aspected monsters. In helping to defend the village and hunt down the storm-spawned monsters, Caden had gotten the chance to try out an assortment of gifts he had never experienced before.

    Storyteller had emphasized that the gifts granted by the Warrior would be Caden¡¯s bread-and-butter to copy, as they were both common and impactful, but in Felisen, the martially-inclined gifts had been rare. He had only gotten the chance to practice with Ryme¡¯s gift of the archer and Denning¡¯s gift of the brawler. In Kellister, Caden had the opportunity to try two more of the six Warrior disciplines.

    Alyssia had the gift of the skirmisher, a clever combat gift based on skill and prolonged combat against multiple enemies, slowly whittling opponents down and accumulating advantages, while Bernard, the village¡¯s chief hunter, had the gift of the guardian, which offered a purely defensive skill set. Not only that, another of Kellister¡¯s hunters had the gift of water, and no small number of the village¡¯s residents shared the same gift of earth as Alyssia, giving Caden the chance to practice with Primal gifts besides Storyteller¡¯s powerful, but draining, gift of lightning.

    As Caden learned to use new techniques and adopted more abilities with Soul Reflection, he had finally seen his gift of the echo gain significant experience for the first time since leaving Felisen.

    [Gift of the Echo]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 37%

    Use abilities on unique targets to gain experience.

    However, rather than feel the gap between his rivals shrink, Caden felt farther away from the other battle-gifted with every passing day. Not only were Kellister¡¯s hunters, and Alyssia, higher level than Caden, they used their limited gifts with much more skill, having already figured out every trick and advantage their abilities could give them.

    ¡°What are you doing for the afternoon?¡± Alyssia asked, drawing Caden¡¯s attention back to reality. ¡°I¡¯m heading to the quarry, if you want to join me.¡±

    Quality stone was a rarity outside of the northern frontier, and Kellister¡¯s quarry was the source of no small part of its local pride. But while the stone enabled a significant additional trade for the town and allowed for its large number of brick buildings, it also led to the noticeable number of earth-aspected monsters that emerged from underground. That was actually what had brought Alyssia to the little town¨Caccording to her, fighting those particular monsters helped to advance her gift of earth, and as she was approaching Initiate level, she needed every scrap of experience she could get.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Caden replied, still feeling frustrated, ¡°but I¡¯ll leave it to you. I want to talk to St-¡± he broke off into a little cough to cover his slip, and amended, ¡°Sir Toren.¡±

    Alyssia rolled her eyes at the obvious slip. The noble girl hadn¡¯t been shy about her suspicion towards the false knight, but after seeing him in action at the Cairn Glade, she hadn¡¯t pressed the issue, trusting his motives if not his identity. ¡°Okay, whatever you want.¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The older girl started to turn around, then hesitated, before she added, ¡°Hey, meet me out here tonight, okay? After dinner.¡±

    Caden arched an eyebrow and looked around the empty field they used for their practice bouts, the question of why obvious on his face.

    Alyssia rolled her eyes. ¡°Just do it, or I¡¯ll stop holding back and really leave you with some bruises.¡±

    Caden snorted and waved. ¡°Whatever you want,¡± he echoed with a smirk. ¡°Have fun at the quarry.¡±

    #

    Kellister had recovered quickly from the brutal raid, Caden reflected as he moved through the village. In just over a week, much of the damage from the gnoll attack was no longer apparent, the completely ruined buildings torn down and the recoverable homes and business repaired by the industrious villagers. Idly, as he walked the village¡¯s streets, Caden wondered if Felisen would have been able to recover so quickly.

    The quarry was no small part of it. In addition to allowing the larger number of stone and brick buildings, which had proven more resilient to fire than traditional wood and thatch, it gave Kellister a valuable additional industry, a form of wealth that supplemented the lumber and reagent trades Felisen was entirely dependent on.

    Caden paused at a fire-scarred plot of land where a handful of burly men and women were laying out the stone for a new house. The workers didn¡¯t pause their work, but they acknowledged Caden¡¯s presence with brief waves and small nods. After a week of fighting storm monsters alongside Alyssia and the village¡¯s hunters, most of the town was aware of the visiting knight¡¯s squire and treated him with a distant sort of respect, unsure of his actual social status.

    Admittedly, it had thrown a few of them when Caden emerged from his inn room a few days before, hair pulled back under a cap and clothing adjusted to present cleaner, tighter lines and conceal what little curves his body had. Caden had always found it amusing how little it took to present himself in what others considered a lunar way. In fact, the first time he had done so, when he had snuck in amongst a large trade caravan visiting Felisen, it had been by accident, and hadn¡¯t realized it until a flattering merchant addressed him as ¡°young sir,¡± and Cadence had found themself liking the title.

    Storyteller had cautioned him against making such a noticeable change while they were in Kellister, not wanting to draw any additional attention to his no-doubt paper thin persona, but Caden had decided that he had spent enough time letting fear govern how he presented himself. He had gone ahead with wearing the clothes and personality that had felt right, and the villagers had reacted with the same sort of earthy indifference Caden was used to. The boy was still smart and capable, and the people who lived in the villages like this had bigger concerns than how a passing traveler like Caden chose to dress and act.

    As he watched, the group of laborers finished stacking a large pile of rough-hewn stone to one side of the lot. While most of them left, wheeling carts to load with more stone, two women stayed standing in front of the pile of stone. They both closed their eyes, looks of intense concentration on their faces, and they began to slowly lift their hands, as if they were lifting a heavy object.

    As they did, the stone began to change. A chorus of tiny popping noises accompanied a cloud of fine white dust falling from the stones. Soon, Caden could only barely make out the shape of the stone pile through the obscuring dust¨Cthen the two women abruptly dropped their hands, and the popping was replaced with loud clunking noise. Slowly, the cloud settled to reveal a wall of simple gray brick, constructing itself before Caden¡¯s eyes. Over the course of a few minutes, the wall finished cobbling itself together, and two women suddenly relaxed, gasping for breath as they surveyed the newly constructed square section of brick wall, ten feet to a side.

    Interested, Caden reached out with his augment, his most rarely used ability.

    [Gift Divination] - Wanderer, Echo - Active, Utility, Soul - Learn the gifts possessed by a target. Can only be used on targets your level or lower.

    He was pleased to feel the ability successfully activate¨Cat Novice level, Gift Divination¡¯s level limitation was a difficult hill to overcome, and Caden was far more used to the ability failing than anything else.

    [Gift Divination] successful

    Novice Level

    [Gift of the Mason]

    [Gift of the Laborer]

    He recognized the name of the first gift, though Storyteller had not spent much time on the gifts granted by the Artisan, the archetype of craftspeople. Though far from dangerous in combat, the Artisan¡¯s gifts were crucial to trade in the Realm. Old Man Callahan¡¯s carpenter blessing had come from the same archetype, as did many other precious gifts like the blacksmith, the weaver, and the tanner.

    The gift of the laborer, however, was significantly more familiar. One of the gifts of the Elder, it was as common among the quarry workers of Kellister as it had been amongst the loggers in Felisen. Its abilities were simple¨Ca boon to stamina, a temporary strength buff, and the ability to increase the potency of non-combat tools like lumber axes or hammers. Despite that simplicity, it was an invaluable gift among the communities of the Heartland, and Storyteller had assured Caden it was common amongst caravaners and even porters in the larger cities.

    That was typical of the gifts of the Elder. Though the Greater Triad were considered to grant the most common blessingsin the Realm, Caden was willing to bet that the Elder, the archetype of the common folk, could give any of them a run for their scepters. It was just that his blessings were more straight-forward and less showy than the famed martial, magical, and elemental gifts of the Greater Triad.

    The hunter gift, with its abilities to increase damage on a single mark and to bolster survival skills, wasn¡¯t as obviously powerful as certain Warrior gifts, but it was hunters that worked to safeguard the villages of the Heartlands, not brawlers or skirmishers. And without the gift of the farmer and rancher allowing for small numbers of gifted yeomen to cultivate large surpluses of crops and livestock, the supply lines the bastion cities depended on would wither.

    Caden resumed walking, his steps soon taking him through the well square in the center of Kellister. His eyes drifted to the large building that directly abutted the square. Caden recalled noticing the place and the large crowd that had built up around it in the wake of the gnoll raid. Alyssia had later explained that a pair of herbalists, a married couple, lived there, catering to the ills and injuries of Kellister¡¯s residents. Both were Apprentice level, and skilled enough that people from other smaller villages would come to Kellister for help treating their more dangerous maladies.

    In the cities, Storyteller claimed, alchemy was far more common than in the Heartlands. Alchemists could distill the magic absorbed by reagents in nature to create a variety of magically-infused concoctions, including the potions Caden kept in a tight pocket of his vest. But in the Heartlands, alchemy was too wasteful to be sustainable. The gift of the herbalist, another gift from the Elder, not only allowed for the cultivation of reagents in small gardens like the one adjacent to Kellister¡¯s town square, but gave them the ability to temporarily improve the magic of a given reagent, making glintcaps and shimmerberries effective enough to treat even severe wounds without the need to decant potions.

    Caden¡¯s mother had sought out an herbalist to live in Felisen for years, but only recently had someone proven to have the proper inclination to receive the gift¨CEllie, a girl a couple years older than Caden was. The girl Brian started seeing after they had broken things off.

    Caden was faintly surprised to find that the thought of her first partner and the comely blonde herbalist didn¡¯t stir up the dark emotions he had anticipated. Instead, he found himself thankful that Storyteller had helped Ellie gain the gift of the alchemist to go with her herbalism. Given enough time, her arts would be an immeasurable boon to Felisen.

    Finally, Caden decided that yes, his home would be as capable of rebounding from such a severe attack as Kellister was. That was, in many ways, the true gift of the Elder¨Cthe ability to persevere and flourish, even in the face of constant danger like that which still haunted the supposedly settled Heartlands.

    If only he could say the same for his own powers. Sometimes, it felt like he had moved backwards since he had left home with Storyteller. He had more experience than ever, and had defeated dozens of minor monsters, but against other battle-gifted, his skills were stagnating. He felt little better than he had fighting Brian in the makeshift practice ring back home.

    All around him were people, from hunters to laborers to healers, who found the perfect gifts for what they wanted to do and wanted to be and cultivated their talents around them. But Caden was different. His gift of the wanderer, a gift he wasn¡¯t even supposed to have at Novice level, was handy enough to have on the road, but offered nothing worthwhile in combat. It was the gift of the echo that had occupied all of his training time, still to little effect.

    Sure, when he could copy an ability as potent as Storyteller¡¯s Lightning Bolt, or when he was boosted by his Soul Surge, he was more than able to handle himself, but both of those offered significant drawbacks. They couldn¡¯t be relied on. And without them, he was little better than someone with no gifts at all!

    Caden frowned, pensive and dissatisfied, as he finished making his way back to the inn, wondering if he had made the right choice on the bonfire hill all those weeks ago.

 Chapter 50 - Caden

    Their first night in Kellister, Bernard had arranged for ¡°Sir Toren¡± and his squire to have a room for themselves in the town¡¯s inn. While not as welcoming as the Honeyed Pear had been, closer to a boarding house for travelers than a real inn, it had the brick walls common to the village, allowing it to better retain the cool, dry air produced by a handful of chillgems scattered around the building, even in the face of the muggy summer heat.

    ¡°Not out with Alyssia today?¡± Storyteller asked as Caden entered their shared room.

    Caden grunted as he plopped on his pallet. As a supposed knight, Storyteller merited a full straw mattress, while Caden was stuck with the stiff board of a bed.

    The senior adventurer looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow arched. He slipped a bookmark between the pages and clapped the book shut before asking, ¡°Okay, what¡¯s wrong? Did Alyssia turn you down?¡±

    Caden looked up, his brow furrowed. ¡°What? No, I¡¯m meeting up with her after dinner tonight.¡± Caught up in his thoughts, Caden missed the look of amusement that danced across Storyteller¡¯s face. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯m not progressing the way I want to be.¡± He crossed his arms over his chest in frustration, thumb stroking over his wrist, where the winding road of the Wanderer and the rippling pool of the Echo were engraved in his skin.

    Storyteller exhaled slowly through his nose, clearly weary of this conversation. ¡°You¡¯re a Novice, Caden, and you¡¯ve been at this not even three months. It¡¯s normal for it to take some time.¡±

    The blue-haired teen shook his head, frustrated. ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. It¡¯s just¡­ something¡¯s not right. It doesn¡¯t feel the way it should.¡±

    Storyteller tilted his head, his interest piqued. ¡°How should it feel then?¡±

    Caden flashed a dirty look at him. ¡°Stop it. I hate leading questions like that. I came to you for advice, not condescension.¡±

    Storyteller arched an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the sharp response, and Caden flushed with guilt. His bad mood wasn¡¯t Storyteller¡¯s fault.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he mumbled.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. And I am trying to help you, okay? Remember, there¡¯s no guide book for gifts like yours, especially at your level. I¡¯m honestly interested in how you feel.¡±

    Caden frowned, and turned his eyes back to the floor, trying to control his sour feelings. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well. Most of the common gifts have been pretty well cataloged at this point. The six fighting styles of the Warrior, the five disciplines of the Mage, the seven common elements of the Primal, even the roles of the Elder and the most popular ensouled items and totems. If you had any of those gifts, it would be easy to train you, because I¡¯d have plenty of points of reference.¡±

    ¡°But my gifts are special¡­¡± Caden muttered. Already, he could feel curiosity starting to pierce the veil of frustration.

    ¡°Exactly. I¡¯ve had you practice with any common gifts we could find so that you could get used to them, but I¡¯m still figuring out how to help you progress.¡±

    ¡°What about you though?¡± Caden asked. ¡°You have the same gifts as me, right?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Storyteller acknowledged, ¡°but I didn¡¯t get them at Novice level the way you did. At your level, I had the Mage¡¯s gift of the artificer and the Primal¡¯s gift of lightning. Neither are exactly common, but they¡¯re far from unheard of. I didn¡¯t get the gift of the wanderer until I was an Initiate, and the gift of the echo was my last gift, when I was already past Expert. I was using them to supplement skills I already had, not building my foundation off of them.¡±

    Caden frowned, trying to piece together the best uses of his odd pair of gifts. It was like trying to put together a puzzle where the pieces just didn¡¯t fit together. Their flaws seemed best represented by his augment.

    Augments were supposed to be the most potent and personal parts of a gifted¡¯s arsenal, their signature abilities. Even Caden could see the potential power of Gift Divination, but like the rest of his abilities, it was harshly limited by his current level. He could only use it on those who had a single gift, or who were Novice like him. Since he had received the ability, he had used it maybe half a dozen times.

    ¡°Back when we met,¡± Caden recalled, ¡°and we were starting my training, you said that my augment would be the core of my abilities. You talked about me using it to read my opponent, to mimic their own abilities and turn them back on them. Do you remember that?¡±

    Storyteller nodded.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t think that¡¯s right. You don¡¯t fight like that, do you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Storyteller said, ¡°by the time I received the gift of the echo, I had a fighting style all my own. I use the gift primarily to supplement my own abilities when they lack an answer for a specific situation. But I had thought, if I had the time to train you from the start¡­¡±

    Caden shook his head more firmly. His eyes were unfocused as his gifts reappeared in front of him. He examined them more closely, more thoughtfully, leaving aside assumptions he now recognized as parts of Storyteller¡¯s plans more than intrinsic parts of the gifts.

    [Gift of the Wanderer]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 43%

    Explore new places and understand the heart of an adventurer to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Know Direction] - Active, Utility - Learn the direction of true north. No cost.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] - Active, Utility - Learn rudimentary knowledge about any single target. May not work on exceptional or rare targets. Minor focus cost per use.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Mantle] - Boon - Moderate boost to stamina and awareness.

    [Gift of the Echo]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 37%

    Use abilities on unique targets to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Gift Reflection] - Active, Soul - Copy one gift ability from a nearby target. Gift abilities operate at Novice level regardless of the target¡¯s level. Abilities from certain gifts cannot be copied. This ability has a one hour cool down, but the copied ability is retained until it is used again.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    [Soul Empowerment] - Boon - Minor boost to all attributes.

    Augments:

    [Gift Divination] - Wanderer, Echo - Active, Utility, Soul - Learn the gifts possessed by a target. Can only be used on targets your level or lower.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m not seeing what they need to really work.¡±

    Storyteller frowned down at Caden from his bed.

    ¡°Keep talking,¡± he told Caden. ¡°Tell me more, describe the problems you¡¯re feeling.¡±

    Caden blinked, and he dismissed the description of his gifts. ¡°What?¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s eyes retained intent, but they were still the dark, warm brown Caden associated with Storyteller¡¯s most genuine persona. ¡°Since the day I met you, I¡¯ve been impressed by your mind,¡± the older man explained. ¡°It has nothing to do with attributes or gifts. You have this natural curiosity to you, and this¡­ fixation on whatever matter you¡¯re interested in. Half the things I planned to teach you, you figured out on your own. So keep talking. If anyone can figure out how best to use your gifts, it¡¯s you.¡±

    Caden blinked a few times, surprised by the sudden honesty. He had grown used to Storyteller¡¯s seemingly habitual obfuscation, as if to give a straight answer or show his true feelings on anything would be a personal failure. But every now and then, like after the Cairn Glade, he revealed a level of sincerity that was just as difficult to process and respond to.

    ¡°Okay¡­ Well, when I was dueling with Alyssia today, I tried to use one of her skirmisher abilities, Cunning Maneuver.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m familiar.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I thought that it would surprise her, because I usually prefer one of her earth abilities, and it did let me dodge an attack that would¡¯ve ended the fight. But when I tried to do a follow-up, she used the same ability to not just dodge, but to counter and disarm me.¡±

    ¡°Well, she is-¡±

    ¡°I know she¡¯s an Apprentice,¡± Caden cut off the excuse before he could finish it, ¡°and I know she¡¯s a noble, with much more training than me. But that wasn¡¯t the difference¨CI couldn¡¯t have done something like that with Cunning Maneuver, even if I had practiced with it. The ability¡¯s window is just too small. Alyssia probably practiced that technique for months, perfecting the movement within the tiny time frame of the ability¡¯s boost, so that she could do it without thought. No matter how good I get, I¡¯ll never get to that point, because I need to practice with so many different abilities, to be able to adapt to whatever gift I can use in any given fight.

    ¡°No matter what gift I copy from an opponent, I¡¯m going to be at a disadvantage. Sure, throwing them off balance by copying them is great, but it¡¯s a cheap mimicry. They¡¯ll always use whatever ability I copy more efficiently and competently than me. I¡¯m sure the strategy might work if I ever get to your level, where the broad boons and whatever Soul Surge does at high levels help to make up the difference, but that¡¯s still years away. I need a strategy that works now to ever have a hope of making it that high.¡±

    Storyteller nodded seriously. ¡°Clearly you¡¯ve been thinking about this a lot.¡±

    Caden felt his cheeks color a little. He hadn¡¯t expected it all to come spilling out like that. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess I have.¡±

    ¡°So what do you want to do instead?¡± Storyteller asked, seeming genuinely curious. ¡°What¡¯s the better way to do it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ I need abilities I can copy consistently, so that I can have the right tool for any particular job. Have a strong ranged option when I fight someone like Alyssia, but be able to switch to a defensive or a mobility power when I¡¯m fighting someone, or something, that demands them. Not using the echo to try to be a bad copy, but to be flexible. Overcome enemies with versatility.¡± He looked up at Storyteller, suddenly insecure. ¡°Does that¡­ does it make sense?¡±

    Storyteller nodded thoughtfully. ¡°It does. In fact, you¡¯ll get just the tool when you hit Initiate. They¡¯re called mementos.¡±

    Caden wilted a little at the idea of needing to wait two whole levels, but asked, ¡°What are mementos, then?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve watched me fight and use my powers before. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed that I¡¯m able to change my gifts even when there¡¯s no one nearby for me to copy.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and your eyes change too.¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s mouth twitched, and a little laugh slipped out of him. ¡°Right¡­ trust me, that was a surprise the first time someone mentioned them to me. But essentially, yes. Those eye color changes reflect the three gifts I have mementos for. They¡¯re special items that I can save a gift in, letting me target them with Gift Reflection. Then I use my version of Soul Surge to match the attributes they need to function. At Initiate, you¡¯ll be able to make one too, but only one. And it¡¯s a bit of a process.¡±

    Caden pursed his lips. It was interesting to know how Storyteller¡¯s fighting style worked, but it didn¡¯t do him any good now. Sure, being able to put something like Storyteller¡¯s Lightning Bolt into one of these mementos would be good, but it wasn¡¯t enough. ¡°That¡¯s not the kind of versatility I was hoping for,¡± Caden said. ¡°It¡¯s just one more thing that will get better when I level up, but it doesn¡¯t do me any good now!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Storyteller acknowledged. ¡°I have one idea, perhaps¡­ Give me a couple days, okay? Let me try to figure it out.¡±

    #

    The taproom of Kellister¡¯s inn was as empty as ever that night, and Storyteller and Caden had no problem finding a table that offered some small amount of privacy. As they were in public, Storyteller¡¯s eyes had taken on the cold blue shade of his knight persona, and he carried himself with an air of formal rigidity at odds with the simple, if hearty, fare being served.

    Caden couldn¡¯t help but examine Storyteller, thinking of the veritable feast of information the adventurer had provided about his abilities. The change went deeper than he claimed, that much was obvious. Sir Toren¡¯s entire demeanor, down to the pitch of his voice, was a stark contrast to Storyteller¡¯s normal personality. Considering Caden¡¯s own habit of switching his body language and presentation, it was fascinating to watch how quickly Storyteller could change personas. Moving between genders was easy enough for Caden, considering how different they were, but it boggled his mind to imagine trying to become a whole different individual, rather than just expressing different sides of himself.

    ¡°So,¡± Sir Toren asked, drawing Caden out of his thoughts, ¡°you mentioned Alyssia wanted to meet up with you after dinner?¡±

    Caden shugged. He tore off a chunk of thick, dark bread and dipped it into the remainder of his stew to soak in the broth. ¡°Yeah. She didn¡¯t say why, though.¡±

    Toren arched an eyebrow, and for a brief moment, a much more Storyteller-ish flash of amusement danced across his face. ¡°I would think you¡¯d be able to make a guess or two as to why.¡±

    Caden looked up in time to see the look on the older man¡¯s face, and he blinked in surprise. ¡°What? You don¡¯t mean she¨C¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°But she doesn¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°She does.¡±

    Caden stared at the knight for a moment, half expecting him to laugh at the joke at his expense. ¡°Really?¡±

    The corner of Sir Toren¡¯s mouth twitched, as if he was suppressing a smile. ¡°It¡¯s just one man¡¯s opinion, but I think so.¡±

    Caden frowned thoughtfully. Though they had only known each other a hair over a week, Caden reflected that he had spent time with Alyssia basically every day since they arrived in Kellister, between touring the village, hunting storm and stone monsters, and training together. They joked around a lot, and he was comfortable around her, but did she really¡­

    ¡°But¡­ we¡¯re going to have to leave soon, right?¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Toren confirmed. ¡°There haven¡¯t been any storm monsters for a couple days now. I suspect the worst has passed, so it¡¯ll be time for us to get moving again before long. Another day, perhaps two at the outside.¡±

    Caden¡¯s frown deepened. This had been the longest they had stopped anywhere since they had left Felisen, and already, the idea of setting out again was appealing. His feet had recovered from the road, and now he itched to get back out, to see new things. But it did make for something of a complication.

    ¡°Should I not then? With Alyssia?¡± he asked. ¡°If I¡¯m going to be leaving soon, I don¡¯t want her to think¡­¡±

    Toren shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s the way of things, Caden. Alyssia knows better than to think we¡¯ll be staying here for long. Don¡¯t forget that she¡¯s a noble too, on top of everything else. Elliven might be a bit rustic compared to somewhere like Arsilet, but aristocratic blood still means something. I doubt she¡¯s looking for anything more than a brief amusement for a night or two.¡± The knight arched an eyebrow, peering at Caden intently. ¡°I think the question is if you are okay with that.¡±

    Caden looked down, studying his stew. He thought of the older girl, with her appealing combination of confidence and ability, the taut strength of her slender body, the strong lines of her face, the sound of her laugh, bright and clear, as they fought¡­ He felt himself flushing, and hurriedly picked up his chunk of bread to hide his embarrassment.

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s your answer,¡± Toren observed dryly.

 Chapter 51 - Caden

    The night air held only a mild chill, enough to be comfortable and relaxing after the humid heat that now ruled every day. Caden couldn¡¯t resist humming to himself as he walked down the cobbled central avenue of Kellister.

    Another of the myriad tiny differences between Kellister and Felisen were its streets. While Felisen had grown organically over the course a several generations, houses popping up here and there to form a tangled web of dirt roads throughout the village, Kellister had clearly been planned from its inception, laid out in a careful grid, with the main roads running both north to south and east to west, forming a cobblestoned cross through the middle of the little village.

    He nodded companionably to a passing pair of hunters he had spent a couple days with, letting him practice with the gift of water they shared. The two hunters shared a smirk when they saw the direction he was heading, and Caden flushed. Had everyone in the town known that Alyssia was interested in him? Just thinking of the bartender''s face when Caden had paid a pair of scepters for a bottle of berry wine was mortifying enough.

    Before long, Caden reached the end of the cobbled street, and not long after that, the limit of the last lamp in town. His eyes, strengthened by his awareness boon, rapidly adjusted to the darkness, and as he left the road, he was able to make his way through the fields that ringed the outside of the village with little more hesitation than if it was still midday.

    His strides paused a moment, and he looked more closely at the fields around him, suddenly realizing where he was. In one direction was the path leading east from the village, the same path he and Storyteller had come down not so long ago. In the other direction, he could just make out the looming shadows of the wood, blocking out the stars in a jagged line. He was walking the same path he had run that first morning, chasing down one gnoll only to end up in a shooting contest with another.

    On Caden¡¯s third day in town, Alyssia had actually brought the girl he had saved, a young woman named Heather, to thank him. She was a weaver, a few years older than even Alyssia, much less Caden, and the daughter of one of the local farmers. She was attractive, with a bright smile and pleasantly curvy body, but it had taken a full day, and a passing comment from Alyssia, for him to realize that she had been interested in the young stranger who had saved her.

    Caden sighed. He was, however reluctantly, beginning to come to the conclusion that he was just oblivious to these things. He wondered, idly, if he should try Surging his charm attribute, but quickly discarded the idea. He had the sneaking suspicion that he didn¡¯t want to end up out of stamina just minutes into the night.

    Alyssia was sitting at the edge of the wood, not so far from where he had killed his second gnoll. Her back rested against the trunk of the tree, one long leg stretched out in front of her while the other was bent at the knee. She was idly toying with a few rocks, tossing them in the air and catching them in sequence. Caden knew Alyssia¡¯s gifts didn¡¯t give any sort of awareness boost, and so she would barely be able to see in the starlit night. But her body language was as relaxed as ever, calm and composed.

    ¡°Caden?¡± she asked, once he was close enough for her to make out his silhouette. Her hands moved seemingly without thought, catching the last of the rocks falling back down to her then casting them aside.

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°About time,¡± she chided gently.

    ¡°Did you even come back to town for dinner?¡± Caden took a seat on the ground next to her, unsure of how close he should sit.

    Although he tried to stay conservative, Alyssia promptly wiggled a few inches closer to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body. ¡°Nah. I caught a few rabbits, and I got one of the workers to fry them up for me.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good at least.¡±

    Alyssia chuckled, the sound surprisingly earthy for a noble. ¡°I can take care of myself, you know.¡±

    ¡°I know. But if you didn¡¯t have anything in your stomach, I¡¯d feel bad offering you this,¡± Caden told her, slipping the bottle of fruit wine into her lap.

    Alyssia gasped, the noise soft yet somehow loud enough to nestle in Caden¡¯s brain. She slid a hand along the bottle''s slender neck, and she easily popped the cork free with her earth-boosted strength. The scent of blueberries, sharp and tangy, filled the air around them.

    ¡°Sir Toren recommended it,¡± Caden told her. ¡°It has enough shimmerberries in it that it should be able to punch through even your resilience.¡±

    ¡°Mmm, look at you with the thoughtful gifts. My very own suitor.¡±

    Caden didn¡¯t know how to respond to that¨Cwhich was just as well, as he was thoroughly distracted by the graceful line of Alyssia¡¯s throat as she tipped the bottle back and took a long draw of the wine.

    She lowered the bottle with a satisfied little noise that made Caden shiver, and passed the bottle back to him. The wine was as bright as the summer sun, tingling as it ran over his tongue and down his throat. Storyteller had cautioned him to stay conservative with the potent drink, and he kept his sip shallow.

    As they sat, side-by-side, the two of them watched the moon slide out from behind a cloud. It was full and solid, emitting a brilliant light that washed over the field. Caden couldn¡¯t help a gasp, and he felt Alyssia stiffen next to him with her own amazement.

    ¡°The moon is always so beautiful out here,¡± Alyssia told him, her voice a whisper. ¡°He¡¯s almost as much the gentleman as you, tonight.¡±

    Caden flushed a little, couldn¡¯t help but roll his eyes. ¡°Elder¡­ they even tell that story in the cities?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alyssia told him, her voice bright with laughter. ¡°What? You don¡¯t like The Gentleman Moon?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s so stupid!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a children¡¯s story, Caden.¡±

    Caden huffed. ¡°Tell that to everyone still calling themselves moon-bound or sun-drawn or whatever.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°You sound like my brother,¡± Alyssia observed wryly. ¡°He hated that story too. I suppose I can understand, given your¡­¡± Alyssia paused, looked the teenager up and down, and finished her sentence with, ¡°general demeanor.¡±

    Caden took another sip of the wine, and frustration leaked into his voice as he replied. ¡°Women are expected to be warm, and compassionate, and constant, and loving, men are allowed to be cold and hard and dynamic and all the women love them for it anyways¨Cand those are the only two options. It¡¯s a bad story.¡±

    Alyssia snorted, and slid back slightly, giving her a better angle to look at him. The sudden lack of her closeness brought color to Caden¡¯s cheeks, realizing how loud his complaining had become.

    Still smiling, the older girl reached out and slid the wine bottle out of Caden¡¯s hands. ¡°I think that¡¯s probably enough for you.¡±

    Caden frowned. ¡°Sorry. I just¡­ I don¡¯t like that story.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. Noble knows I dealt with plenty of that attitude growing up too. I¡¯m not exactly the sunniest girl in the world, you know.¡±

    Caden felt a small smile return to his face, fighting through his embarrassment. ¡°No, really?¡±

    Alyssia flashed him a mock hurt look, lifting her hand to chest. Of course, her protest was weakened by the fact that the hand she lifted was still holding the bottle of wine¨Ca situation she quickly took advantage of, taking another long pull. ¡°You know, it¡¯s not all like that anymore.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°In the cities, I mean. The older nobles, like my father, they¡¯re all still stuck on ¡®proper¡¯ solar femininity and lunar masculinity, but it¡¯s not like that for everyone anymore. For a lot of us, the younger generation especially, it just provides useful language to describe ourselves.¡±

    Caden tilted his head, feeling his habitual curiosity overrule the liquor and his disdain. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Alyssia pursed her lips thoughtfully¨Cthen the look quickly morphed into a wicked smile. ¡°Well, like you said before, if you¡¯re interested in women, you¡¯re called sun-bound or sun-drawn, right? Same for men with the moon.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Caden agreed, not sure where she was going with this.

    ¡°Well, what do you call someone who doesn¡¯t have a preference like that? Who can be attracted to anyone, regardless of gender?¡±

    Caden opened his mouth, then closed it thoughtfully. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ equinal? Like the equinox?¡±

    Alyssia rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh that¡¯s a mouthful. Equinal¡­ no.¡±

    ¡°Then what do you call it?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a few terms. Some people like dawn-bound, or dusky, or something like that. Personally, my favorite is twilit.¡±

    ¡°Twilit, I like¡­¡± Caden trailed off. ¡°Wait. Your favorite?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Caden.¡±

    ¡°As in you are-¡±

    ¡°Yes, Caden.¡±

    Caden paused, his eyes widening, and he needed to clarify a little more. ¡°Wait, so you mean-¡±

    ¡°Elder¡¯s name, yes Caden, I don¡¯t have a preference. I am twilit.¡±

    Caden flushed, and couldn¡¯t help the little butterflies that suddenly burst into being in his stomach. He¡­ hadn¡¯t known there were people like that. Well, he knew that he didn¡¯t have a preference, but he had never been very attached to the idea of gender in the first place. Everyone else he had ever met in Felisen though, they had some sort of preference, and after Brian was so uncomfortable with him, he never thought¡­

    ¡°There¡¯s a good one I heard for someone like you, too.¡±

    Caden¡¯s chain of thought came to a jangling halt at those words. ¡°S-someone like me?¡± he asked, shocked to hear his voice trembling.

    ¡°Eclipsed, they call it.¡± Alyssia smiled as she explained. ¡°Like an eclipse, when the sun lights up the moon or the moon blocks out the sun. When one gender blocks out another.¡±

    Caden deflated. ¡°Oh¡­ I see.¡±

    Alyssia frowned, clearly confused by his reaction. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s just not like that for me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Alyssia exclaimed. ¡°I just thought¡­ I mean, I saw when you got here, but then you were dressing like that¡­¡±

    ¡°I just do that sometimes,¡± Caden told her with a diffident shrug. ¡°Some days, I feel¡­ well, sunny. Other days I¡¯m as much a full moon as he is tonight.¡± He tilted his chin up at the moon, still staring down from overhead. ¡°And some days I¡¯m not much of either.¡±

    Alyssia''s face darkened, and Caden¡¯s mood sank a little further. He should¡¯ve known better than to think-

    ¡°Celestial!¡±

    Caden looked at the girl in shock. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Celestial. Like, a celestial body, but not the sun or the moon. Starry or comet are common names too.¡±

    Caden felt his face go pale, his eyes wide. ¡°Th-there¡¯s a word for that?¡±

    ¡°Mhmmm.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s other people? Like me? Who have a word for¡­ for us?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Caden blinked at Alyssia, then looked back to the moon. His mouth moved, but he couldn¡¯t quite manage a reply. Celestial. There was a word that felt¡­ felt right. Celestial. Not the sun or the moon, but something else. Something just as great, but different.

    ¡°Well.¡± What voice he finally managed was feeble. ¡°I¡¯m celestial. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s big.¡±

    ¡°You never knew?¡± Alyssia asked. Her voice was gentle, and close, and Caden was startled to find her sitting right next to him again, her side pressed against him.

    ¡°I just¡­ I never met anyone like me. The people I grew up with sort of accepted it, because I was the chief hunter¡¯s kid¡­ but I still¨C¡± Caden¡¯ voice cracked, remembering his pain, her pain, their pain when Brian hadn¡¯t wanted them anymore.

    Alyssia''s fingers, long and strong, curled around Caden¡¯s. ¡°There was someone you liked?¡±

    ¡°Yes. A boy.¡± Caden¡¯s voice cracked again on the last word, and he tightened his jaw. ¡°A sun-drawn boy.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well. His loss, then.¡±

    Caden looked up, surprised by the sudden brightness in her tone¨Cthen her lips met his. He stiffened in surprise for a moment, then relaxed, pressing himself closer to her. Her smell filled his nostrils, like quenching iron and fertile soil and summer sweat. She tasted of the blueberry wine that had fallen from her fingers, forgotten, and the kiss made his lips tingle in a way the wine never had.

    He was celestial. For the first time, he had a word he could identify with. He knew what he was, who he was. He, they, felt whole, and seen, and desired, and the night melted into a moon-shrouded dream that tasted like blueberries and smelled like a graceful fight.

 Chapter 52 - Oliver

    The going had been slow since the storm hit. The caravan could only move as fast as its slowest wagon, so with one wagon damaged, the rest had been forced to a pace little better than walking. Hugo¡¯s initial estimate of two weeks to Jellis quickly proved optimistic, and nine days in, they were perhaps halfway to the town that anchored the bottom of the Flax Road.

    Worse was that the tedium of the previous days had vanished, consumed by a consistent, simmering anxiety. Oliver had reluctantly concluded, after a few days of research, that it was incredibly unlikely that the specter had been acting alone. The insubstantial breed of undead were drawn to concentrated life magic, which had likely caused its focus on Rose during their confrontation. According to the Umbral Lexicon, this behavior generally got specters killed quickly, if not by healers like Rose, then by magical beasts that had become enriched by life magic over a prolonged lifetime.

    Most likely, Oliver decided, the specter was being controlled by a more powerful, or at least more intelligent, form of undead. With the viciousness of the storm that had hit them that night, it may have been pure happenstance that led the outsider to their caravan, but Oliver was convinced that another attack was likely, and had persuaded Hugo and the warden recruits that it was better to be prepared than surprised.

    As such, the three young gifted had taken to spending shifts walking along the caravan, keeping an eye out for any possible threats, be they monsters, undead, or outlaws. This had the unfortunate side effect of Oliver spending a lot more time stuck in their little wagon with Beryl. He had gotten along well enough with the larger, outspoken girl when they were in Correntry, training together and sharing thoughts on the strengths and weaknesses of each other''s techniques, but in the weeks they had been on the road, their relationship had steadily soured, for reasons Oliver wasn¡¯t entirely sure of.

    Most of the questions he directed at her earned little more than a grunt in reply, and his attempts to pull her into conversation had proven completely unsuccessful, with the muscular girl either ignoring him or shooting him down with some sneering comment.

    Finally, the tension had grown too thick for Oliver. With Beryl out on her turn of what the trio had taken to calling ¡°caretaking duty,¡± Oliver had carefully approached Rose until he was sitting on the floor of the wagon directly behind the driver¡¯s bench. Despite her frail appearance, the animist had proven as skilled at driving their wagon as Beryl, a remnant of their childhood on the road, and she gamely directed the two large draft goats pulling their wagon.

    ¡°Hey Rose?¡±

    ¡°Oh, hey Oli,¡± Rose greeted him with a yawn, her customary cheer dampened by the same exhaustion he felt. ¡°Done with reading already?¡±

    Oliver sighed. ¡°I think I¡¯m almost done with the journal, but the Lexicon is¡­ thick. Even for me.¡±

    Rose snorted, the noise indelicate from her heart-shaped face.

    ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± he ventured cautiously.

    Rose turned to face him, some sort of interest sparking on her face, more than he would¡¯ve expected. ¡°Sure? What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°I just¡­ Do you know what¡¯s going on with Beryl lately? It¡¯s like she doesn¡¯t want anything to do with me. I don¡¯t know what I did wrong.¡±

    Rose sighed and looked almost put out for a second, before she turned back to the draft team. ¡°It¡¯s nothing you did,¡± Rose told him, her voice vaguely annoyed. Oliver couldn¡¯t help wondering if she had been getting the cold-shoulder from the brawny brawler too.

    ¡°Then what is her problem lately?¡±

    Rose stayed facing forward, and from his position behind her, Oliver couldn¡¯t make out the expression on her face as she spoke. ¡°You know we¡¯ve been together for most of our lives, right?¡±

    Oliver nodded, then realized that she would be just as unable to see him. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ at some point, Beryl got it in her head that she had¡­ other feelings for me.¡±

    ¡°Other feelings?¡±

    ¡°Romantic feelings.¡±

    Oliver blinked in surprise. ¡°Wait¡­ you don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve just¡­ I don¡¯t know, I always assumed that you two were, like, together together.¡±

    Rose turned in her seat again, arching an incredulous eyebrow at him. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°I mean, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± There was a surprising little beat of heat in her voice Oliver didn¡¯t understand.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re just always together. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you apart.¡±

    ¡°You mean like right now?¡± Rose mimed looking around, as if she expected Beryl to suddenly be sitting next to her.

    Oliver flushed. ¡°You know what I mean! When we were in the city, or training, or going out, you two were always just together. And you¡¯re kind of¡­ I don¡¯t know, casual with her? Relaxed? I just¡­¡± Oliver trailed off, realizing that he really didn¡¯t have any reason to think they were together. He had never even seen them kiss. He had just sort of, ¡°...assumed.¡±

    The justification must¡¯ve seemed about as lame to Rose as it did to him, based on the pinched look she gave him. ¡°We¡¯ve been friends for our entire lives. That¡¯s how people are around their friends, Oli.¡±

    Oliver found himself at a loss on how to respond to that, and Rose¡¯s face softened a little as she studied him. ¡°Beryl is like a sister to me,¡± she explained in a more even voice. ¡°But that¡¯s all¨Cno matter how much she wishes otherwise. I guess¡­ I¡¯m just more moon-bound than she is.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I could understand why that would put her in a negative mood,¡± Oliver admitted, ¡°but I still don¡¯t get why she needs to take it out on me!¡±

    Rose turned back to him, her freckled cheeks flushing red with a look of intense irritation. ¡°Oh Primal, you¡¯re an idiot.¡± She threw down the reins of the draft goats, and snapped at him, ¡°I¡¯m taking my shift early.¡±

    In a gust of wind, she was gone, launched off towards Beryl, and Oliver was left sitting in the wagon, flustered and confused. ¡°Now what did I do?¡± Oliver paused, looking at the slack reins even as the draft team began slowing to a stop, no longer being urged forward.

    ¡°Rose!¡± Oliver called after her, panicked. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to drive the wagon!¡±

    #

    With both wardens-in-training as upset with him as they apparently were with each other, their wagon quickly became overfull of tension and sullen silences. Oliver found the opportunity whenever he could to take extra guard shifts, but the two girls seemed no more enthused to be alone with each other than they were to be with him.

    So the following afternoon found Oliver walking rearguard for the caravan, while Rose led from the front of the wagon train and Beryl drove their wagon by herself. For lack of anything else to do¨Cdespite his best attempts, he had found reading while walking to be a dangerous endeavor¨COliver reviewed his gifts and the progress they had made since leaving Correntry.

    Gift of the Vanguard

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 23%

    Gift of Wind

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 28%

    The fight with the specter, however brief it had been, had proven beneficial for Oliver¡¯s slowly growing gifts. His gift of the vanguard gained experience from earnest, dangerous combat, as the specter had been the most genuine threat he had encountered since his first days with Adeline, when they had gone up against that tribe of kobolds.

    Similarly, his gift of wind had grown from experiencing the savage storm, as Rose had promised. The blessing¡¯s growth condition was significantly more vague than the gift of the vanguard¡¯s, but the gift provided Oliver some innate understanding of how to strengthen it. Not only had facing down the powerful wind conditions of the storm provided experience by himself, Oliver had nearly died in the midst of it, buffeted by the winds while he fought the specter. The near death experience had provided a full nine percent boost to his experience.

    Still, he was frustrated with his growth, or lack thereof. He knew that for an active sentinel, facing frequent danger in the Wastes, Novice level was generally considered to take a little less than a year, and as he approached three months since he had received his gifts, he was more or less on track. But he had hoped for more. Already, he could feel his own skills stagnating. He had eked out every advantage he could think of from the combination of his two gifts, and he fancied he was likely fighting close to the peak skill level for a Novice.

    Still, he itched to improve, to make the next jump, to see what complications and new options his gift abilities would provide him with at Apprentice level. While he understood the importance of the mission Adeline had given him, he couldn¡¯t help but be frustrated at how much it had stalled his growth, how much time he was wasting on the stupid dusty road when he could be training.

    Of course, thinking of Adeline only made him even more wistful.

    Oliver had never considered himself a lonely person, but looking back, he had never really felt much need to seek out companionship. He got on well enough with Alyssia and Olan, his older siblings, but their age differences and the paths their father had set for them had always kept a space between the three of them. There were other noble children close to his age, who he grew up taking lessons and socializing with, but those were formal relationships, predicated on codes of conduct and political advantage. As a third child of a low-ranking house, Oliver¡¯s only real choice for friendship would¡¯ve been to try to attach himself to a higher-ranking noble, someone like Allid, and while his father had often tried to push him to do just that, he had always resisted it.

    Adeline had been different. Despite their differences in age, experience, power, and rank, Adeline had always treated him as more than an obligation. She had been interested in him and what he had to say, and had pushed him outside of the comfort zone he had built up over sixteen years of introversion. He had complained about being ¡°forced¡± to go out for drinks or to explore Correntry, but she had never had to push him too hard.

    There was more to her wistfulness than his crush on her. The simple truth, which Oliver could only see looking back after a month away from her, was that Adeline was his first friend. In many ways, his only friend.

    Except for Rose and Beryl. Circumstances had thrown them together as Adeline and Farris became involved, but the two girls hadn¡¯t treated him like the other fleeting acquaintances he had made in Correntry¡¯s High Court. They had asked about his interests, joked around with him, treated him like a friend more than a social obligation. They had practiced together, learned from each other, and been sent on this mission with only each other to rely on.

    And Oliver had spent the whole time angsting over things he couldn¡¯t change. About his perceived views of his companions, and his inability to be what he thought they wanted¡­Still walking, Oliver¡¯s eyes trailed down to his travel cloak, to the strategically placed loops and fasteners Adeline had shown him, but that he had never used.

    Rose and Beryl had shared much of themselves with him. They told him about their greatest pains, the loss of their family, their time on their own, their coming of age and adoption by Farris. He had, in Beryl¡¯s words, shared tit for tat, but there was still so much he hadn¡¯t told them. So much he hadn¡¯t told anyone, so much he had barely admitted to himself.

    Perhaps it was time that he-

    ¡°ATTACK! TO THE FRONT!¡±

 Chapter 53 - Oliver

    Oliver¡¯s legs were moving before he fully processed Hugo¡¯s cry, bright steel leaping into his hands without a thought. Beryl had sprung into motion ahead of him, carrying her thick oaken staff with the energy of someone ready to vent her frustrations on a willing target. Despite her lead, Oliver¡¯s speed let him quickly catch up with the large girl. As the wardens often spent time on jobs like this, playing the role of simple travelers to lure in predators, they trained in the use of innocuous weapons, and Beryl¡¯s staff, a knobbly branch of dark oak somewhere between walking stick and cudgel, was at much a threat in her hands as Oliver¡¯s runeblade was in his.

    He heard odd, wet impacts and cries of pain as he approached the front of the caravan, and quickly took in the tableau in front of him. Hugo¡¯s porters, a pair of burly men clumsily wielding crude hammers, were attempting to swat several darting shapes out of the sky, even as the diminutive attackers rained down small projectiles Oliver couldn¡¯t quite make out. Rather than assist them, Rose was cautiously facing the wooded hills to the left of the highroad, her staff lifted in a ready position.

    ¡°Beryl!¡± Rose¡¯s voice was like a clarion, clear even over the tumult of the fight. While Oliver surveyed the scene, the other warden was already leaping into battle, having evidently caught sight of whatever her friend was facing off against.

    A sharp twang turned Oliver¡¯s head, and he saw Hugo standing in the driver¡¯s seat of the frontmost wagon, a sturdy and well-maintained crossbow in hand. The merchant had successfully managed to shoot one of the flying monsters out of the air, and it proved to be a bright blue bird, like a sparrow, but larger than both of Oli¡¯s fists put together.

    A squall sparrow, some absent part of his brain noted. He had expected, and hoped, that this attack would prove to be whatever force was behind the specter, but he was disappointed to realize that the attackers were just storm monsters, animals who had been caught up in and transformed by the tumultuous magic of the storm that had hit the week before. Not that they were any less dangerous for that. The sparrows were infused with water and air aspected magic, giving them the raindrop projectile attacks they were using on Hugo¡¯s men.

    Oliver had only just put that together when a resounding crack echoed along the caravan, the sound loud enough to stagger Oliver and the others, and to momentarily scatter the small swarm of magical sparrows.

    Rose and Beryl were facing off against another storm monster, a stag with a coat of bright yellow fur and sparks dancing along its rack of jagged antlers. Another monster he recognized from his recent studies, the stormstrike stag lowered its head and let loose another booming bolt of lightning, this time succeeding in destroying the earthen barrier Beryl had barely raised in time to stop its first attack.

    Rose quickly chanted her fastest healing spell, closing the numerous cuts Beryl had taken from her own shattered defense. Once she was healed, Beryl charged forward, bellowing in rage as she closed on the monster.

    It wasn¡¯t a good match up, Oliver quickly realized. The stag was a ranged threat, and it was nimble enough to dodge away as Beryl approached it, while Rose¡¯s desperate healing couldn¡¯t possibly keep up with the damage the monster could deal. Her combat heal was her fastest spell, but it was neither as effective nor as efficient as the slower long-term healing she had used on him during the specter fight.

    One thing at a time, Oliver scolded himself. They can handle themselves for a few moments. He had already wasted too much time analyzing the situation- the squall sparrows were flocking together again, condensing the water that would allow a fresh barrage of projectiles. Oliver sprang forward before they could, throwing out his free-hand and releasing a sudden whirlwind at the minor monsters.

    [Gust Blast] - Active, Attack - Manifest a gust of wind straight in front of you. Inflicts little direct damage, but can disorient or physically move enemies. Moderate quintessence cost.

    ¡°Get back!¡± he growled at the laborers. Their clumsy swipes would only get in his way and distract him against agile, airborne enemies like these. He quickly snapped at Hugo, ¡°Take a shot if you have one, but stay behind me, and don¡¯t waste your ammo during any of my gusts.¡±

    ¡°Aye lad,¡± Hugo replied. The stout, obsequious little man had impressed Oliver little in their time together, but he held his position firmly enough, and kept his crossbow braced against his shoulder, ready to fire.

    The sparrows had enough air magic of their own to not be thrown around too wildly by the column of spinning wind, but it had done its job in dispersing the fog of water magic that would allow them to manifest their attacks. Even as they began to gather more power together, Oliver made a pair of short, quick swipes with his sword, activating his augment as he did.

    [Wind Slash] - Wind, Vanguard - Active, Attack - Use a bladed weapon to make a ranged attack delivered through hardened air. Damage and quintessence cost depend on the weapon used to make the attack.

    The cuts sliced straight through one of the birds, and clipped the wing off another, sending it spiraling to the ground. Hugo caught another with his crossbow, but that still left five more of the little monsters, and Oliver braced himself, lifting an arm to cover his face as the hardened water bullets began to rain down on him. One projectile snapped against the exposed skin of his free hand with a feeling like a hammer slammed into his palm, but the rest hit his arming jacket with little more than dull thuds and a brief, light-headed feeling of dipping focus, as his vanguard gift muffled the impacts.

    [Reinforced Defense] - Triggered, Defense - When blocking an attack, your equipment is treated as one tier of potency higher. Each time this is triggered, there is a minor focus cost.

    In his first real fight alongside Adeline, she had scolded Oliver about his conservative fighting style. He had tried too hard to avoid damage, afraid to rely on his defensive ability. That scathing critique had been a constant nagging in the back of Oli¡¯s skull as he trained, and only now did he begin to understand what Adeline had really meant.

    Oliver was a cautious person by nature. Where Beryl had jumped straight in the fray, throwing her might against the most dangerous foe available, Oliver had taken critical moments to get a full grasp of the fight before him. He had used his wind gift to disrupt his enemies, buying valuable time and weakening the attacks that finally did come at him. But that time had paid off, and now he had learned something critical: how long it took the squall sparrows to charge their rain bullets.

    The moment the thudding projectiles ceased, Oliver lowered his hand in a firm gesture, ignoring the pain and activating Gust Blast again, further delaying the sparrows. He quickly followed that up with another pair of Wind Slashes, taking out two more of the monsters, then invoked another whirlwind with his Gust Blast, buying him the time for another quick Wind Slash. Though it drained his quintessence pool to the very bottom, the sequenced abilities kept the minor monsters from gathering even one more attack before the last of them fell to the ground, still.

    [Gift of the Vanguard] experienced gained

    Experience: 27%

    [Gift of Wind] experienced gained

    Experience: 35%

    ¡°By the Primal¡­¡± Hugo swore quietly.

    Oliver didn¡¯t acknowledge the stunned merchant. Instead, he immediately whirled on the fight that was still ongoing. It looked like Beryl had managed a couple hits with her Stone Toss, but they were inconsequential compared to the pair of gouging wounds the brawny girl had sustained. Only a constant outpouring of healing kept the young warden standing, and that same effort was keeping Rose from contributing her own attacks.

    Oliver ran up to the petite warden, watching the stag dart and jump around Beryl¡¯s heavy strikes, which never came close to its hide. With one arm dangling, injured, she was reduced to using her single remaining hand to make her attacks, leaving them weak and clumsy.

    ¡°Can you heal her arm enough to manage one more attack?¡± he asked Rose.

    The petite girl gave him an alarmed look. ¡°Maybe, but it will bottom out my mana, and there¡¯s no way she can take another hit even if I do.¡±

    ¡°Do it,¡± Oliver barked, already moving. He had noticed the way the stag was lining up, clearly preparing to gore Beryl with its jagged antlers.

    ¡°Double back!¡± he called to the muscular girl.

    Beryl looked at him in surprise¨Cbut did just that, taking a quick pair of steps backward, allowing Oliver to leap into the same space she had occupied even as the stag charged forward, more lightning dancing between the points of its antlers.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    For the first time since he had acquired the ability, Oliver found the limits of Reinforced Defense. As he slid his blade into a parry, lifting the antlers upwards while he dipped low, the arcing energy the stormstrike stag had imbued into its attack ran through his blade and into his sword arm, burning and making his muscles jump and tense with electric agony.

    Oliver felt his grip on his sword tighten spasmodically as the lightning danced through his muscles, but he gritted his teeth and turned, activating his special attack even as he pulled the blade back down in a sudden slash, the blistering boom of thunder threatening to split his skull.

    [Reckless Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Major stamina cost.

    Immediately, spots danced in his vision, the stamina loss combined with the damage he had already taken reaching a crescendo. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, but he was pleased to see what lay in the packed dirt at his side: a jagged, lightning bolt-shaped antler, sheared free by his special attack.

    The stag reared back with a keening cry, exposing the pale fur of its underbelly, just in time for Beryl to slam her staff into it. Not just that, her thick cudgel now bore a massive rock bound to its end, turning it into an immense earthen hammer, an attack Oliver had never seen from the warden recruit before. Even in pain, the lightning-aspected deer managed to leap back, faster than seemed possible, narrowly dodging the attack. It fell back to all fours, and turned to leap away¨Conly for an invisible wave of force from Oli¡¯s runeblade, the last tool in his arsenal, to catch it midair.

    No matter how fast the creature was, it couldn''t dodge two attacks at once. The force bolt hit it perfectly, just as it left the ground and could no longer change direction, and knocked it straight down to Beryl¡¯s descending hammer. No doubt combined with some sort of brawler special attack, the improvised stone hammer crushed the monster to the ground with the audible snap of breaking bones.

    [Gift of the Vanguard] experienced gained

    Experience: 36%

    [Gift of Wind] experienced gained

    Experience: 41%

    Oliver panted for breath, the injuries of the fight catching up with him. He felt sure that the sparrows had dislocated at least one of his fingers, if not broken it entirely, and his entire body ached from the redirected lightning in the attack he had parried. His head throbbed, and he heard nothing other than a loud ringing in his ears. Beryl seemed in little better shape, sagging in place with only her staff to hold her up.

    By the time he saw Rose hurrying forwards with potions in hand, Oliver¡¯s body decided that maybe a quick nap was the best thing for him at the moment.

    #

    When he awoke, the wagon was moving underneath him, the late afternoon sunlight forcing its way through the heavy canvas awning overhead. He blinked a couple times, muttering in confusion, then made the mistake of trying to move his left hand. Instantly, silvery pain shot through his arm, forcing out a groan.

    ¡°Stop that!¡± Rose scolded him. Oliver couldn¡¯t see her from his position, and any attempt to sit up promptly told him that his efforts were not worth the pain.

    ¡°S¡¯rry¡­¡± he slurred.

    ¡°Stop trying to talk, idiot!¡± she told him sharply, her voice seeming louder this time. Had she turned towards him? ¡°I need to wait for my mana to recover, and with both of you knocked out, I have to drive the wagon. So you need to just hold still until we stop for the night!¡±

    ¡°B-Behl?¡±

    ¡°Beryl got herself hurt even worse than you, I already used what potions we had, healing her and refilling my mana enough to keep her alive.¡±

    Well. That explained his hand at least. He knew the damage from the electricity running through his body would be more thorough than a simple potion could fix, but one would¡¯ve at least put his hand back into shape.

    ¡°Ishe arigh?¡±

    ¡°She hasn¡¯t woken up yet.¡± Even through his pain, Oliver could hear the worry in the girl¡¯s voice. ¡°Now stop trying to talk! If you shred your muscles, it¡¯s going to be that much harder to put you back together.¡±

    ¡°Mmngh.¡±

    ¡°Go to sleep, Oli. As long as Beryl¡¯s stable tonight, I¡¯ll get you healed.¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡± Oliver had to admit, another nap did sound like a good idea. But he had more questions¨Chow had the rest of the caravan come out? Did they catch any sight of undead? Had Hugo offered anything to help heal them?

    Somewhere between thinking of the questions and opening his mouth, everything went dark again.

    #

    When he awoke again, it was to a refreshing feeling running through his body. Something like a warm bath, a cool breeze on a summer night, and the searing hot first sip of a new tea blend all at once. And underneath the sensation, Oliver couldn¡¯t feel his pain anymore. His scorched muscles no longer protested every movement, and moving his fingers no longer shot pain through his entire being.

    Pleased, he let out a sigh and went to sit up¨Cand immediately, strong hands clenched his shoulders and forced him back down.

    ¡°Stay still, lad,¡± an unfamiliar masculine voice growled. Panic shot through Oliver at the gruff words, interrupting the serenity flowing through him, but the man quickly explained, ¡°the lady said you¡¯re not to move til she¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°Rose?¡± Oliver asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s still working on you.¡±

    Oliver tried to force his eyes open. It was hard, like forcing himself awake in the middle of the night. His body begged for more rest, to bathe in the serenity of Rose¡¯s healing magic, but he bulled through and forced his eyes open.

    It was night now. He was laying on the ground, with scant foliage barely obscuring the star-strewn sky overhead. However, between him and the leaves above ran several bright streams of bluish-green light. They flowed in from five equidistant points, two to either side of his shoulder, two more by his hips, and one between his feet.

    Kneeling above his head, hands braced on his shoulders, Oliver saw a figure he recognized as one of Hugo¡¯s two laborers. The man gave him a rough, reassuring smile and a small nod of respect.

    That mystery answered, Oliver looked down, lifting his head just enough to see past his own toes, and saw Rose kneeling there, her head bowed and fingers knitted together into some sort of intricate pattern in front of him. The air around her glowed with the same turquoise light that was streaming down around him.

    The girl was performing some sort of healing, but it was unlike any spell he had ever seen before, an order of magnitude more elaborate than even the slow, thorough healing he had seen her use before. Reassured, Oliver let himself relax back onto the ground, and waited for Rose to finish.

    He didn¡¯t have too much longer to go. Slowly, the calming presence of the healing magic began to recede, and Rose told him, ¡°I¡¯m done. You can get up now.¡± Her voice was limp, exhausted.

    Oliver sat up, surprised to not feel any lingering pain or discomfort. Whatever it was Rose had done, it had healed him more thoroughly than he could¡¯ve hoped for, but it was obvious the effort had left the young warden exhausted.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he told her, as earnestly as he could manage.

    The pale girl managed a tired smile in return. ¡°I suppose you earned it.¡± Her eyes drifted to the large man kneeling behind Oliver, and she told him, ¡°Thank you Derrik, I think we¡¯re all set now.¡±

    The man replied with a dry grunt and got to his own feet. ¡°Aye aye, I¡¯ll give you some space then.¡± He paused to incline his head to Oliver. ¡°That was some fighting lad, but perhaps put some thought into not running your young lady here so ragged next time.¡±

    ¡°I am not his-¡±

    ¡°I did not-¡±

    The man held up both of his hands at the simultaneous outbursts, and quickly excused himself. ¡°Of course, of course. My respect to both of you,¡± he told them as he quickly fled, chuckling to himself as he left.

    Oliver awkwardly cleared his throat, while Rose seemed intent on studying the stars overhead rather than him. ¡°Beryl?¡± he finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

    ¡°Sleeping,¡± Rose told him with a little smile. ¡°She was worse off than you, so she got healed last night. Of course, she still tried to soldier through all day, but the moment we called it for the night, she passed out.¡±

    Oliver snorted an amused breath out of his nose. ¡°Hence Derrik?¡±

    Rose¡¯s cheeks flushed just a tad, and an impish smile brightened her face. ¡°Well, I knew you were going to try to get up as soon as you woke up, and I certainly was not going to be the one holding you down.¡±

    Oliver grinned. The cessation of pain was like a drug on its own, but even more intoxicating was the end of the tension that had defined their past few days. He looked to each side of him, noticing for the first time the intricate design dug into the surrounding dirt. The essential shape was a circle with a five pointed star contained within, but each segment created by the star design held another symbol, all unfamiliar to him.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Oliver asked, gesturing at the engraving. ¡°Is this how you healed me so well?¡±

    Rose responded with a tinkling little giggle, and she nodded in reply. ¡°It¡¯s called an array. It serves as a catalyst for my ritual spell.¡±

    ¡°Ritual spell?¡±

    Rose rolled her bright green eyes, still laughing to herself. ¡°Leave it to you to be asking questions like this mere minutes after being healed from the brink of death.¡±

    Oliver arched a speculative eyebrow. ¡°¡®Brink of death,¡¯ was it?¡±

    Rose¡¯s smile turned into an expression imperious enough to give any noble a run for their scepters. ¡°Indeed. I saved your life.¡±

    ¡°Mhmmmm.¡±

    ¡°I did!¡±

    ¡°I know, I just agreed with you!¡±

    The petite girl narrowed her eyes, but the expression didn¡¯t hide the laughter dancing in them. ¡°You can heal yourself next time.¡±

 Chapter 54 - Allana

    ¡°Once I got some health potions in him, I managed to get him moving, but only barely. I could tell something was wrong so I just tried to get him here as fast as I could.¡± Allana shifted uncomfortably, the plush seats in Geoffrey¡¯s office not enough to ease her anxiety.

    Geoffrey had stayed quiet as Allana hurriedly retold the tale of their encounter in the tunnels underneath Rainbow Square, and after she finished, he stayed quiet, his dark golden eyes studying her, for a long time. Allana knew better than to interrupt the master assassin while he was thinking, and instead poured herself a glass of gloam to sip on, needing something, anything, to do with her hands.

    After several vials of healing potions, Tenebres had barely managed to make it back to Geoffrey¡¯s home before he passed out again. Though alarmed at first, the assassin had inspected him, and concluded that the darkmaw¡¯s bite must have contained a stamina-based poison. He had simply tipped a soft-green restoration poison into the boy¡¯s mouth, strong enough to ensure the poison wouldn¡¯t kill him, then announced that all he needed now was rest, so that his drained attribute could recover. The two had carried him to the house¡¯s plush lounge and laid him on a soft couch, then retreated to Geoffrey¡¯s study so that Allana could fill him in.

    One silent minute after another ticked by as Geoffrey seemed to ponder Allana¡¯s words. The whole time, Allana kept fidgeting, the liquor just as incapable of calming her down as the comfort of Geoffrey¡¯s manor. Despite herself, she kept shooting nervous looks at the office¡¯s door, towards the lounge across the hall.

    Finally, Geoffrey spoke. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I can¡¯t send you anywhere without something like this happening.¡±

    Allana slammed her empty glass down on Geoffrey¡¯s desk, affronted. ¡°It¡¯s not like that!¡±

    ¡°Peace, Allana, peace. It was a simple observation. Don¡¯t add anything else to it.¡±

    The wraith glared at Geoffrey for a moment, before sighing and sitting back. She really needed to get a better handle on herself, before she said something to her patron that couldn¡¯t be fixed. She had only barely managed to put things back together with Tenebres after her previous outburst, and she doubted Geoffrey would be as accommodating. But¡­ she just wasn¡¯t used to concern for others mixing with her already violent temper.

    Geoffrey continued, ¡°I had a mentor, once, who would¡¯ve seen your endless escapades as signs of something more¡­¡± The man trailed off thoughtfully, his eyes distant.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Allana asked, doing everything she could to keep the lingering heat of her frustration out of her voice.

    The assassin took a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled in a great rush, shaking his head. ¡°Nothing. Just lost in memories, I suppose. I had heard of darkmaws displaying this ability to adapt the traits of the beings they feast upon, but I¡¯ve never seen it in person before, even after years in Emeston. And for the two of you, at your level, to have even survived an encounter, much less to have killed it¡­ it¡¯s quite remarkable.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°When I sent you on this job, I believed you to be facing two mediocre lesser monsters, both in the lower reaches of that rank. From your description, however, I suspect that the creature you killed had actually reached the high end of lesser rank. Had it succeeded in killing either of you, it would likely have reached moderate rank, and I am one of only a handful of individuals in Lowrun who would¡¯ve stood a chance against such a beast.¡±

    Allana blinked in surprise. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. It is, in fact, difficult to estimate how many lives you and Tenebres may have saved tonight.¡± A warm, genuine smile spread across the man¡¯s face, framed by his tidy goatee, the look startling in its simple sincerity. ¡°I¡¯m extremely proud to call both of you my students.¡±

    Allana fidgeted in place, unsure of how to respond to the praise. Telik had always simply expected her to excel. Nothing she did earned her more than grudging acknowledgement of her success. ¡°Then¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes. The past is behind us.¡± Geoffrey shook his head with a futile chuckle. ¡°I had hoped, when Telik asked me to train you, that you¡¯d prove an able student, but still¡­ First Algus, now this spider-rat¡­¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t have done either without Tenebres,¡± Allana added in a desperate attempt to deflect the man¡¯s praise.

    ¡°Yes, our curious little wraith¡­¡± Geoffrey¡¯s eyes drifted to one side of his study, towards the room where he had left the sleeping boy. ¡°What did you think of his performance today?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s lucky to not be dead,¡± Allana said frankly. ¡°That bit at the end though¡­¡±

    Allana¡¯s words drifted off as she remembered the exchange. It had been dark in the cavern, and Allana had a hard time making out details¨Cbut she had heard the piteous squeal of a dying rat, and had watched as Tenebres somehow managed to fight off the abominable vermin, moving with a strength and surety foreign to the slender boy. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him move like that before.¡±

    ¡°Very odd indeed. And he said it was from the void gift?¡±

    Allana nodded. ¡°He didn¡¯t explain any more than that before he passed out. You know how reluctant he is to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°He can be quite reticent where that gift is concerned. But¡­¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s limiting himself too much,¡± Allana agreed, already seeing where her teacher¡¯s thoughts were going. ¡°If he had whatever ability that was he used against the darkmaw, he should¡¯ve been using it the whole time, not saving it for when he was about to die.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s only one ability,¡± Geoffrey interjected, twirling one of his many bejeweled golden rings around a finger as he mused. ¡°We know he has this augment, the blood magic that he almost killed himself with, and this buff ability, but he should have another ability from his void gift as well, one he didn¡¯t use even in the face of death.¡± He gave Allana a direct look, making clear what he was suggesting.

    She shifted uncomfortably under that look. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ll see what I can do to get more out of him¡­ but I won¡¯t lie to him. Why is this so important?¡±

    ¡°You saw him out there, Allana. The boy¡¯s smart. Brilliant, even. But he¡¯s fighting with only one gift. If he keeps that up, he¡¯s going to get himself killed¨Cand maybe you with him.¡±

    #

    Tenebres stirred a little as Allana slipped into the assassin¡¯s lounge, a room of comfortable furniture and, of course, a well-stocked bar, all arranged around a tidy fireplace. Simple pieces of artifice kept the fire burning steadily and funneled smoke through the house¡¯s little chimney, keeping the room comfortably warm, softly lit, and faintly fragrant without becoming smoky.

    ¡°Lana?¡± he asked, blinking bleary eyes. ¡°Where ¡®m I?¡±

    Allana was surprised by the warmth that filled her voice when she replied. ¡°Geoffrey¡¯s. Turns out he has a cozy little sitting room he never showed us.¡±

    Tenebres nodded, the motion small, weak. ¡°Right. I ¡®member that now¡­¡± he smacked his lips, running his tongue over them. His mouth must¡¯ve been dry. ¡°How long¡¯ve I been out?¡±

    ¡°Only a few hours. I just got back from an errand and came in to check on you.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Oh.¡± A small smile curled Tenebres¡¯s lips, but he clearly lacked the energy for any real banter. ¡°Water?¡±

    ¡°Here.¡± Allana took a glass they had left on the low table next to the couch, and helped Tenebres sit up enough to take a few little sips. His slender body was heavy and limp in her arms, his gray skin even paler than usual.

    ¡°Wha¡¯s wrong with me?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Between the monster and your magic, you got pretty beat up. It had some sort of poison, too, which must¡¯ve sapped your stamina.¡±

    ¡°So tha¡¯s why I¡¯m so sleepy¡­¡± Tenebres muttered. Without seeming to notice it, he slid back down from his half-sitting position, his eyes drifting closed. ¡°Lana?¡± His eyes didn¡¯t even flicker when he said her name.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± she told him.

    ¡°Tha¡¯s good¡­ am I gonna die?¡±

    Allana blew a breath out her nose, and tried to keep her voice from showing the tears that were suddenly burning in her eyes. ¡°No, Seo. You¡¯re not going to die.¡±

    That sleepy half-smile crawled across his lips again. ¡°Tha¡¯s good then.¡±

    Allana chewed her bottom lip, filled with a sense of concern she had never quite experienced before. While she had feared for her own life plenty of times, she had never had to fret about losing someone she cared about¨Cmostly because she hadn¡¯t really ever cared about someone else in the first place.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be right here. You¡¯ll be okay.¡±

    Tenebres didn¡¯t respond, seeming to fall back asleep. His breathing was shallow, but steady.

    Anxiety chewed away at Allana¡¯s guts. She knew Geoffrey was probably right. While stamina poison sapped away the body¡¯s energy, it was extremely rare for it to kill. Tenebres would¡¯ve needed a massive dose to rob him of the vital stamina he needed to keep his heart and lungs working, and the fact that he had been awake long enough for Geoffrey to get the restoration potions meant that he should be fine.

    But still, Allana found herself furiously, irrationally, afraid. Afraid that she had lied to him, afraid that the darkmaw¡¯s poison was stronger than they had thought, afraid that Tenebres would never wake up¡­

    Allana had lost so much in her life, but for the first time, she realized that she had someone she didn¡¯t want to lose, and that terrified her.

    So she stayed on the floor next to the couch, and gently slid her hand into Tenebres¡¯s, where she could feel the warmth of his continued life, and would be able to tell if anything else happened to him, if the poison started draining him again.

    The boy¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t move behind his closed lids. His breathing remained steady, mouth quirked up in that tired little smile¨Cbut, ever so briefly, his hand tightened on hers.

    #

    ¡°That was too close,¡± Allana told Tenebres the next day. Late morning sunshine shone through the gauzy curtains of Geoffrey¡¯s lounge

    The assassin had provided them with cups of thick, dark tea, and already Allana could feel it clearing the morning fog from her brain. She gestured for Tenebres to sip from his as well¨Cthis was clearly a high-quality tea, a rare luxury that Geoffrey had offered without comment after Allana¡¯s sleepless night.

    ¡°We had no way of knowing how strong the monster would be,¡± Tenebres pointed out. He blew steam from the top of his tea and took a delicate sip, then wrinkled his nose and added a small spoon of sugar.

    Allana rolled her eyes, as much at the boy¡¯s actions as his words. She had never understood the rituals people had with their tea, and on the rare occasion she drank any, took it dark, strong, and hot enough to nearly burn herself. ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean, Seo, and you know it.¡±

    Tenebres shrugged, but kept his eyes on his cup, apparently unable to look Allana in the eyes. ¡°Do I?¡±

    Allana frowned. ¡°Seo, you almost died because you insist on using your Blood Magic and refuse to use your other abilities.¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s own face tightened with some mixture of emotions Allana couldn¡¯t quite sort through. ¡°That¡¯s not true. I used it there at the end.¡±

    ¡°The buff, right,¡± Allana acknowledged. ¡°But you held off on using it so long that the backlash when it wore off nearly killed you!¡±

    Tenebres shrugged one shoulder, his eyes still sullenly downcast.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t get it!¡± Allana insisted, unable to keep a little hint of frustration from creeping into her voice. ¡°It¡¯s your gift, Tenebres! If you just keep wasting it like this, you¡¯re never going to get anywhere!¡±

    ¡°Wasting it?¡± Tenebres repeated, finally looking up. Allana was shocked to see tears rimming his eyes. ¡°You remember how I got this gift, right? The sacrificial altar and all that?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Allana said more softly. But she slid a little steel back into her tone as she continued. ¡°But who cares? You know where my gifts came from, Seo. One bought by a man to give him another lever over me, the other produced after months of being routinely poisoned. I hate what they represent, that they¡¯re just creative ways for that bastard to control me. But I use them anyway¨Cbecause if I didn¡¯t, I¡¯d be dead!¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s eyes slowly drifted away from her again, and Allana tried to suppress another surge of irritation. He could at least look at me!

    But before she opened her mouth, she tried to rein in her temper, to look more closely at her friend. And she was surprised to notice that his face wasn¡¯t stubborn, or sullen, and distant. It was twisted with shame.

    ¡°Seo?¡± she tried to be more gentle this time. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t tell you everything,¡± the boy admitted quietly.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Allana repeated.

    ¡°Did you¡­¡± Tenebres stopped to take a deep breath before he continued. ¡°Did you wonder how I got out of there? After I got my gift?¡±

    Allana thought back to his story, and realized that Tenebres had never elaborated on that part. ¡°You told us¡­ something went wrong with the ritual,¡± she recalled. ¡°The sacrifice didn¡¯t work, and by the time it was all over, you were a wraith, and you had this gift of the void, and the cult was dead.¡± Allana¡¯s eyes went wide, shock shooting up her spine as she realized what Tenebres was implying. ¡°Seo¡­ did you¡­¡±

    Tenebres shook his head, then stopped himself, and shrugged helplessly. ¡°No. Or¡­ Kind of, I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s this gift. Its main ability lets me summon these things, these fiends, by sacrificing my own attributes. And without meaning to, I used it. I summoned this monster and it killed all of them. There was nothing any of them could even do. It killed my¨Ckilled the entire cult. Everyone except me.¡±

    Allana blinked, trying to process the boy¡¯s words, and what he noticeably wasn¡¯t saying. His parents had been in the cult, he had told them. They had stood by while he was to be sacrificed. If this demon killed everyone, then his first use of a gift ability had killed his own parents, in addition to who knew how many others

    She had no idea what she was supposed to say in the face of a confession like that. ¡°Tenebres¡­ I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡±

    The boy swallowed thickly. ¡°I couldn¡¯t control it, Allana. There was nothing I could do, no matter how much I tried. It killed everyone, no matter how much I told it to stop. It just wouldn¡¯t.¡± Tenebres finally looked up again to meet her eyes, and Allana could see the tears streaking down his face. ¡°That is why I don¡¯t use my void gift, Allana. It¡¯s evil. And it could hurt you, hurt Geoffrey.¡±

    ¡°I rather doubt that.¡±

    Allana¡¯s head shot around, and she gave Geoffrey a positively venomous look as he entered the room.

    Tenebres looked from the assassin to Allana, and she could see the pain, the betrayal, appear on his face.

    ¡°Allana¡­ did you¨C¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Allana insisted. ¡°I had no idea he was there, Seo, I swear!¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t,¡± Geoffrey told him, slipping into the plush armchair across from the lounger they had claimed. ¡°I asked her to talk to you about your other gift, but I didn¡¯t warn her I¡¯d be listening in.¡±

    The boy turned a similarly venomous look on Geoffrey now, but the assassin shrugged off the pair of glares, unfazed. ¡°You¡¯re my students, in my house. I¡¯d argue you didn¡¯t have much right to privacy in the first place.¡±

    Allana opened her mouth to tell the assassin off, but Tenebres rolled his eyes. ¡°Stop, Allana. He¡¯s right. It¡¯s about time I lay everything on the table.

    Geoffrey grinned and leaned forward in his seat. ¡°Excellent.¡± The blonde man steepled his fingers together under his chin. ¡°Then if you don¡¯t mind, I have some questions.¡±

 Chapter 55 - Tenebres

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about this,¡± Tenebres said nervously. He looked around the wide cavern, the same one he and Allana had encountered the darkmaw in just days before.

    ¡°Why?¡± Geoffrey asked. As he spoke, the assassin drove an anchor with a ring on one end into the stone wall in a single motion, showing a level of strength beyond his already powerful physique. ¡°It makes perfect sense. The fiend you summoned back at the cult compound drained all of your physical attributes¨Cif you use only a single attribute instead, I see no reason the summoned entity wouldn¡¯t be both weaker and easier to control.¡±

    As he spoke, he gestured for Allana to hang a lantern on the embedded ring, the fourth such that they had hung. While the lights couldn¡¯t quite dispel the gloom of the deep cavern, they made the darkness significantly less imposing.

    ¡°And if you still can¡¯t control it,¡± Allana pointed out, ¡°we have one of the strongest gifted in the city to kill it for us.¡± Geoffrey sketched a little bow in recognition of the point.

    Tenebres rolled his eyes. ¡°And we have to do it here because¡­ why exactly?¡±

    ¡°We know it¡¯s secure. If no one found the darkmaw down here, we can be pretty sure no one will find us,¡± Allana told him for the fifth time.

    ¡°Besides. I don¡¯t want any of your demons destroying my home,¡± Geoffrey added.

    Tenebres sighed¨C his eyes couldn¡¯t help but find their way to a set of dark stains on the floor, the only indicators of the place he had nearly died fighting the monstrous spider-rat. All the logic in the world didn¡¯t make this place, or this idea, any more appealing.

    But he knew the others were right. His refusal to use the gift of the void had nearly gotten him killed, and he would never be able to reach Apprentice level without leveling both of his gifts. He had hoped to find someone who could tell him more about the darkness inside of him and how to control it, but it was increasingly becoming apparent that Emeston did not draw the sorts of scholar that might be able to help with that. He had to start finding his own way.

    With a thought, the description of the ability they were going to test flitted into his field of vision.

    [Void Invocation] - Active, Summon - Open a gate and beckon a fiend to cross over. Nature and power of the fiend as well as ability cost varies based on the strength of the invocation. Sufficiently powerful fiends may be difficult to control. Moderate duration.

    Tenebres took a deep breath and said, ¡°Okay. Which attribute do you want me to start with?¡±

    There was a whisper of metal on cloth as Geoffrey drew his sword, a remarkably long, gracefully curved blade that gleamed even in the dull light of the lanterns. Without a sound, Allana flicked each of her hands, conjuring her ensouled daggers, and each of the two assassins settled into fighting poses.

    ¡°Start with strength,¡± Geoffrey instructed him.

    ¡°Right.¡± Tenebres took another slow breath, and mentally prodded his gift of the void. He felt it, as always, like a hungry abyss in his chest, desperate to consume and destroy, represented by a yawning circle inscribed over his heart. He couldn¡¯t have described exactly what he did to activate the ability, but he carefully fed his strength into that yearning maw.

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Strength attribute sacrificed

    Minor fiend green imp successfully invoked

    A fluttering darkness manifested in front of Tenebres as the ability activated, like a series of physical shadows wrapping around each other before quickly coalescing into the imp he had summoned.

    It had some similarities to most outsiders. Like them, it shared the general shape of a human¨Ctwo arms, two legs, a head atop a central chest. But that was where the similarities ended.

    The imp was diminutive, perhaps a hair over three feet tall, and so layered in dull slabs of muscle that it looked positively deformed. Its skin was a dark shade of rotten green that made Tenebres think of bile, spotted with warts and pockmarks. Its legs were too short for its body, and its arms too thick, with each ending in an impressively clawed hand. The imp¡¯s face was just as ugly as the rest of it, with a hooked nose nearly as long as Tenebres¡¯s spread fingers and a pair of notched, bat-like ears rising above the top of its head.

    ¡°Well¡­ isn¡¯t that just disgusting,¡± Allana observed.

    Beady yellow eyes flicked from place to place before Allana¡¯s words drew them to her, and Tenebres felt a surge of violent hate flow from the imp into him. The sensation wasn¡¯t anything as solid as thoughts or words, rather a simple tide of ugly, horrible emotion. The imp wanted to kill, to corrupt, to destroy as much as it could.

    Tenebres staggered in place, wincing, and in front of him, the imp took a pair of quick steps towards Allana.

    No! Without quite knowing what he was doing, Tenebres clamped his will down on the imp, preventing it from taking another step.

    ¡°Tenebres?¡± Geoffrey¡¯s voice was sharp and clear. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah¡­¡± Tenebres flinched as the imp¡¯s emotions lashed back, angry at being stopped, but he gritted his teeth and kept it from moving. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it, but¡­ it¡¯s hard. It really, really wants to kill something.¡±

    Tenebres was too focused on the imp to watch Allana and Geoffrey¡¯s reactions, but Allana commented, ¡°It¡¯s staring at me a lot.¡±

    ¡°Yeah it¡¯s sort of¡­ fixated on you. I think it knows you insulted it.¡± Even as he spoke, the emotions became clearer. The imp wasn¡¯t truly intelligent, but it had enough of a mind to understand Allana¡¯s tone as reason enough to kill her.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Geoffrey said, his voice carefully controlled. ¡°Let¡¯s work with that. We know it wants to kill, and it''s focused on Allana. Can you direct it towards me instead?¡±

    Tenebres blew out a breath and loosened his grip on the imp a little bit, trying to fix its ugly cocktail of hate at the man as he spoke instead. The imp resisted at first¨Cbut it was far easier to direct its actions than it was to hold it in place. He felt a surge of agreement from the imp, that all it wanted was to kill and that it was happy to do as Tenebres asked if he let it do so.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Tenebres warned Geoffrey. ¡°Here it comes!¡± Finally, he fully relaxed his control over the imp.

    The hideous green creature howled and threw itself at Geoffrey, dagger-sized claws flashing. Tenebres didn¡¯t even see the assassin move¨Cbut suddenly, the hateful presence in his brain vanished, even as both halves of the imp dispersed into those same fluttering shadows.

    [Gift of the Void] experienced gained

    Experience: 34%

    Tenebres felt himself sag in place, and fell to his knees, shaking.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Allana asked. The girl was next to him now, one arm wrapped around his shoulders.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Tenebres told her, giving her a shaky smile. ¡°It¡¯s just a relief to not have it there anymore.¡±

    ¡°You could feel it?¡± Allana asked.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ and it¡¯s not very pleasant. I¡¯ve¡­¡± he shook his head. ¡°I only felt that kind of hate once before, back on that day. I don¡¯t think it was sane. It¡¯s like all it could feel, all it could think about, was the need to kill, to destroy, to do whatever harm it could-¡±

    ¡°Tenebres.¡± Allana shook his shoulder, and he realized that his voice had been getting louder as he spoke, distracted by even the memory of those emotions.

    ¡°S-sorry¡­ It was a lot.¡± And on top of that, he felt weak. His legs and arms shook like he had just finished a long day of labor, the effect of sacrificing his strength to the invocation.

    Geoffrey was willing to give Tenebres a couple minutes to recover, but he soon started pressing in with questions. ¡°Can you tell me how much the cost was to summon that thing?¡±

    ¡°Invoke,¡± Tenebres corrected him gently, sitting on the floor now.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The word is ¡®invoke,¡¯ not summon.¡±

    ¡°Okay, how much did you pay to invoke it then?¡± Geoffrey asked, his expression calculating.

    With a thought, Tenebre called up his attributes.

    Attributes:

    Strength: 1 (3 - 2*)

    Resilience: 4

    Stamina: 3

    Coordination: 6 (4 + 2)

    Speed: 3

    Will: 11 (6 + 5)

    Knowledge: 9 (7 + 2)

    Focus: 7 (5 + 2)

    Awareness: 5

    Charm: 10 (5 + 5)

    Mystical Well: 10

    Tenebres chuckled dryly. ¡°It cost me two points. I¡¯ve only got one right now.¡±

    Geoffrey sucked some air through his teeth. ¡°Rogue¡¯s shade, that can¡¯t feel good.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ think you¡¯re good for another attribute?¡±

    ¡°Geoffrey, come on! Look at him!¡±

    ¡°No, Allana,¡± Tenebres reassured her, ¡°he¡¯s right. The restoration potion will restore all of my attributes when I drink it. I might as well make it worth it.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Geoffrey agreed, ¡°How about speed next then?¡±

    #

    A couple hours and two restoration potions later, Tenebres had a solid idea of the extent of his Invocations.

    Speed and stamina had produced similar imps to the first, though colored differently. The blue speed imp had been more slender and sported a pair of wings and a pointed tail that it preferred to attack with, while stamina had produced a red imp with no obvious natural weapons¨Cuntil it had opened its mouth and breathed out a gout of flame. They had the same sense of malicious rancor as the green imp, but they were just as easy to direct as the first had been, like little living weapons.

    ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate,¡± Geoffrey observed. ¡°Those seem like your ideal summons, but you¡¯re too weak to be functional once you summon them.¡±

    ¡°Unless you use that buff ability,¡± Allana pointed out.

    Coordination and resilience had produced a couple more interesting fiends¨Ca ball of writhing tentacles and a glob of sentient slime, respectively. While fairly immobile, both had proven to be significant hindrances, the tentacles able to bind and tie up enemies while the slime had a faintly acidic touch and was extremely difficult to kill. Geoffrey had to hunt down a small core, only slightly darker and more dense than the rest of the glob, to kill the latter completely.

    Best of all, both of the fiends lacked the concentrated malice that filled the imps¡¯ thoughts. In fact, they didn¡¯t really seem to feel much of anything. Or, Tenebres mused, the emotions they do feel are too alien for me to understand.

    ¡°As much as I hate the idea of a tentacle ball being my best option, it sort of seems that way,¡± Tenebres groaned as he waited for his second restoration potion to do its work. ¡°It¡¯s easy to command, a functional distraction, and coordination is my highest physical attribute.¡±

    ¡°Unless some of the mental attributes work out better,¡± Geoffrey posited.

    Unfortunately, that idea came up empty. Focus, will, knowledge, and charm had all produced the same result.

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Insufficient attributes sacrificed

    No fiend invoked

    ¡°I think it wants me to add another attribute,¡± Tenebres intuited. ¡°Everything I invoked so far was barely sentient, at best. Maybe mental attributes are how I make intelligent fiends.¡±

    ¡°Then we should try it,¡± Geoffrey suggested.

    ¡°No.¡± Tenebres held firm on that point. ¡°I¡¯m willing to experiment with one attribute invocations, but a second would make the fiends both smarter and more powerful. It¡¯s too likely something could go wrong.¡±

    However, even discarding the other mental attributes, the last invocation ended up being a worthwhile one.

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Awareness attribute sacrificed

    Minor fiend flying eye successfully invoked

    The resulting fiend was a single eye about the size of Tenebres¡¯s fist. The ¡°eyelid¡± of the fiend wrapped fully around it when it shut, and it sported a pair of bat wings to either side, allowing it sporadic, fluttering flight. Like the tentacles and slime, it lacked the murderous desire of the imps, instead carrying a sense of indulgent curiosity. Best of all, it conveyed some small sense of the things it saw back to Tenebres.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like seeing it for myself,¡± he explained, ¡°but I can feel its sense of fear when it looks at Geoffrey.¡±

    ¡°It could be a functional scout,¡± Geoffrey suggested, after killing the ocular demon. ¡°Overall, your skillset has some similarity to a sorcerer.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s summoning magic, right?¡±

    ¡°Correct. They tend to favor more supporting abilities though, especially at lower levels. Scouting spirits and the like. Your invocations are much more offensively focused, but at least that eyeball gives you a little flexibility. The general strategy of the void gift seems clear, though.¡±

    ¡°Kill something with Sacrificial Victim,¡± Tenebres guessed, ¡°then use that buff to summon a bunch of imps.¡±

    ¡°Easier said than done, though,¡± Geoffrey said. ¡°Final abilities like that, that activate only on a kill, are rare.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen one like it before?¡± Allana asked.

    ¡°A few. My gift of the assassin has one, though that¡¯s more meant to make an escape. It gives me a veil if it triggers. But they¡¯re almost always low power¨Cyou¡¯ll need to plan very carefully to have it work properly.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a physical attack, too. I have to touch them to use it. Doesn¡¯t play nice with my general strategy of staying as far away from the things that want to kill me as possible.¡±

    ¡°Which brings us to our next point,¡± Geoffrey told him, giving Allana a pointed look.

    The words brought a bright smile to the girl¡¯s mouth, completely at odds with the threatening twirl she gave one of her daggers. ¡°You¡¯re too dependent on staying at a range. It¡¯s high time we work on that.¡±

    Tenebres sighed. Even after the relief of his invocations going off without a hitch, he was exhausted, and it was clear that his day wasn¡¯t going to be ending anytime soon.

 Chapter 56 - Caden

    ¡°It was truly an honor to meet you, sir.¡± Bernard, the stout chief of Kellister¡¯s hunter, shook Sir Toren¡¯s hand gratefully. ¡°It could¡¯ve been a rough time for us if it wasn¡¯t for you and your squire.¡±

    The false knight accepted the gratitude with a gentle smile. ¡°It was no trouble at all, Bernard. You¡¯ve a great village here, full of wonderful people. I have no doubt you and yours would have handled the situation just fine, even in my absence.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps sir, perhaps, but I¡¯m thankful to not have to find out.¡±

    ¡°Noble¡¯s name, is he crying?¡± Alyssia asked Caden, her voice low enough to not carry.

    The two were sitting on a low log on the side of the road leading out of the town, the two older men giving them the space for their own goodbyes.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s sweet,¡± Caden said. Then, after a moment of inspecting the chief hunter¡¯s bushy and increasingly damp beard, he corrected himself, ¡°Maybe not.¡±

    The two laughed and turned away from the scene. ¡°So where to next for you?¡± Alyssia asked.

    ¡°Wonderful question,¡± Caden replied with an eye roll. ¡°You¡¯re asking the wrong person. He¡¯s the one who plans our route.¡± Caden hiked a thumb at the tall so-called knight.

    ¡°Well¡­ if your path ever takes you through Elliven, make sure you stop in to see me, alright?¡±

    Caden arched an eyebrow. ¡°Oh? I¡¯m just gonna show up, sweaty and covered in road dirt, ask to see the eldest daughter of a noble family, and your guards or what have you will let me in?¡±

    Alyssia chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m honored you think my family can afford guards.¡± Then she carefully added, ¡°Although¡­ maybe do take a bath first.¡±

    Caden pretended to be affronted for a moment, before returning the laugh. ¡°How much longer do you think you¡¯ll be staying here?¡±

    ¡°Not long,¡± Alyssia said grimly. Caden grinned at her tone, as if she was daring the world to prove her wrong. ¡°I already got my gift of the skirmisher to Initiate, and my gift of earth is so close I can taste it. Then I¡¯ll do my trial hunt, get the gift of the hunter, and get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Back to the Wastes?¡±

    Alyssia nodded. Then, after a moment, she sighed. ¡°You know, I¡¯m a little jealous of you.¡±

    Caden¡¯s smile widened, and a little huff of helpless laughter escaped his throat. ¡°You¡¯re almost Initiate level, with a noble name and an established cadre in the Arboreal Wastes, and you¡¯re jealous of me?¡±

    Alyssia nodded, her face distant, thoughtful. ¡°I am,¡± she insisted.

    ¡°And why is that?¡± Caden asked, still smiling, baffled by the claim.

    ¡°Because, you¡¯ve got so much in front of you. You can do anything you want, go anywhere you want.¡±

    ¡°And you can¡¯t?¡± Caden couldn¡¯t quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure your title and money travel fairly well.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised,¡± Alyssia replied dryly. Then she shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not that easy for me. Being a noble is as much responsibility as privilege, Caden. Between my obligation to work in the Wastes, then the duties I¡¯ll owe my family when I take over for my father¡­¡± The older girl sighed, and she suddenly didn¡¯t look so bold and self-assured. ¡°If I¡¯m lucky, I might be asked to travel to the King¡¯s Court one day, or to serve a term in the Lunar Wastes. But otherwise¡­ This might be the only time I get to spend outside of Elliven in my entire life.¡±

    Caden¡¯s smile dropped away by degrees as Alyssia spoke. As much as anything else, her words made Caden think of his mother, and of the other hunters in Felisen. They were just as bound by the responsibility of their role as what the noble girl described. Yet Caden had turned away from that responsibility, setting off with Storyteller, exploring the Realm in a way many of its citizens never would.

    Yet that flash of guilt that realization inspired didn¡¯t dull the allure of the open road. If so few had the chance to wander that he was now taking advantage of, that was all the more reason to covet what he had, wasn¡¯t it?

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll just have to come share stories of my travels with you then, right?¡± Caden asked, trying for cavalier with his tone.

    ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± Alyssia told him.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a deal.¡±

    Alyssia smiled, but the expression was too sad to look genuine. ¡°First Oli, now you¡­¡± she reflected.

    ¡°Oli¡­ that¡¯s your brother, right?¡± Caden asked.

    ¡°Mhmm. He left home a little before I did, actually. With a real silver knight.¡±

    Caden bumped his shoulder against hers and laughed. ¡°So he¡¯s out wandering too? What happened to noble obligation?¡±

    Alyssia¡¯s face, after such a brief distraction, darkened again. ¡°It¡¯s an obligation that¡¯s supposed to go both ways.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­¡± Alyssia sighed. ¡°I mean my brother had his own reasons for leaving. And I can¡¯t really blame him for doing it.¡±

    ¡°You said his name¡¯s Oli?¡±

    ¡°Short for Oliver. He¡¯s traveling with a knight named Adeline.¡±

    Caden nodded, remembering the name from their first day in Kellister. ¡°Right, right. Well,¡± he grinned, ¡°I¡¯ll tell him you say hi if I ever see him.¡±

    ¡°Good. You can make him come visit me too.¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Their conversation tapered off, neither knowing what else to say. On the road, Bernard gave Sir Toren a final pat on the shoulder, and was turning to leave.

    Caden heaved a breath and stood up. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s about time then,¡± he told Alyssia.

    Next to him, the noble girl stood up too. ¡°Good travels, Caden.¡±

    ¡°Good hunting, Alyssia,¡± Caden replied with a grin.

    Alyssia looked from side to side quickly, then leaned forward to press her lips to his. The kiss was soft, shallow, and brief. When they parted, the slender girl kept her face close to Caden¡¯s, and whispered huskily, ¡°Next time we meet¡­¡±

    Caden smirked. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    Her lips suddenly turned up in a dangerous smile. ¡°You better be ready for a rematch.¡±

    Caden huffed a little laugh. ¡°You¡¯ve got it.¡± He hesitated, then added, ¡°Thank you. For helping me¡­ for giving me the words to express who I am.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Alyssia told him with a wink. ¡°For being my first celestial.¡±

    The two kissed again, the contact again brief but warm in a way that made his heart flutter.

    And then Caden turned to follow Storyteller, absently wondering if the words were real, if they¡¯d ever see Alyssia again, if she¡¯d even want to see someone she had spent a couple nights with in a little village so far from her home.

    Only one way to find out, the celestial promised themself.

    #

    ¡°So where to next?¡± Caden rested his hands on the back of his head as they walked. Overhead, the bright summer sun shone in a clear blue sky, with not a cloud in sight. The air in the small wood they passed through on their way out of Kellister smelled like growing things and the gentle breeze carried the smell of grain even as it swept away the humidity so common to the warmest season in the heartlands.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Storyteller arched an eyebrow down at Caden. ¡°I thought you were content to let me be the one planning the route.¡±

    Caden rolled his eyes. Of course Teller had been listening to his conversation with Alyssia. ¡°I am. But occasionally, I would like to know where exactly we¡¯re bound for.¡±

    ¡°Destinations are overrated.¡± The tall adventurer rolled one of his shoulders and grimaced. ¡°Ugh. I spent too long as Sir Toren back there. It¡¯s gonna take me a week to work that steel out of my spine.¡±

    ¡°Then how about you start relaxing by telling me where we¡¯re going instead of dodging the question?¡±

    Storyteller gave the teenager an arch look. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think we¡¯ve traveled together for too long. I can¡¯t tell you how long it¡¯s been since someone spent enough time around me to start picking out my habits.¡±

    Caden frowned. ¡°Storyteller?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°WHERE ARE WE GOING!?¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine, no need to shout.¡± Caden folded his arms and stopped moving, glaring at the man¡¯s back. Storyteller made it a few more steps before he turned around. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me!¡±

    ¡°Adventurer¡¯s travelsack, FINE.¡± Storyteller lifted his arms to the heavens and spun around brusquely. ¡°Where are we now?¡±

    ¡°The Heartlands.¡±

    Storyteller gave Caden another sharp look, and the celestial grinned innocently. ¡°More specifically, please.¡±

    Caden arched his own eyebrow. ¡°The outskirts of Kellister?¡±

    ¡°No, less-¡± Storyteller pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try this another way. We¡¯ve been traveling west along the Lumber Road, right?¡±

    ¡°More or less,¡± Caden agreed with a shrug. The Lumber Road was a long and meandering route that cut horizontally through much of the heartlands, from east to west. Felisen, Kellister, and all the villages they had passed through along the way all based their economy on supplying wood to the merchants who traveled that highroad.

    ¡°Okay, so, what¡¯s at the west end of the Lumber Road?¡± Storyteller asked.

    Caden suppressed a sigh. Of course it was another lesson. He closed his eyes, trying to picture a map of the heartlands as best he could. On one side of the Lumber Road, far closer to Felisen, was Elliven, the bastion city. On the west end was¡­ ¡°Correntry, right?¡±

    ¡°Correct!¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s where we¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not.¡±

    Caden glowered up at the tall adventurer, and cast a wistful glance back towards the village. ¡°I wonder if Alyssia has any room in her cadre¡­¡±

    Storyteller barked a laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t be so quick to leave just yet. How much of our journey have we actually spent on the Lumber Road?¡±

    Caden thought on it for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Not much. You always have us wandering through the woods, or on little side roads like this one.¡±

    ¡°Ah, there we go!¡± Storyteller pointed a finger at Caden. ¡°Keep going, follow that logic! Why aren¡¯t we on the Lumber Road?¡±

    ¡°Well, it would be faster, and easier, but we¡¯re not really trying to get to a specific place at a specific time,¡± Caden reflected. ¡°And staying off the road let us find a lot more monsters to practice on¡­ because there¡¯s no wardens?¡±

    ¡°Right! We¡¯re adventurers, we¡¯re the ones who go where the wardens don¡¯t bother to. Forgotten woods, abandoned trade routes, little villages. We don¡¯t just follow the highroads unless we have good reason to.¡±

    Caden nodded slowly. The logic made some sense, given what Storyteller had explained about adventurers over their time together. But¡­ ¡°You still haven¡¯t said where we¡¯re going!¡±

    Storyteller waved a hand. ¡°As I said, goals are overrated. We¡¯re going to find people who need help. But, if you need a destination so very badly¡­¡± Storyteller raised a hand to his chin, then looked up towards the sun. He lifted his arm, as if sighting down it, then turned to follow the line of the road. ¡°I would say we¡¯re probably headed to¡­ that direction.¡±

    Caden sighed again. He once again tried to think of the map hanging on the wall at Kellister¡¯s nameless inn. ¡°Well, we¡¯re pretty far south of the highroad at this point, and¡­¡± he pointed a hand in the same direction as Storyteller, ¡°¡®that direction¡¯ is southwest. So we¡¯d be angling towards¡­ not quite the Cliff Road, we¡¯d have to go farther south for that, and we¡¯re still too far west for the Valley Hearth, so¡­ I think that¡¯s the bottom of the Flax Road, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Storyteller sighed, and flicked a hand through the air. His eyes lost focus a little bit as he made a couple more quick passes with the fingers of one hand, as if he was looking at something Caden couldn¡¯t quite see. In fact, it was almost as if¡­ ¡°Do you have a map ability?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm?¡± Storyteller gave Caden a distracted look. ¡°Oh. Yes, that little Know Direction ability of yours becomes a map once you hit Initiate.¡±

    ¡°What!?¡± The simplest ability among all of his gifts, it was easy for even Caden to forget about Know Direction.

    [Know Direction] - Active, Utility - Learn the direction of true north. No cost.

    ¡°Well. At least it¡¯ll be useful eventually.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s pretty handy.¡± Storyteller turned his attention back to the empty air and made another small motion, before nodding. ¡°Good on you, you were right. We head this way for about a week, we should reach Jellis.¡±

    ¡°Jellis?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a town at the bottom of the Flax Road, a bit of a trade hub for the area. Kellister must be just outside of its influence.¡± Storyteller made another sharp motion, as if batting away an errant fly. Closing his map, Caden assumed. ¡°Good enough?¡±

    Caden blew out a breath. ¡°Jellis. Yeah, that works for me.¡±

    ¡°And thank the Adventurer for that. Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Chapter 57 - Oliver

    ¡°So that¡¯s Jellis,¡± Oliver observed.

    ¡°Oh good, you¡¯ve recovered enough to offer us the benefits of your profound intellect again,¡± Beryl groused.

    The boy huffed a laugh and put a hand on the girl¡¯s powerful shoulder. ¡°And you¡¯re recovered enough to complain. We¡¯re all doing wonderfully.¡±

    The warden recruit broke her gaze from the draft team for a moment to give him a sidelong look, but a smile split her face, too. In the day and a half since Rose had healed him, Oliver had been relieved to find the tension between all three of them dispersed. He still expected that he and Beryl would never be close, but their struggle with the storm monsters had reminded them of what it meant to work together.

    It was difficult to stay upset with someone who had saved your life, and in the desperate fight with the stormstrike stag, each of the trio owed their lives to the other two.

    Of course, Oliver didn¡¯t have too much time to reflect on the ramifications of life-and-death struggles, as the trade town of Jellis quickly occupied his attention.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ quite a bit larger than I expected,¡± Beryl admitted.

    Normally Oliver would take the chance to tease the girl for letting her jaded act slide, but really, he was just as stunned as she was.

    Most of the villages that dotted the heartlands were small communities of perhaps a few hundred people, at most, and never numbered more than a hundred or so homes. What few artisans dwelled in those villages tended to conduct business out of their homes, and so there were few notable buildings in any given settlement. An inn, if the village was situated along a trade route, a boarding house if not, maybe a mill or a smithy. There was no need for much more than that, and as most villages produced their own food, their size was limited by their ability to feed themselves while producing a surplus to sell.

    Jellis was¡­ different. Oliver had known that, in theory at least, as had Rose and Beryl. Situated at the bottom of the Flax Road, Jellis was about halfway between Correntry to the north and Emeston to the south. A few generations back, it had sprung up as a trading post, taking advantage of a central crossroad that the dozen or so local farming communities had brought their trade goods to.

    It had grown naturally from there. An inn opened to cater to caravans stopping at the trading post. Then a smithy, a wainwright, a cooper, a barn and livery, all businesses serving the needs of those same caravans. Soon there were enough permanent residents to  afford the upkeep of a few hunters, who needed their own homes, which lured in carpenters. Eventually, Jellis solidified its place on the map when an Adept weaver took up residence there, working with the flax being brought in from the outlying communities, allowing merchants to trade not just for raw materials but for processed, and often magical, cloth and textiles.

    Now, Jellis was a community of over two thousand people, including half a dozen competing weavers and tailors that each had a significant staff, a pair of merchant companies that based themselves out of the cheaper town rather than pay the expensive rates of life in Correntry, and no small number of other professional tradesmen and women. It was still small, admittedly, compared to the trade cities or the massive bastion cities, but it was far larger than any other settlement nearby, and after well over a month on the road, it was stunning to Oliver and Beryl alike.

    Rose was less impressed. She sat up with a sleepy yawn in the back of the wagon, and asked, ¡°What are you two so shocked over? It¡¯s charming and all, but after so long on the road, I was hoping for something less,¡± button nose wrinkling, she continued, ¡°rustic.¡±

    ¡°Rustic,¡± Beryl repeated with an eye roll. ¡°A lifetime on the road, then living in an orphanage, and she thinks this is rustic.¡±

    Oliver huffed a little laugh. As impressive and bustling as the town was, it truly didn¡¯t compare to a major city like Correntry or Elliven. Although, Oli reflected, that was more a result of its location than anything else. Not so long ago, before the appearance of the Arboreal Wastes, Elliven had been a township not much larger than Jellis, and Oliver wouldn¡¯t be surprised if this town one day reached the heights of Correntry and Emeston, a fourth trade city.

    Oliver started to make a joke about the likely lack of bathhouses in the town, but he was interrupted by the calls of rough voices, and the carts ahead of them pulling to one side of the road.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Oliver asked suspiciously, while Beryl cursed and hauled on the reins, directing the pair of draft goats pulling their cart to follow Hugo¡¯s lead.

    A handful of armed and armored men approached the caravan, and Oliver hissed a warning through his teeth. His hand flew to his sword before Rose, behind him, said, ¡°Calm down, Oli. It¡¯s just the guards.¡±

    Rose was quickly proven correct. Hugo hopped off the forward caravan and promptly began talking to the guardsmen of Jellis, presenting them a series of documents. Inventory lists and travel papers and the like, Oliver figured.

    The leader of the guards was a mountain of a man, six feet tall and nearly as wide across. With him standing next to Hugo, himself stout and with a bit of paunch, Oliver couldn¡¯t help but think of a draft goat standing next to a domestic farm goat.

    Though they were too far for Oliver to hear their words, he could make out the general direction of their conversation through body language. The big man cut Hugo off with a barked question, and the little merchant lifted a hand, looking somewhat put out, to gesture towards the back of the caravan.

    At Oliver and his friends, specifically.

    The big guard nodded and turned to follow Hugo¡¯s indicated direction, starting towards them.

    ¡°Incoming,¡± Oliver muttered.

    ¡°Fantastic¡­¡± Beryl replied.

    ¡°Oh stop whining, let¡¯s at least go meet the man before we get all upset,¡± Rose scolded both of them. Still, as she hopped out of the wagon, Oliver noted that she was carrying her thin, pale staff, and had made sure that Beryl had her own warstaff resting nearby.

    Oliver grunted and hopped over the driver¡¯s bench, standing with Rose as the giant of a man reached them.

    He had the dark brown skin typical of Westerlen, and both his head and face were shaved bare. Though heavyset, he carried himself with the careful balance and casual ease of a battle-gifted, and his heavy-lidded eyes gave him a deceptively sleepy appearance noticeably at odds with his sharp gaze.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the wardens then?¡± he drawled.

    ¡°Recruits,¡± Rose clarified politely. ¡°We¡¯re only Novice level.¡±

    ¡°Hngh,¡± the man grunted. ¡°Under what officer?¡±

    ¡°Warden Farris, sir.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡± The man¡¯s eyes locked on Oliver, and he felt his skin crawl from the stare. It was the kind of look Oliver had seen from very few people, most of them nobles. It was like, in a moment, the man had cataloged every detail he needed about Oliver. ¡°You¡¯re not.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Oliver blinked, and tried for his best smile, but he felt clumsy and awkward compared to Rose¡¯s deliberate poise. Wasn¡¯t he supposed to be the noble here? ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°That arming jack, your sword, your eyes. You''re no warden, recruit or no.¡±

    Oliver blinked again. ¡°Ah¡­ you¡¯re correct, sir. I¡¯m a knight, or, I mean, a squire, that is.¡±

    ¡°Order?¡±

    It took Oliver a moment to figure out the laconic man¡¯s meaning. ¡°Oh. Argent, sir.¡±

    The big man huffed a breath that only very generously could¡¯ve been called a laugh. ¡°Baby silver knight, aye?¡±

    ¡°Yessir, under Lady-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care, baby knight.¡± The man¡¯s gaze drifted away from him with a dismissive finality.

    Oliver felt something dark and sullen flare up in his chest, and for a second, he was back in Elliven, getting told off for another quasi-real social slight. His father¡¯s eyes were the same as this man¡¯s, this guard who hadn¡¯t even bothered to introduce himself before picking him apart. They weren¡¯t alike in shape or color, but they shared that talent for visually breaking a person down like they were deboning a chicken, and for visibly dismissing someone from their attention as if they didn¡¯t exist anymore.

    If the big man noticed Oliver¡¯s reaction, he didn¡¯t show it as he addressed all three of them. ¡°Let me be clear. I don¡¯t care if the King himself sent you. You¡¯re in my town now, and here, my men are the only ones with the authority to draw steel or offer battle. You see something suspicious, warden or knight or hunter, you find me or one of my men. We¡¯re about. Got it?¡±

    ¡°And who exactly are you?¡± Oliver asked.

    Apparently his voice held a little more of his anger than Oli had thought, because the big man¡¯s eyes locked onto him with all the mercy of an arrow in flight. ¡°I¡¯m Sheriff Elway.¡±

    ¡°¡®Sheriff,¡¯¡± Oliver repeated. ¡°I don¡¯t know that title.¡± His back was still rigid, but Oliver carefully kept his hands away from his sword, refusing to back down but not inviting violence.

    ¡°Think of it like a hunter chief. Only I¡¯ve got a score of hunters working under me, and another two score guardsmen. Clear?¡±

    Oliver nodded, but the big man wasn¡¯t done. He took a pair of rumbling steps closer to Oliver, and told him, ¡°And I got my position by merit. I did my time in the Wastes, and I¡¯m the highest level person between here and the trade cities. So hear me clear when I say that I don''t need any of them to help me tie you in knots and drop you off to my magistrate. Heard?¡±

    The sheriff didn¡¯t bluster or boast. He delivered the threat calmly, his voice lazy as ever and his arms folded across his barrel of a chest, and Oliver had no doubt he was telling the truth.

    ¡°Heard,¡± Oliver acknowledged, if somewhat reluctantly.

    Elway¡¯s eyes stayed focused on Oliver for a few tense, silent moments, then the spell seemed to break. His stance shifted and his eyes moved away¨Cbut this time, they didn¡¯t dismiss him. The most dangerous man in Jellis clearly stayed very, very aware of Oliver.

    Great.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to speak with you at some point about our task,¡± Rose told the man brightly, as if the confrontation between him and Oliver hadn¡¯t even happened.

    The man huffed another breath. ¡°Is that right?¡± His tone made it clear that the words weren¡¯t a question. ¡°Come find me in a day or two.¡± He tilted his head to indicate Oliver. ¡°And maybe leave this one out.¡±

    Without another word, Sheriff Elway turned and strode away, not giving them a second look.

    ¡°Well,¡± Rose said once they were alone, turning on Oli. ¡°What exactly was that display?¡±

    Oliver shrugged, and looked away. Now that the sheriff was gone, he couldn¡¯t help but be embarrassed by his behavior. He could only imagine the tongue lashing Adeline would¡¯ve given him, had she seen the conversation. ¡°I didn¡¯t like the way he looked at me.¡±

    After a moment, Rose sighed. ¡°I get that.¡± The girl seemed to give Oliver another moment before asking, ¡°I¡¯m going to check in with Hugo. Would you like to join me?¡±

    Oliver sighed, and gave the girl a bashful look. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Great. And try not to pick a fight with him too, please.¡±

    #

    ¡°We¡¯ll be here at least a week,¡± Hugo told them, ¡°but less than two.¡±

    ¡°Seems like a quick stop,¡± Oliver pointed out. ¡°Figured you¡¯d want to stick around longer than that to make the trip worth it.¡±

    The stout merchant shook his head. ¡°No need. Thanks to the attacks on the road, no caravans my size have braved the roads in over a month. They¡¯ve got a surplus and no one to sell it to.¡±

    Rose furrowed her brow. ¡°Really? I thought there were still some larger caravans that got through, ones that had higher level guards.¡±

    ¡°Sure, they got through,¡± Hugo explained, ¡°and then they kept right on going, to Emeston. The big companies don¡¯t bother with a Flax Road round trip until harvest time, when they can buy up a season¡¯s worth of stock all at once. A week or so will be long enough to get the damaged wagon fixed and some maintenance done on the other one, and for me to try to trade some raw flax for cloth before we head back. So take your rest while you can get it.¡±

    ¡°And the totems?¡± Oliver asked.

    The merchant gave him a black look. Oliver had learned, after he recovered, that the stormstrike stag had produced a relic after it died, the stag totem a match to the one Hugo had bought earlier on their trip. Rather than wait until they returned to the city, the three had asked Hugo to see to its sale while they were in Jellis.

    ¡°I still say we wait till we get back to Correntry.¡±

    Oilver shook his head firmly. ¡°We burned through a lot of our potions, and we need to check for new weapons and armor before the trip back. We need the money from that totem to do so, and we need your help to get it sold.¡±

    ¡°And don¡¯t forget you need to pay me back, too,¡± Hugo reminded them grumpily.

    Rose rolled her eyes. ¡°Yes, we know, master merchant. We¡¯ve discussed it already. You can recoup any costs for the potions you used to help us recover from the fight, then we¡¯ll split the remainder four ways.¡±

    Hugo¡¯s deep set eyes glittered avariciously. ¡°Five ways,¡± he countered. ¡°One portion for me, one for my employees. Scholar knows they deserve a bonus after all this mess.¡±

    Oliver nodded. ¡°I agree¨Cwhich is why you¡¯ll see it paid out of your portion.¡± The portly man began to set his jaw, and Oliver hardened his voice. ¡°Hugo, if it wasn¡¯t for us, you and this entire caravan would be nothing but shattered remains on the side of the road. And you know as well as I do that we¡¯ve still got at least one more fight coming on the trip back.¡±

    ¡°If your guess is right, perhaps¡­¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Oliver insisted. ¡°Four ways.¡±

    The man crossed his arms. ¡°Elder-damned nobles¡­ fine, four ways!¡±

    ¡°Start with Sheriff Ellway,¡± Rose suggested. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯d be pleased to get some stag gifts on his scouts.¡±

    The man grumbled as he turned away. ¡°Oh why thank you, that would¡¯ve never occurred to¡­ DERRIK! Where are you hiding? Let¡¯s get this wagon unloaded!¡±

    Oliver chuckled at the little merchant¡¯s obvious effort to disengage from the conversation as it got away from him. ¡°So what now?¡± he asked Rose as they started back to their wagon.

    ¡°We find the livery or stables or what have you and get the draft goats taken care of,¡± Rose held up one finger then another as she spoke, as if counting off steps, ¡°then we seek out whatever passes for an inn in this town. A bath, a warm meal, a soft bed.¡± The girl frowned at her hand as she ran out of fingers and shrugged a delicate shoulder. ¡°Then I suppose we¡¯ll see what tomorrow brings.¡±

    Oliver snorted. ¡°Sounds like a plan to me. I could use a little peace and quiet, even if it¡¯s just for a week.¡±

    Rose made a soft sound of agreement. ¡°Mmm. Then perhaps avoid starting arguments with any other notable authority figures in town, if you think you can manage that.¡±

    ¡°It was one time!¡±

    ¡°Nobles,¡± she bemoaned theatrically. ¡°Always needing everything their way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not even a noble anymore!¡± Oliver argued.

    ¡°Once a noble, always a noble,¡± Beryl drawled as they approached the wagon, despite not hearing the rest of the exchange.

    ¡°I hate you both,¡± Oliver muttered¨Cbut he couldn¡¯t quite hold back a grin that matched their own.

 Chapter 58 - Allana

    Morning sunshine, glaringly bright despite the early hour, lanced through the gaps in Allana¡¯s threadbare curtains like hateful spears of light. The wraith girl groaned and rolled over in bed, trying to bury her eyes into the crook of Tenebres¡¯s arm.

    ¡°Make the light go away¡­¡± she whined.

    Teneberes giggled a little and stroked his fingers through her messy violet hair. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m high enough level for that quite yet, Lana.¡±

    She groaned louder and rolled over again, burying her face into her pillow instead. ¡°Useless!¡±

    Tenebres sighed and pressed himself to her side. His fingers, so much softer and more delicate than her own, traced over the brand on her shoulder blade, outlining the tear drops and crossed daggers of her two gifts. ¡°You¡¯re always so grumpy in the morning,¡± he teased her. Any efforts to move her were wasted, his meager frame unable to even slightly budge her more muscular body.

    Allana relaxed as he pulled away, her light sigh interrupted by his cry of ¡°Rise and SHINE!¡± On the last word, he jabbed under her ribs with his fingers.

    Allana yelped and flailed into a more or less upright position, glaring at the cute wraith. She had to admit, if only to herself, that there were far worse ways to wake up. Tenebres hadn¡¯t put a shirt back on after last night, and the sunlight made interesting shadows dance over his thin torso. She never got enough of studying the boy¡¯s oddly curvy body. His chest and hips suggested more feminine curves, and his slender muscles were covered by a layer of soft fat. The result was a sort of androgyny Allana had never seen before, one the usually sun-drawn girl found deeply intriguing.

    After a moment, Allana noticed his red eyes wandering over her own frame, and she remembered that she had ended up as nude as him by the time they fell asleep the night before. A lazy heat smoldered in Allana¡¯s chest at the feeling of his hungry eyes, and she couldn¡¯t help a little stretch for his benefit.

    Her eyes drifted down to a subtle movement in the loose sheets that were draped over his lower half, and she couldn¡¯t help a little smirk. Success.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t you ever let me sleep in?¡± she asked him, picking up the rhythm of her morning complaints as she stood up out of the bed. This time, her stretch was for her own benefit, but she still felt a little surge of satisfaction at the look on Tenebres¡¯s face.

    The boy had to swallow a couple times, and blink before his eyes rolled out of his head, before he managed to respond. ¡°Early assassin catches the¡­ I don¡¯t know, worm.¡±

    ¡°Dire worm?¡± Allana suggested.

    Tenebres waved one hand while lifting another to cover a yawn. ¡°Sure, let¡¯s go with that.¡±

    Allana¡¯s eyes furrowed as she noticed something on the boy¡¯s slender arms. The fog of sleep was instantly ripped from her thoughts and she darted forward to grab him before he could cover up. ¡°Have you noticed this?¡± she asked him.

    Tenebres¡¯s only response was a confused, ¡°Hmm?¡±

    Dancing up and down Tenebres¡¯s arms were pale scars, the remnants of his Blood Magic augment. Stronger healing potions could be so potent that they didn¡¯t even leave behind scars, but Tenebres and Allana relied on the cheap, often-watered down healing potions commonly available in Lowrun, which were able to close the open wounds but left behind the numerous silvery scars that covered Tenebres¡¯s limbs.

    But something about them had changed. Allana traced her fingers over a series of them, smiling a little at the little goosebumps that ran up Tenebres¡¯s arm from her touch. ¡°They¡¯re connecting¡­¡± she observed. ¡°They almost look like letters or something, some sort of symbols.¡±

    ¡°Runes, maybe,¡± Tenebres suggested. They were straight in some places, almost jagged, while others curved in swooping, serpentine patterns.

    Allana looked up at him, her face serious. ¡°Your magic is slowly engraving ominous runes on your skin. That¡­ doesn''t seem great.¡±

    Tenebres shrugged and pulled away, sliding his arms under the sheet self-consciously. ¡°Allana, we spent yesterday seeing how many different kinds of malicious demons I could summon and control. By comparison, some new marks on my arms aren¡¯t really shaking me up.¡±

    Allana sighed and stood back up, sorting through the pile of discarded clothing next to the bed. ¡°Just¡­ promise me we¡¯ll look at them with Geoffrey, alright?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Tenebres agreed, one hand flying up to catch his sleeveless leather tunic as she threw it at him. The tight leather garment emphasized his unique figure instead of hiding it, even leaving the bottom of his smooth stomach bare. ¡°Looks like we might be going to see him today anyways.¡±

    Allana looked at him quizzically, and the boy gestured towards the door with his chin. There, just past the door jam, was a folded note. It was Geoffrey¡¯s most common way to get in touch with them on a day they weren¡¯t expected to drop by his home.

    Allana sighed. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Only one thing it could be.¡±

    Allana nodded, and started dressing more briskly. It was shaping up to be a long day.

    #

    ¡°His name is Sloan.¡± Geoffrey was all business when the two showed up, his usual flamboyant clothing discarded in favor of a tight black ensemble with a cloak draped over top. From the way the cloak hung, occasionally stirring as if in a nonexistent wind, Allana immediately pegged it as a magical garment, and she had no doubt the seemingly simple clothing underneath was enchanted as well. ¡°A fishmonger on Sand Street.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Tenebres said, arching an eyebrow at Allana, ¡°Sand Street isn¡¯t too far from Coral Street, right?¡±

    ¡°Good guess,¡± Allana confirmed. ¡°Only a couple blocks away.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Tenebres nodded, thinking things over outloud. ¡°So Ryehardt and his crew are out on a normal fishing trip, but they get attacked by this ¡®fishman,¡¯ whatever it was.¡±

    ¡°A merrow,¡± Geoffrey explained. ¡°That¡¯s the only outsider I know of that fits the description.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so they get attacked by a merrow,¡± Tenebres continued. ¡°Ryehardt, like everyone else in Lowrun, isn¡¯t exactly on the up and up, so he had some battle-gifted on board, and they managed to kill this thing.¡±

    ¡°Are these things strong?¡± Allana asked Geoffrey.

    ¡°Depends on the kind. If I had to guess, it was likely a lesser monster, though it¡¯s hard to say how strong it was in that rank. Could¡¯ve been up there with that darkmaw you fought, or it could¡¯ve been closer to the bottom of the rank.¡±

    ¡°But either way, an outsider in the bay is a big deal, right?¡±

    Allana nodded. In the time they had known each other, she had come to the conclusion that Tenebres was far, far more intelligent than he acted. He had a mind like a razor, and she was more happy to let him figure this puzzle out while she provided the context he needed.

    ¡°The bay has the occasional monster. A ship catches a shellfang or something like that and the wardens have to come down from Highwalk to investigate. But outsiders in the bay are unheard of.¡±

    ¡°So assumably, Ryehardt knows that this outsider is a big deal. He keeps the corpse, and tells his crew to keep quiet about it.¡±

    ¡°Only Telik catches wind anyways,¡± Allana interjected. As always, the thought of the crimelord stirred up a stew of hate and guilt and anxiety in her chest.

    ¡°How?¡± Tenebres asked.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter how,¡± Geoffrey commented. ¡°He just did.¡±

    ¡°His job is to know things,¡± Allana pointed out. ¡°I doubt even the Rogue knows all of his sources. What matters is that he found out, and he wanted to keep it quiet too. He told Ryehardt that he was going to buy the corpse off him and get rid of it.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Merrow aren¡¯t usually that dangerous on their own,¡± Geoffrey said, ¡°but they could indicate something more, a merrow ancient or some other Feral World beast, outsiders strong enough to threaten Telik¡¯s hag partner.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s ignoring the business implications,¡± Allana mused. ¡°An outsider in the bay means official attention. Wardens, merchant guards, Highwalk investigating the port. It¡¯s bad for his business.¡±

    ¡°So he had plenty of reason to want the outsider kept quiet,¡± Tenebres concluded. ¡°Once Telik¡¯s people took the body away, it would be gone. So this Sloan character attacks the ship in the night, kills the guards, and takes the corpse for himself before Telik can.¡±

    ¡°That fishmonger we talked to knew about the body too,¡± Allana said. ¡°No matter how hard Ryehardt and Telik tried, there was no way to keep word of something like this from the rumor mill. If Sloan¡¯s a fishmonger, it¡¯s easy enough for him to catch wind and take advantage of it.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± Tenebres asked, finally looking at Geoffrey. ¡°Sloan must¡¯ve known he was stirring up trouble doing something like this. ¡°What makes this merrow thing worth the risk?¡±

    ¡°Keep in mind, I¡¯m far from an expert on this,¡± Geoffrey said. ¡°Merrow get handled most often by Westerlen wardens in the Tidal Wastes. To my understanding, their most unique trait is their ability to manipulate life magic. They can manipulate and control the sea monsters of their home world, and even foster whole clutches of eggs at a time.

    ¡°If I had to guess, the uniquely warped life magic of a merrow makes them useful in some way to Sloan¡¯s necromancy. Given how long we¡¯ve been hunting him, he¡¯s likely had time to turn that body into some sort of unique, powerful undead. So¡­ This is going to be a job for all three of us.¡±

    Tenebres nodded, his own face serious. He gave Allana a worried look, his eyes darting down to his arms. They had stopped at a market before coming to Geoffrey''s, buying the boy a pair of long gloves that matched his black leather top and covering the worst of the scars. The assassin had launched right into this discussion without noting them¨Cand if things were as bad as he said, this wasn¡¯t the time for figuring out the newest development of Tenebres¡¯s gift.

    Tenebres had been right, she supposed, when he claimed that compared to summoning demons, some weird symbols on his arms didn¡¯t really compare. She probably didn¡¯t have anything to worry about.

    Right?

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan, then?¡± Allana asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to give you the directions to Sloan¡¯s shop,¡± Geoffrey told her. He tossed her a thin bandolier with half a dozen vials of bright blue liquid on it. Focus potions. ¡°You¡¯ll veil yourself and watch for the day. Make sure he¡¯s in there until nightfall, and that he¡¯s alone. There¡¯s a contact tab in there¨Conce the sun is down and he¡¯s the only one in the shop, you break it and Tenebres and I will join you.

    ¡°We¡¯ll go in together. I¡¯ll take the biggest undead, whatever he made using the servitor. That¡¯ll leave you two to handle Sloan himself, along with whatever else he has on hand to defend himself.¡± Geoffrey brandished another couple vials and tossed them to Tenebres. ¡°Restoration and healing potions, the best I could afford. If he has too many other undead, don¡¯t be afraid to call up some imps to deal with them.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Allana could see the anxiety in Tenebres¡¯s eyes, but he slipped the vials into a pocket.

    ¡°Try to take him alive, but don¡¯t take any chances,¡± Geoffrey instructed them. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to get a good read on his level, but Sloan is likely at least Apprentice, if not Initiate.¡±

    ¡°Initiate?¡± Tenebres asked, alarm raising his voice by a couple octaves.

    Allana reached out to pat his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Initiate or not, my Sneak Attack can get through his defenses. And once my poison is doing its work, it¡¯s just a matter of time.¡±

    ¡°Exactly right,¡± Geoffrey agreed. ¡°If he proves stronger than Apprentice, just stay on the defensive. Keep him from running and try to let the poison run its course. Once I handle the undead, I¡¯ll step in to help.¡±

    The boy looked far from encouraged, but he nodded shakily. ¡°Right¡­ I¡¯m just playing the distraction. To a necromancer. Who might be two levels higher than me. And who definitely killed his way through a ship of alert battle-gifted.¡±

    Allana grimaced and patted his shoulder again. ¡°No, we¡¯re playing distraction. It¡¯ll be fine, don¡¯t worry.¡±

    Tenebres smiled wanly, but his normally gray skin looked even more pale than usual.

    ¡°Okay. Any questions?¡± Geoffrey looked between them. After a moment of silence, he nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s do this then. Allana, you head over now. It¡¯s about a third of the way down Sand Street, there¡¯s an old sign out front. A few buildings down is an abandoned netmender¡¯s shop that Tenebres and I will post up in.¡±

    Allana¡¯s hand slid down Tenebres¡¯s arm, and she briefly wrapped her fingers around his, trying to reassure him. Geoffrey made a point of glancing away from the brief show of affection between the two.

    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    #

    Allana¡¯s watch went off more or less without a hitch. She spent the day lounging in an alley across from Sloan¡¯s Fishery, where a crooked wall was overlapped by the shade of an awning. Combined with her Obscuring Veil, she was all but invisible.

    [Obscuring Veil] - Active, Illusion - Manifest an illusion that partially masks you from conventional senses. Veil is most effective in darkness or other obscuring conditions. Minor focus cost recurs as long as the veil is active.

    Every hour or so, she tossed back one of the focus potions Geoffrey had given her, staving off the headache that came from overusing her stealth abilities. Fortunately, she didn¡¯t exactly need her best veil to avoid notice. Like Algus, Sloan¡¯s shop was far from popular, as if passersby could instinctively feel the presence of the fishmonger¡¯s dark magic and went out of their way to avoid it. People seemed to have a habit of turning away before they reached the Fishery, and Allana felt sure that if she couldn¡¯t count the number of people that walked by the shop on her fingers, it was only barely.

    She couldn¡¯t help but wonder how things were going for Tenebres. This would be as long as he had ever spent alone with Geoffrey, and it was no doubt awkward and tense for him. She recalled the obvious anxiety on his face and frowned. Once this was over, she¡¯d have to make sure she took care of him for the night, helped him feel better.

    That was an odd thought. Not so long ago, the idea of planning to comfort someone would¡¯ve been completely alien to her, but Tenebres had somehow worn through her emotional defenses more quickly than she would¡¯ve thought possible. Idly, she entertained the notion that maybe his obvious feelings for her weren¡¯t so far-fetched after all.

    Finally, the sun sank towards the horizon, and Allana began composing herself for battle, sinking into the assassin¡¯s mindset. She reached for the last two slots on the bandolier Geoffrey had given her. She drank the last of the focus potions, ensuring she¡¯d be at the top of her form for the coming fight, then snapped the small ceramic contact tab. One of the simplest pieces of artifice in existence, the piece of ceramic was engraved with tiny, simple runes that would transfer the energy of the snap to its twin, which Geoffrey had with him.

    The devices were simple, but useful. They had limited range, and couldn¡¯t convey a complex message, but for subtly sending a signal, there was nothing better. Allana knew that even as she broke her tab, Geoffrey¡¯s would do the same, telling him that it was time to move.

    Sure enough, it was only minutes before Tenebres and Geoffrey emerged from their own hiding place and briskly made their way down the street.

    Allana dropped her veil and stepped out to meet them. Her other concerns were forgotten now, her face neutral and impassive. ¡°He didn¡¯t have any customers all day,¡± she reported, ¡°but he¡¯s in there. I¡¯ve seen him come up and do some actual work, fileting fish and keeping his chilltops fresh. There¡¯s a door behind the counter, looks like it leads downstairs.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Geoffrey walked towards the door, Allana and Tenebres close behind. Tenebres had his own game face on, and if it wasn¡¯t as solid as Geoffrey and Allana¡¯s, his eerie features made up for the difference. Between his grayish skin, white hair, red eyes, and black leather ensemble, the boy could pass as a necromancer himself.

    Allana turned her eyes to Geoffrey. Despite months working with the powerful assassin, she had never truly seen him in action. Even in their practice bouts, or when they had tested Tenebres¡¯s imps, Allana was sure that the Adept assassin had never used his full strength. But this was a real job, a true fight against a necromancer, and she was curious to see the man go all out.

    The fishmonger¡¯s door was solid oak. Like storefronts in the area, it was designed to be locked with a drop bar from the inside to prevent robberies. As such, Allana expected Geoffrey to turn to the large window to the side of the entrance, a louder but easier ingress. The powerfully built man didn¡¯t bother to turn his steps, however. He moved his arm in what seemed like a single motion ending with his long, gracefully curved sword held out to one side. There was a brief humming noise and the thick wooden door simply collapsed, falling to the floor in four uneven pieces, and Geoffrey walked in without breaking his stride.

    The fishmonger¡¯s store was laid out very traditionally. A low counter cut off the back third of the floor, and a pair of chilltops atop them boasted an array of fish and shellfish, butchered and ready for purchase. A series of black chalk signs proclaimed prices in a sloppy scrawl.

    Geoffrey stopped for a moment. He slowly turned his head, surveying the room, and Allana watched the line of his back and shoulder stay perfectly straight, perfectly prepared. When the skeleton finally attacked, Allana barely saw it leap from behind the counter before it too fell to the ground, its barnacle-encrusted skull sheared perfectly down the middle while a half dozen cleaved rib bones fell to the ground.

    ¡°Skeleton. That means he has the gift of bone,¡± Geoffrey told them, his voice calm. No, Allana corrected herself. Not calm. Empty. Toneless. She hadn¡¯t even seen him attack the skeleton. ¡°Tenebres, your magic should be fairly effective against them, they don¡¯t take well to blunt force. Aim for the heads. Allana, veil.¡±

    The master assassin didn¡¯t wait for acknowledgement. He turned immediately to the door behind the counter. Another movement, a humming sound, and that door too collapsed. Allana paused long enough to wrap her Obscuring Veil around herself. At that moment, Geoffrey dashed down the stairs, sword ready. Tenebres licked his lips and ran after him, and Allana invisibly followed behind them, daggers ready.

 Chapter 59 - Assassins

    Tenebres managed to ignore how dry his mouth was, the anxiety fluttering in his stomach like a hundred dire bats, the sweat coating his palms, and the pounding of his heart. He couldn¡¯t quite do the same for the throbbing hunger of the gift of the void, but he accepted that as an unfortunate necessity. The formulae of his prepared spells danced through his mind, distracting him from his disturbed emotions with their cold, solid logic, mimicking the brand of the mage, which surrounded his void brand with a circle of dispassionate magic.

    The staircase that led into the fishmonger¡¯s basement was dark enough that Tenebres considered casting a light, but short enough that he didn¡¯t have time to actually do so. He was thankful for that, sure as he was that he¡¯d need every scrap of mystical energy he could get for the fight to come.

    The basement of Sloan¡¯s Fishery proved to be a cold, damp cellar. The stone lining the walls and floor were wet with accumulated moisture, enough so that moss had begun to grow in a slick green coating. The cold air was rancid with salt and mildew and dead meat, thanks to what looked like hundreds of pounds of discarded fish entrails. Carcasses lay everywhere, some hanging on massive hooks dangling from the ceiling, others mounted on chilltops apparently insufficient to keep them from rotting. Over all, the cold, the stink, and the darkness left Tenebres with the disturbing sense that the basement felt the same as drowning in the waters of the bay.

    ¡°Hmmm? Who¡¯s this then?¡± a voice rumbled in an absent question, even as a shape at the far end of the basement turned to face them.

    Sloan proved to be a corpulent mound of a man. Easily six feet tall, the necromancer¡¯s pocked gray skin, bald head, and bloated gut left him looking more like a drowned corpse than a living person. Rather than look disturbed at the sight of two assassins entering his sanctum, the necromancer smiled, revealing a mouth with far too few yellowing, crooked teeth, and he simply moved a meaty hand. Two of the massive shark carcasses behind Sloan seemed to explode outwards in a storm of blood and chum as a hail of bone shot at Geoffrey.

    Or rather, they shot at where Geoffrey was. The assassin had reacted faster than Tenebres would¡¯ve thought possible and he dove to the side before the attack could hit him. Even as he slid across the mildewed floor, the assassin was turning, orienting himself back towards Sloan. But before he could attack the necromancer, another pile of carcasses stirred¨Cand then a massive crab claw, larger than Tenebres¡¯s whole body, shot out of the mess to clamp around Geoffrey¡¯s body at the waist.

    Tenebres threw up a hand, and he felt the runes carved into his arm begin to weep blood once more as he sent an enhanced, blood-red force missile at the oversized pincer. His aim proved true, and the bolt of crimson energy struck the joint of the claw just before it completely closed. The impact forced the claw back open a scant inch, but that was all Geoffrey needed, and in a fluid motion Tenebres¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t quite follow, the assassin pulled himself free to crouch atop the bright red mandible itself.

    The pile began to shift and move, revealing the shape within: a horrifying combination of fish, man, and crab that Tenebres was too distracted to examine any more closely as Sloan turned towards him.

    Acting purely on instinct, Tenebres threw up his kinetic barrier. The normally invisible disc of energy lit up, turning force to light and sound as more bone projectiles thudded into it. After a moment, the attacks paused and Tenebres dropped the shield even as he hurled another force missile. Remembering Allana¡¯s advice to conserve his own energy, Tenebres didn¡¯t use his blood magic to enhance the next bolt of force he threw at the necromancer, leaving it a pale blue. Sloan lifted a slab of an arm to block it, but still rocked back for a moment under the impact.

    That was the moment Allana struck.

    #

    Allana¡¯s patience paid off. Hiding under her veil, she had crept across the cellar in perfect silence as Geoffrey drew Sloan¡¯s attention. She had to dodge just as much as he did when the necromancer turned two of the dangling shark corpses into explosive attacks, and when the horror had seized Geoffrey, she nearly broke her veil to save him. But Tenebres reacted quickly enough, buying the assassin precious moments even as he drew Sloan¡¯s ire. As the fishmonger hurled another carcass worth of fish bones at Tenebres, she crept closer, and when the mage responded with his own projectile, she seized the chance her friend had given her.

    [Sneak Attack] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Can only be used on targets unaware of your location. Lesser stamina cost.

    A single lunge carried her into striking distance of the corpulent man, and her veil fell to tatters even as her daggers struck out. Her brass dagger dug a long furrow in his bicep while her iron dagger pierced his chest through his blood-stained apron¨Cand then stopped, not even a full inch into his chest.

    Allana¡¯s eyes went wide as the man whirled on her. A butcher¡¯s cleaver swung at her, and she couldn¡¯t reverse her momentum in time to dodge the attack. A jolt of pain exploded in her abdomen as the filthy blade parted her skin. It hit at a bad angle, and that was the only reason it left a bloody gash in her side and sent her flying rather than carving into her guts themselves.

    The grotesque necromancer¡¯s lip twitched in a snarl, and he reached up to tug his stained apron off. Underneath was a thick pad of brown-ish blue carapace, curved around his body like a breastplate. There was a shallow nick right over his heart, where her dagger had lacked the power to punch through the armor. Given the potency of her Sneak Attack, the bizarre defense must have had some type of magical component to it.

    ¡°That was a mistake.¡± The man¡¯s voice was as disgusting as the rest of him, thick and gurgling, like his lungs were filled with water. Allana recalled Algus¡¯s sloughing skin and sunken eyes; the warping effects of a necromantic gift that Geoffrey had described. Apparently, this man had his gift for much longer than the cadaverous Algus, corrupting his body as much as his soul.

    Allana¡¯s entire right side was ablaze with pain, but her gift of poison gave her a resilience boon, and she somehow managed to get to her feet and lift her daggers as the necromancer swung his cleaver once more. She parried the first blow, if only barely, but a shock ran through her. Sloan was strong, and his attacks consistently targeted her wounded side. Allana was soon sure he had both a strength and coordination boon, and with every moment of desperate defense, she was more and more convinced that the man was indeed an Initiate, with the enhanced attributes that came with that level.

    Her only advantages were her natural speed and her own skill as she barely managed to keep the necromancer from fileting her. Just need to stay on the defensive, she reminded herself. I got him in the arm, that means my poison is working on him.

    Already, she could see the edges of the wound begin to turn a sickly black and yellow as her most potent poison began to spread through Sloan¡¯s body, but the toxin was attacking his resilience, not his more offensive attributes. Until it dragged his enhanced fortitude back to human levels, he would remain just as dangerous as ever.

    A particularly brutal cut sent her thicker iron dagger, the one she had been relying on to meet his swings, flying away, and Allana knew she couldn¡¯t afford the instant it would take to reconjure it. Her side continued to burn, sapping her strength as blood ran down her side. The cleaver rose high for another cut¨Cwhen a crimson bolt suddenly slammed into the man¡¯s side, staggering him.

    ¡°GET AWAY FROM HER!¡±

    #

    Geoffrey quickly came to the conclusion that things weren¡¯t going according to plan. The skeletal horror was proving far more powerful than he had expected. The bones of the merrow servitor had been crudely attached at the waist to half a dozen long, tapered crustacean legs, large enough to match its giant claw. And when Geoffrey did manage to close in on the horror¡¯s main body, it turned out that the servitor¡¯s remaining human-esque arm had been left unmodified, leaving it armed with long, dextrous claws.

    Worse, the undead was clearly of moderate rank, and imbued with notable potency, judging by the way his sword seemed to slide off the bone and shell body of the monster. Geoffrey had been confident that the fishmonger had the gift of flesh, as Algus had. Not only would both his sword and Allana¡¯s dagger be of more use against monsters with flesh and muscle, he had never considered that the exoskeletons of crabs and lobster would count as bones in the creation of a skeleton like this, expanding the capabilities of Sloan¡¯s creations.

    Geoffrey hadn¡¯t had much chance to look back at Allana and Tenebres, but from the glimpses he had seen, it wasn¡¯t going great for them, either. He needed to end this fight, and fast, but that was proving a difficult proposition.

    As the giant claw hammered down on him, Geoffrey twirled to one side and struck, but he was unable to get close enough to the horror to bring his most lethal abilities to bear. His sword struck out and snipped off another leg at the joint, the second limb he had managed to cripple, but it was on a different side from the first, and the hexapodal monster adapted quickly enough to the loss.

    The horror quickly rotated around to face him again, and Geoffrey grimaced. He just needed to cripple the legs of one side.

    The assassin frowned as he thought of something. It would take some set up, but if he could manage it¡­

    #

    ¡°GET AWAY FROM HER!¡± Tenebres snarled. He lifted another hand in a harsh gesture, and sent another crimson bolt of kinetic energy at the necromancer, finally forcing the corpulent man to turn towards him and allowing Allana to vanish behind a veil.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Tenebres felt a throb in his chest, and he was sure the fishmonger was about to use some other necromantic trick¨Cso he didn¡¯t give him the chance. He whirled his hand in a tight circle, and another missile of force suddenly struck Sloan on the shoulder from behind. Then another, from below him, and a third, at a right angle to the first. Then a fourth, from behind and above this time.

    Formulae danced through Tenebres¡¯s mind and blood ran in rivers down his arms as he threw more and more magic at the necromancer, never from the same place twice, always angled to avoid his chitinous breastplate. Each missile was little more effective than a thrown rock, but as long as he kept the barrage of magic up, the necromancer was unable to respond, unable to bring his own dark magic into the mix.

    But Tenebres knew he couldn¡¯t keep the spells going for long ever. He could feel scars opening on his shoulders and working their way down his chest as he pushed his Blood Magic farther than he ever had. But slowly, the barrage of attacks dwindled as Tenebres felt his mystical well nearing its bottom, finally giving Sloan a chance to respond. His face a rictus of hate and anger, the necromancer gestured with a closed fist, and the fish carcasses piled behind Tenebres began to move.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Tenebres snarled as first one, then another skeletal arm pushed out of the pile. He was all but out of mystical energy, and his entire body seared from the pain his own magic had caused him. The boy tried to turn to face this new threat, but gasped as his body suddenly faltered. He fell to his knees, and knew that his body was too ravaged by his own magic to stand back up.

    That was fine by him. His hand reached into the pouch at his waist, and he pulled out one of the vials Geoffrey had given him. The red potion within glittered with its own internal golden light. Tenebres knew it was powerful, expensive, as different from the normal healing potions he used as gloam whiskey was from watered-down swill. He smiled down at the potion, which could instantly make him whole again¨Cthen he slid it across the floor, towards the emptiest part of the cellar.

    Unable to make it back to his feet, Tenebres watched as four more of the barnacle-encrusted skeletons, like those Geoffrey had dispatched upstairs, crawled free from the piles of rotting fish. The human bones were augmented by fish parts¨Ca pair of shark jaws on one, a lobster claw on another, and so on.

    There was no other choice.

    Tenebres gave in to the yawning hunger in his chest.

    #

    Allana crawled away from the vicious necromancer as quickly as she could, hidden by a clumsy veil. Even with her enhanced resilience, the cut in her side dripped more and more blood with each passing moment, robbing her of both the strength and will to keep fighting.

    Slumped against the damp wall of the cellar, she watched her friends fight. Geoffrey danced in circles around the skeletal horror he fought, unable to land a decisive blow even as Tenebres carved his body into a bleeding mess in a desperate effort to buy time. She watched both fights progress, and knew that neither would be enough. Sure enough, Tenebres¡¯s strength soon began to flag, and Geoffrey was still unable to disengage from his own foe.

    As more skeletons began to emerge, and Tenebres pulled out his futile healing potion, Allana grimaced and forced herself to her feet. The short reprieve Tenebres had given her hadn¡¯t been enough. She was weaker than ever. Sloan would kill her within moments of her re-entering the fray, and even healed and aided by his imps, Tenebres couldn¡¯t fight the necromancer and skeletons at the same time. Sloan and his creations had simply proven too powerful for them.

    Allana knew her skillset well enough. Pain or no, she could still run. She had plenty of focus remaining for a veil, and Sloan probably wouldn¡¯t chase her into the street. She had enough blood left in her to make it to an alchemist, she was sure. And there was every chance Geoffrey would still triumph even without them¨Cbut there was no way Tenebres would survive if she ran.

    Allana thought back to that alley, after she had killed Algus. She had been numb from overusing her focus, and Geoffrey had found them. But Tenebres hadn¡¯t known who he was. He¡¯d thought they had been caught, by the watch maybe, or by an ally of Algus they hadn¡¯t known about. The boy could¡¯ve run then¨Cbut he had stuck beside her, had decided to go down fighting rather than abandon her.

    And for the first time in her life, Allana understood why he had done that. She knew what it was to have someone worth dying beside.

    So she staggered to her feet, conjured her dagger, and prepared to go down fighting.

    And then Tenebres slid his healing potion across the floor, as if he had somehow known exactly where she was.

    Allana¡¯s eyes went wide.

    She had never considered that simple, even obvious, move. After a life living for herself, surviving on the streets of Lowrun, it had never once occurred to her that Tenebres could choose to ignore his pain, to bear the weight of his wounds so that she could be healed.

    Allana lunged for the potion as the fight continued around her.

    #

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Stamina attribute sacrificed

    Minor fiend red imp successfully invoked

    Kill the skeletons, Tenebres ordered the imp as it appeared. He felt a surge of malicious glee from the diminutive fiend, and it howled with delight as it breathed a gout of flames at the undead. Tenebres turned to face Sloan briefly, and concentrated again.

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Coordination attribute sacrificed

    Minor fiend tentacular fright successfully invoked

    The small ball of writhing, knotted tentacles appeared in front of Sloan, and Tenebres didn¡¯t need to give it any orders as it did what it did best. Tentacles shot out, coiling around the fishmonger¡¯s arms and legs, binding him even as Allana¡¯s wound healed.

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Strength attribute sacrificed

    Minor fiend green imp successfully invoked

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Speed attribute sacrificed

    Minor fiend blue imp successfully invoked

    Break the bones, he ordered the two new imps. The undersized demons shouted their own cackles of hateful glee and lunged forward to help their red counterpart. Tenebres knew the imps couldn¡¯t kill the skeletons alone, any more than the fright could occupy Sloan for more than a moment, but if there was one thing he had learned while training with Geoffrey and Allana, it was that a moment was everything to an assassin.

    His arm felt weak and filled with lead as he reached back into his belt pouch. Every motion of movement was pure agony, but with his speed, stamina, strength, and coordination all drained, he couldn¡¯t move any faster.

    Note to self, Tenebres reflected, next time, take out the restoration potion before invoking.

    #

    Allana watched as Sloan forced his slab of an arm up despite the tentacle fiend¡¯s interference, and an awkward cut severed the tentacles keeping him from swinging his cleaver cleanly. That done, he made short work of the minor fiend, but he wasted precious moments turning it to calamari. As the euphoric relief of the healing potion sang through Allana, she could feel the odd itching sensation of her flesh knitting itself back together. With each moment she felt stronger, as the potion worked to replenish her lost blood.

    By the time Sloan finished with the tentacle ball, Allana was fully healed. The corpulent necromancer looked around, hate in his eyes as he hunted for her, but Allana had already refreshed her veil as she healed. In his confusion, it was simple enough to land another Sneak Attack¨Cand this time, neither blow was wasted. Her daggers avoided his armor, and even as one blade carved into his meaty thigh, the other dug into his shoulder, on the same side she had cut him earlier. The fishmonger brought his cleaver to bear quickly enough, but this time, things were different.

    Wounded and now with even more poison in his system, Sloan was growing weaker with every passing moment, while Allana was as healthy as she had been at the start of the fight, leaving her able to leverage her superior skill against the lumbering Initiate. Sure, she had a rapidly swelling headache from her fast draining focus, and her second Sneak Attack had only delivered her weakest poison, as she had all but drained her quintessence pool, but she was in control now, and it was just a matter of waiting for the poison to do its work and the boys to finish their fights.

    #

    By the time Tenebres managed to drink the restoration potion, the blue imp had been torn apart and the red imp was on its last legs. Between them, they had managed to take down one of the mangled skeletons, but the green imp was now outnumbered three-to-one.

    Still, the fiends had done their job. The restoration potion went to work instantly, and while the pain of Tenebres¡¯s wounds remained, he was once more able to use his body¨Ceven if every movement brought a fresh wave of agony with it. As Geoffrey had told him during their long wait together, he had bought a potion potent enough that it restored not just Tenebres¡¯s attributes, but his mystical well too.

    Gritting his teeth, the boy lifted a hand to loose more force missiles. The projectiles remained their default blue this time, as he had no wish nor need to further ruin his body with his Blood Magic. The kinetic projectiles still packed enough punch to easily smash through the skulls of the remaining skeletons.

    Tenebres¡¯s face turned in a rictus grin as the last undead minion fell, and hissing from the pain, he turned enough to see the rest of the cellar. Fully healed now, Allana had the necromancer on the back foot, Sloan¡¯s seemingly impervious resilience finally fading under the touch of her poison. Geoffrey continued his dance with the horrifying mass of the servitor, but its body showed countless bloody cuts and nicks, attesting to the assassin¡¯s progress against it.

    With a surge of hate that matched his last imp¡¯s emotion, Tenebres sent the heavily-clawed green imp at the skeletal horror.

    #

    Geoffrey had far more experience fighting powerful gifted than powerful monsters, and he felt himself becoming more and more frustrated as he was unable to make the perfect opening necessary to end the fight.

    Until suddenly, the opening was made for him, as one of Tenebres¡¯s minor fiends leaped at the skeletal horror, cackling with glee. It died instantly, of course, the undead¡¯s giant crab claw cleanly snipping the imp in two, but it bought Geoffrey the precious moment he needed.

    A pair of steps lined him up right, and the master assassin dashed forward in a single, lightning-fast strike.

    [Superior Lunge] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Grants a brief major boost to speed. Moderate stamina cost.

    His enhanced dash brought his sword cleanly through both of the remaining legs on the monster¡¯s left side, as well as its long, clawed arm. Helpless, the undead teetered to one side, and Geoffrey stabbed upwards at the horror¡¯s head.

    [Lethal Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by five tiers. Can only be used once per day, and only after five minutes studying your target. Major focus cost.

    The most powerful attack granted by the gift of the assassin was more than enough to counter any natural magic in the horror¡¯s bones, and its inhuman skull didn¡¯t shatter so much as crumble, reduced to dust by the sheer potency of his attack.

    ¡°NOOO!¡±

    Geoffrey whirled at the sound of Sloan¡¯s scream, just in time to see the stricken necromancer lift a hand towards the destroyed horror¨Ceven as Allana¡¯s slender copper dagger stabbed straight through his eye. There were limits to what even necromancy and an enhanced resilience attribute could accomplish, and Allana¡¯s attack finally pushed Sloan over the edge. With a final shudder, the fishmonger¡¯s bloated body collapsed to the ground, and the cellar fell silent.

 Chapter 60 - Tenebres

    ¡°Well,¡± Tenebres huffed, his voice as exhausted as the rest of him, ¡°that was certainly something.¡±

    Even with the help of the restoration potion he had taken, Tenebres felt weak, unable to even stand. He had leaned on his Blood Magic more thoroughly than ever before to defeat Sloan, and it had proven to be more draining than even his sequential invocations. For the moment, he decided it was easier to just stay where he was, kneeling on the floor.

    Or at least, that was his plan, prior to promptly being bowled over by Allana. The taller girl¡¯s sinuous muscles pressed him to the floor gently as her mouth found his in a heated and unexpected kiss. The pain blazing down his arms and chest didn¡¯t compare to the fire her mouth ignited in him, and Tenebres found himself returning the kiss, his lips parting eagerly to admit her tongue.

    The fight, the fear, the danger, the horrifying cellar they were in, the rune-shaped scars stinging his flesh, all was forgotten as the two hungrily kissed, as if trying to reassure themselves the other was okay after the fight. For once, neither of them let their anxieties and fears and hurts show, and instead they simply melted into each other¡¯s embrace.

    For a moment.

    Until Geoffrey cleared his throat, loudly, and Allana suddenly pulled away, leaving Tenebres all but gasping for air.

    ¡°Not that I¡¯m not charmed by this display,¡± the assassin said, ¡°but we should probably get him to a healer before he bleeds out.¡±

    Allana flushed, her already purple skin turning a bright magenta, and she shot a guilty look down at Tenebres.

    He responded with a shaky smile, but he couldn¡¯t keep the surprise out of his eyes. The sudden kiss was just so unlike her! Knowing that Geoffrey¡¯s interruption would make the girl reticent once more, Tenebres just arched an eyebrow in a silent question. What was that?

    Allana gave him a tiny shake of her head. Later.

    ¡°Here,¡± Geoffrey offered, kneeling next to Tenebres¡¯s prone form and offering him a small vial. ¡°It¡¯s not the strongest, but you¡¯re going to need more than a potion anyways.¡±

    The older man¡¯s gaze shifted to Allana. ¡°Do you know Alleghy¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. It¡¯s only a couple blocks away. Get him there. The potion should keep him from losing any ground while you¡¯re moving. Tell Alleghy I sent you.¡±

    Tenebres sipped at the brew, not feeling up to tossing the whole sour, weak potion in one gulp. Allana asked the obvious question while he was occupied.

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to stay here for now.¡±

    Geoffrey¡¯s curt tone made it obvious he didn¡¯t want any further questions, but Allana pressed him anyway. ¡°Why? What do you think you¡¯re going to find?¡±

    Geoffrey gave the girl a flat look. ¡°We still don¡¯t know who¡¯s giving out these favors, and Sloan had the gift of bone instead of the gift of flesh I had expected. That means either there¡¯s a second outsider in play, or that the one we¡¯re hunting is stronger than I thought.¡±

    ¡°And what? You think Sloan wrote down their name somewhere?¡± Allana asked sarcastically.

    ¡°You never know what you might find,¡± Geoffrey¡¯s voice was distant, eyes roaming the viscera-coated cavern for something unseen.

    Allana rolled her eyes at the man¡¯s enigmatic words. Tenebres, meanwhile, choked down the last of the potion and cleared his throat, managing to croak out, ¡°Is it a gift?¡±

    Geoffrey sighed. ¡°Yes. A remnant of my misspent youth.¡± Allana started to ask another question, but the assassin lifted a finger. ¡°No more questions. Go, now, before Tenebres¡¯s wounds open back up.¡±

    Allana made a sour face, but cast a reluctant look down at Tenebres¨Cand, more noticeably, at the blood that had soaked through his leather tunic. The potion had stopped the worst of the bleeding, but otherwise accomplished little more than scabbing up his wounds and taking the edge off of the pain.

    Tenebres nodded at her, silently agreeing with Geoffrey, and the stubborn girl blew out a breath.

    ¡°Fine, let¡¯s go.¡±

    #

    ¡°So¡­ what was that all about?¡± Tenebres asked. Even through the pain his blood magic had inflicted on him, he managed to add a little bit of teasing to his words.

    Allana had one arm under his, supporting some of his weight as they staggered down the streets.Night had fallen in full while they fought Sloan, and the dockside neighborhoods were largely quiet. With a thick fog already rolling in off the bay, the two fledgling assassins didn¡¯t need to do much more than avoid the more raucous bars to keep from being noticed.

    Allana cleared her throat uncomfortably, and Tenebres felt a small smile tugging at his lips. Until he stumbled on a misplaced cobble, at least, and a gasp of pain ripped from his mouth instead.

    ¡°Seriously? You want to talk about this right now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest Allana, I¡¯ll take just about any conversation that can distract me at the moment. If you have a better topic, feel free.¡±

    He felt her tense against him as they walked before she finally asked, ¡°So what gift do you think Geoffrey is using down there?¡±

    Tenebres huffed a shallow breath at Allana¡¯s perpetual evasion. Even after the time they had spent together and how close they had gotten, the streetborn wraith had a hard time expressing her emotions, too used to keeping them to herself or seeing them as a weakness.

    Still, he knew that limping down the street while slowly bleeding out in her arms was not the time for that conversation, so he accepted the diversion. ¡°Is it the gift of the assassin?¡±

    Allana shook her head, her hair brushing against his shoulder and coming away tacky with blood. ¡°From what he¡¯s told me, the gift of the assassin is more stealth and damage than anything else, not information gathering.¡±

    ¡°His misspent youth¡­¡± Tenebres recalled the assassin¡¯s parting words. ¡°Do you know anything about what Geoffrey did before he became an assassin?¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s never really¡­ wait a second.¡± Allana stopped and, as he was currently dependent on her strong arms for support, Tenebres did the same. ¡°This is the place.¡±

    The storefront was the same as many others in Emeston. A shoddy wooden building, the first floor had a plain, unadorned door and a large single-pane window showing the wares within, an assortment of herbs and potions of various colors, while the second floor had the smaller, shuttered windows of a private residence. There was no sign on it, but Allana led him to the door confidently. She conjured one of her daggers and used its pommel to pound on the door.

    After a minute of the repeated knocking, there was the rasp of a lockbar being moved on the far side of the door, and it swung open just an inch, enough to show a slice of a suspicious face. Tenebres was startled to see that the man¡¯s eyes were wholly black, with neither white nor iris visible.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°What is it?¡± the man asked, his voice thick with sleep.

    ¡°What do you think it is Alleghy? We need healing!¡± Allana snapped at him.

    The door swung open a little more, enough for Tenebres to see the man¡¯s face in full. He had long features that had begun to droop with age, wrinkles and liver spots standing out on his pale northern skin, and the pair of horns curling out of his forehead spoke as much to his wraith heritage as his eyes. Those same eyes went wide as he saw Tenebres¡¯s state.

    The man looked up and down the street quickly, clearly uncertain, before Allana told him, ¡°Geoffrey sent us. He¡¯ll be along shortly.¡±

    Alleghy¡¯s gaze darted back to Allana, and he nodded curtly. ¡°Fine, fine, bring him in, quickly now.¡±

    Tenebres hobbled through the door as quickly as he could¨Cor, more accurately, Allana hauled him across the passageway while he tried not to be dead weight. Alleghy cast another suspicious glance down the street before shutting the door behind and dropping the lockbar back in place. While it looked to be a simple iron bar, Tenebres noted the subtle grooves of runes carved into it, ensuring that it would be far more secure than it appeared.

    ¡°I¡¯ll grab my supplies,¡± the man told them, ¡°take him down the hall, second door on the right, and get him laid out on the ritual table.¡±

    Tenebres stiffened at the words ¡°ritual table,¡± giving Allana an alarmed look.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she reassured him quietly. ¡°Alleghy is a healer.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m going to need a real ritual to keep you from bleeding out, so whatever you¡¯re concerned about, get over it.¡± The gaunt man gave Allana an urgent look. ¡°Get him moving.¡±

    Without waiting for an answer, Alleghy turned and proceeded up a staircase, his steps brisk.

    ¡°Great bedside manner,¡± Tenebres groused. Still, he felt the man was probably right in his assessment. The trip to the healer¡¯s shop had undone most of the work of Geoffrey¡¯s potion, and Tenebres could feel warm, sticky blood dripping down his arms and chest again.

    ¡°He¡¯s the best healer in Lowrun,¡± Allana explained as she helped him into the room Alleghy had indicated. ¡°He gets to be rude.¡±

    Tenebres winced with each movement, the pain returning in full now, if not even worse. ¡°I may have used a little too much Blood Magic,¡± he admitted, his voice tight with pain.

    ¡°You think? C¡¯mon, up you go,¡± Allana hoisted Tenebres onto the flat surface in the middle of the room. If he had been in a better headspace, he would¡¯ve been fascinated by the so-called ¡°ritual table,¡± or at least swooned at the way Allana lifted him like a limp, bloody bag of meal.

    A raised rectangle of thick, carefully glazed clay, the table sat in the center of a complex ritual diagram, a magic circle that made Kellen¡¯s void-beckoning efforts look crude and amateurish by comparison. Despite being more than a yard above the floor, the design proceeded flawlessly onto the tabletop itself, such that Tenebres felt sure, if seen from above, that the design would be perfect and uninterrupted.

    He was too distracted to think about it for very long, though. Now that he was finally laid out, he could feel his body relaxing of its own accord, and with that relaxation came increasingly free-flowing blood. With every heartbeat, Tenebres¡¯s vision darkened and pain shot through him.

    It was impossible to say how long it was before Alleghy arrived, as Tenebres lost all sense of time in the confusion and pain of his blood loss. The older wraith looked very different when he re-entered the room, dressed in clean whites, complete with an apron and mask. His body language was brisk and professional as he inspected Tenebres, lifting the boy¡¯s wrists and peeling away the fingerless gloves concealing his forearms.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Alleghy asked.

    Tenebres tried to answer, but the reply came out mush-mouthed and confused. Alleghy quieted him with a harsh look. ¡°Not you. You,¡± he pointed at Allana.

    ¡°He has a gift ability,¡± Allana explained. ¡°It hurts him when he uses it, and he overused it.¡±

    ¡°Not like any gift ability I¡¯ve ever heard of¡­¡± Alleghy mused under his breath, inspecting the scar on Tenebres¡¯s arms. ¡°Fine then, help me get this tunic off of him so I can see what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    Allana gave him a sympathetic look as she bent down, and Tenebres felt her fingers curl under the hem of his leather tunic. ¡°This is gonna hurt,¡± she warned him, ¡°but it¡¯ll be okay soon. You¡¯re safe here, and I¡¯ll stay with you.¡±

    Slowly, she began to peel his tunic up, and Tenebres couldn¡¯t help but be oddly reminded of their first time together, the feel of her fingers on his sensitive skin as she pulled his tight clothing off¡­

    And then her efforts reached one of his mildly scabbed over wounds and stuck. Getting any further forced her to pull against the tacky, half-dried blood, and suddenly Tenebres¡¯s entire world was pain. Blackness was a mercy, in comparison.

    #

    ¡°He¡¯s awake.¡±

    Tenebres blinked bleary eyes. His vision was cloudy, and only slowly came into focus. He could only just make out the wood beams overhead when Allana¡¯s face suddenly filled his field of view.

    ¡°Seo? How are you feeling?¡±

    Tenebres started to answer, and found his mouth unbelievably dry, as if he had just awakened from hours of sleep in a hot room.

    ¡°Here, he¡¯ll need water.¡± Alleghy again.

    Allana looked away, and her face backed out of his view for a moment. When she returned, he was more able to make out her features and the worry that creased them. ¡°Can you sit up?¡±

    Tenebres smacked his lips, finding them cracked and dry. He managed a nod instead, and Allana¡¯s strong, capable arms helped him into a sitting position, so that she could pass him a small tin cup of lukewarm water.

    As he sipped at the water, Tenebres realized that, besides his confusion and dry mouth, he felt surprisingly good. Even the motion of sitting up hadn¡¯t brought any pain or discomfort with it, just the almost pleasant pain of tired muscles stretching.

    With the water in him, Tenebres felt able to talk, and croaked out, ¡°How long have I been out?¡±

    ¡°A little less than an hour,¡± Allana told him.

    Tenebres¡¯s eyebrows knitted together. ¡°Less than¡­ that can¡¯t be right. I feel like I¡¯ve been asleep an entire day.¡±

    ¡°Side effect of the healing,¡± Alleghy¡¯s gruff voice told him.

    Tenebres took another sip of water, and looked around. His gaze found the healer standing over a washbasin against one wall, facing away from them as he scrubbed at something.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of healing like that.¡±

    The gaunt wraith put down the tools he was rinsing and turned back to face Tenebres and Allana, resting his hands on the rim of the basin behind him. ¡°And I¡¯ve never heard of an ability that leaves bloody runes up and down your arms when you use it.¡±

    Tenebres flushed a little at the harsh words, and the healer shook his head.

    ¡°It¡¯s an Initiate level technique I used,¡± he explained. ¡°Best for people who have a copious number of wounds like yours. I gave you a healing spell strong enough to get you stable, then used a ritual to strengthen your resilience, layered with a second to accelerate your body¡¯s natural healing. That¡¯s why you feel so tired¨Ceffectively, your body spent three days healing in the past hour.¡±

    Tenebres blinked, looking down at himself, naked aside from undergarments. Sure enough, all of the wounds he had accumulated were gone¨Calthough, in their place, he now had even more of the scrawled, runic scars Allana had noted on him earlier that day. They now extended not just up his arms, but over his shoulders and down the slender curves of his chest, stopping a few inches above his ribcage.

    ¡°The scars resisted healing,¡± Alleghy explained brusquely. ¡°I think they¡¯re a byproduct of whatever gift it is that hurt you in the first place.¡±

    Tenebres started to respond, but Allana spoke over him. ¡°They resisted healing? Do we need to be worried about that?¡±

    ¡°Without knowing the gift, I can¡¯t say for sure. But it doesn''t seem like it. Scars left behind by certain abilities aren¡¯t unheard of¨CI¡¯ve seen an augment with the gift of fire that causes burn scars to accrue in a similar way. I will say you need to be careful using that ability, however. Unless you have a resilience boon, which you obviously don¡¯t, those wounds will eventually cripple you if you keep carving yourself open that way. I¡¯d suggest you consider that, should you make it to Initiate without killing yourself.¡±

    Tenebres nodded. A gift with a resilience boon¡­ that was worth keeping in mind.

    ¡°Now,¡± Alleghy gestured at Allana with his chin, ¡°to parrot the young lady¡¯s question, how do you feel?¡±

    ¡°A little disoriented,¡± Tenebres admitted. ¡°And my entire body is tight and sore.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s normal for a technique like this. The good news is that the healing should be far more thorough than a normal spell, so once you get up and stretch, I don¡¯t anticipate any further side effects.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± Geoffrey said.

    Tenebres¡¯s eyes snapped to the doorway, surprised to see the blonde assassin lounging in one corner of the ritual room. Based on the curses they both spat, Allana and Alleghy hadn¡¯t noticed him either.

    ¡°Rogue¡¯s balls, Geoff!¡± Alleghy cussed at him. ¡°Are you trying to scare me out of a few more years of life?¡±

    Geoffrey simply smiled.

    Alleghy¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Wait a second. I locked down the whole clinic before I started on this idiot. How did you get in here?¡±

    Geoffrey rolled a shoulder indifferently. ¡°Trick of the trade.¡±

    ¡°Trick of the¡­¡± Alleghy muttered, turned back to his cleaning. ¡°Fine. If you¡¯re done then, get out. It¡¯s too late for these old bones.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Geoffrey tilted his head at Allana and Tenebres, gesturing for them to go. ¡°We¡¯re even, Alleghy¡±

    The old healer waved a hand without turning around.

    Allana helped Tenebres off the table with unexpected, and unnecessary, gentleness. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± he reassured her. Then he paused, inspecting himself again. ¡°Although¡­ I think I need a shirt.¡±

 Chapter 61 - Caden

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Caden asked, looking back at Storyteller. His voice was as tired as the rest of him.

    The two were walking along an actual road for the first time since they had left Kellister. Days of traveling through the woods along glorified deer trails and the remains of what might¡¯ve once been service roads for some town¡¯s lumber work had eventually carried them to a small village a few dozen miles south-west of Kellister. Barely more than a score of homes huddled around an inn, surrounded by acres of farmland, Caden wasn¡¯t even sure the tiny settlement had a name.

    They hadn¡¯t stayed long enough to find out. Unable to find a hunter chief in the little village, Storyteller had simply asked one of the only three resident hunters if they were having any monster problems. After he received a negative response, the pair were back on the road without even spending a night.

    That was only the beginning of Storyteller¡¯s odd behavior. The adventurer had generally taken a very relaxed approach to their travels, never in any particular rush and always happy to take a break to do lessons or practice Caden¡¯s weapon work. That leisurely pace had paid dividends over the weeks, and Caden felt confident that he now had a comfortable handle on not just the gifts of a dozen different archetypes, but also with a variety of weaponry, ranging from his typical bow and axe to both short and long blades, daggers, and even spears and heavy weapons.

    But that placid energy had dwindled as they approached that tiny village, and vanished completely after they had passed through it. Increasingly, Storyteller seemed driven to reach Jellis. He became more and more reticent, their idle traveling conversation becoming a thing of the past as his attention turned more and more inwards, the man often muttering to himself in a low voice Caden couldn¡¯t make out while his eyes roamed around restlessly, as if seeing something other than the road stretching ahead of them.

    For three days now they had woken at sunrise and walked until well past sunset. Caden used his boosted awareness to keep moving through the dark until his stamina eventually failed him. But as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Storyteller would shake him awake to eat a brief, cold breakfast before they resumed moving. Caden was increasingly sure that the enigmatic adventurer wasn¡¯t even doing whatever sort of relaxation he did instead of sleep.

    It was the afternoon of their fourth day of this grueling pace when the tall, lean man had abruptly stopped in the middle of the road. He turned his head to look up at the sky intently, his eyes moving as if tracking something drifting through the sky.

    ¡°Teller? What¡¯s wrong?¡± Caden repeated.

    The man suddenly blinked, shaking his head. He shook himself a little, and Caden couldn¡¯t help but notice his eyes seem to flash even as he blinked, from piercing blue to ominous yellow to mocking green before resting on warm, distracted brown again. ¡°Apologies. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Caden told him. It had taken him more than three days, but the celestial had finally reached his limit. Just as he had when they had left Kellister, Caden folded his arms and placed his legs. ¡°No. I¡¯m not continuing until you tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±

    Storyteller turned to look at him, and Caden was shocked to see a flash of actual irritation pass over his face. His tone was flinty as he said, ¡°Caden. We do not have time for this. If we hurry, we can make Jellis tonight. Let¡¯s. Go.¡±

    Caden blinked, surprised at the man¡¯s rough tone. Never, in all the time he had known Storyteller, had he heard the powerful adventurer let that much anger into his tone, and Caden was very suddenly reminded that ¡°all the time he had known Storyteller¡± was a bit less than three months. ¡°Please¡­ just tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±

    Storyteller grimaced again, his upper lip twitching for a moment. His eyes flashed to blue as he opened his mouth, then he paused, closing his eyes and mouth alike for a moment. When he opened them again, they were the normal brown¨Cbut for the first time, Caden was left wondering if what he thought of as Storyteller¡¯s actual personality was even genuine, or if those gentle brown eyes were yet another mask.

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Storyteller finally said. ¡°Not this, not to you, and not right now. None of it is right. We need to keep moving.¡±

    Storyteller¡¯s eyes grew dark, changing to a gray so bleak it was nearly black, a color Caden had never seen before, even as his face hardened. ¡°Now you will follow me. We need to reach Jellis, and we need to do it today.¡±

    Caden blanched, his frustration knocked out of him by sheer shock at the sudden change in Storyteller. He knew, of course, that Storyteller was high level, perhaps more so than anyone he had ever met, but this was the first time since that hopeless, terrifying day in the barrens that Caden really felt the stark difference between them.

    ¡°I need an answer.¡± Storyteller¡¯s tone was, if anything, more sepulchral when he spoke again.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t,¡± Caden told him. Storyteller face darkened more, and he hastily added, ¡°I mean, I just can¡¯t, Teller! We¡¯ve been going nonstop for three days. Another day like this¡­ I¡¯m going to drop dead before we make it to Jellis! I don¡¯t have the stamina for it.¡±

    Storyteller winced, sympathy and frustration warring on his face, and suddenly it was the relaxed, brown-eyed Storyteller looking at her. ¡°Of course. I should¡¯ve known I was pushing you too hard.¡± Instead of offering a break, the adventurer began patting down his cloak, until he pulled out a silver flask. He screwed off the cap, sniffed at whatever was inside, and nodded. ¡°Here.¡±

    The adventurer tossed the flask to Caden. ¡°Take a sip of that every time you need to, no more than once an hour.¡±

    He didn¡¯t wait for a response, turning back down the road. Caden frowned down at the flask, but after a moment, did as Storyteller bid. The potion inside tasted faintly of the metal of its container, but was otherwise an odd, rich earthiness, thicker and darker than any tea he had before.

    Caden¡¯s eyes went wide the moment the drink settled in his stomach. He felt energized in a way no potion had made him feel before. It was closer to when he used his Soul Surge on stamina, but it went deeper than that. He didn¡¯t just feel revitalized, he felt hyper, like he had just taken a sip of the first warm spring day after a long winter. Curious, he used one of his abilities on the flask.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] activated

    Replenishing Flask - Artifice - Any liquid placed in this flask will slowly replenish so long as it is not entirely emptied. Replenishment is affected by the magical potency of the liquid. Mundane liquids replenish rapidly.

    Energy Potion - Alchemical - Restores and slightly boosts stamina and focus temporarily. Additionally, acts as a stimulant, increasing energy, and provides minor nourishment.

    Caden¡¯s brows went higher as he read through the two item descriptions, both representing a kind of magical item he had never seen before. ¡°I¡¯ve got to learn more about magic¡­¡± he muttered to himself.

    ¡°LET¡¯S GO!¡± Storyteller¡¯s shout from down the road made Caden jump. Looking up, he saw that the adventurer still hadn¡¯t stopped, clearly expecting Caden to catch up on his own.

    With a grin, the energized celestial used Soul Surge to boost his speed and set out after the older adventurer.

    #

    It was well past nightfall before the two of them saw the lights of Jellis in the distance, so much more brilliant and sprawling than Felisen or Kellister. Before he had become more withdrawn, Storyteller had told Caden some things about their destination, and Caden was excited to see such a large town. So far, Kellister had been the only village they had passed through that was as big as Felisen, with most being much smaller. The prospect of a settlement as large as Jellis was a brand new experience to Caden.

    Caden took another sip from the flask at his side. As the item¡¯s description had promised, it had refilled despite his constant draws from it, and it still felt about half-full. Still, he hoped that this would be the last he¡¯d need to make it to the distant town.

    Storyteller had remained focused and quiet for the remainder of the day, but Caden thought he seemed somewhat more troubled than he had before.

    As they neared the limits of the large town ahead, Caden was surprised to see a small cluster of men standing in the middle of the road. While there was no gate worth the name, a tall and sturdy fence straddled either side of the road, with the men standing between two large beams anchoring each end of the fenceline, funneling travelers towards them.

    ¡°Bandits?¡± Caden asked, his voice rough from a day of disuse.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Nothing as suspicious as that,¡± Storyteller replied, his steps slowing for the first time since their earlier argument. ¡°Merely a checkpoint.¡±

    Storyteller lifted a hand in greeting as they approached the group of suspicious looking men. ¡°Ho there gentlemen, good evening!¡±

    One man had his weight rested casually on a six-foot spear as he inspected Storyteller and Caden. ¡°Welcome, travelers. What brings you in so late?¡±

    ¡°Nothing less than a warm bed and the famed hospitality of Jellis, of course!¡± Storyteller replied jovially.

    Standing behind him, Caden couldn¡¯t see Storyteller¡¯s eyes, but assumed they had switched to his charismatic, joking green-eyed persona. Nonetheless, the man seemed unswayed by the casual response.

    ¡°Be that as it may, few would brave the roads this late.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Storyteller asked guilelessly.

    ¡°Few legitimate travelers, at least,¡± the man clarified. ¡°Unfortunately, I will need to search you, to ensure you¡¯re bringing no contraband or unsavory goods into our fair town.¡±

    Still behind him, Caden couldn¡¯t see Storyteller¡¯s face, but he noted the way the adventurer¡¯s back straightened. ¡°That is indeed unfortunate, as I can¡¯t permit that.¡±

    Something must¡¯ve shown in Storyteller¡¯s expression as he spoke, judging by the reaction of the men at the checkpoint. The spokesman blanched, his grip tightening on his spear, and while none of the half-dozen men quite drew steel, Caden could feel the air practically boiling with the potential for violence.

    What was wrong with Storyteller? This behavior was just as unlike him as his threatening manner when Caden had confronted him earlier. The adventurer was used to being seen with suspicion by townsfolk like this, and normally he had no problem adapting to that wariness, but now he seemed like he was almost ready to start a fight, here and now.

    Caden thought rapidly, trying to figure out how to defuse the situation, but was saved from action by a loud voice calling out from behind the checkpoint.

    ¡°Storyteller! Is that you?¡±

    The spokesman for the checkpoint blinked in surprise, turning as the men behind him moved aside for whoever had spoken.

    ¡°Sheriff Elway, sir? You know this man?¡±

    Sheriff Elway proved to be an absolute mountain of a man, nearly as tall as Storyteller and perhaps twice as wide around. Caden was immediately reminded of Denning, his mother¡¯s second in Felisen. But Denning¡¯s manner was usually quiet and composed, a far cry from this swaggering giant. Elway¡¯s skin was different too, the rich dark brown of the best sort of wood, as opposed to the more fair, tanned color common in the heartlands. Storyteller had told Caden that sort of dark skin was common to those from the coastal city of Westerlen, but the closest he had ever seen was Callahan and Brian, who had some Westian blood in them.

    ¡°Of course I do! Jellis itself owes him twice over!¡± Elway confidently strode out of the checkpoint, past the men. He held out a hand, which Storyteller eagerly shook, the earlier tension slowly draining away.

    ¡°Good to see you, Elway,¡± Storyteller greeted the man.

    ¡°And yourself! It¡¯s been, what, half a dozen years since you last made your way through here?¡±

    ¡°Something like that.¡±

    ¡°And who¡¯s this?¡± Elway asked, turning to look at Caden.

    ¡°My trainee,¡± Storyteller explained. ¡°Caden, or Cadence, depending on the day.¡±

    The man shrugged his shoulders in a tectonic motion. ¡°Welcome to Jellis then, Caden. You know the way in from here, aye Teller?¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± the leader of the checkpoint group spoke up, still seeming surprised for some reason. Was Elway¡¯s behavior that odd, or was Caden missing something? ¡°The search? It¡¯s two hours past sundown.¡±

    Elway snorted. ¡°Son, this fellow is a hero in his own right, and I¡¯ve got no doubt that if you tried to search him, you¡¯d be in for a nasty shock. Pick your battles.¡±

    The man seemed shaken by Elway¡¯s words, but given his manner and the deference the checkpoint guards showed the massive man, Caden figured ¡°sheriff¡± to be some sort of leadership position, and Elway¡¯s words were apparently enough to make the men stand down.

    The sheriff waited a moment to ensure he was understood, then turned back to Storyteller. ¡°Right then, should be easy enough for you to find accommodation. We can catch up tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Actually, I was hoping you¡¯d walk us into town,¡± Storyteller told him, ¡°if it wouldn¡¯t be too much trouble.¡±

    Elways arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. Caden had quickly got the impression that under his swaggering personality and massive frame, the sheriff had a keen mind and had understood far more than Storyteller had said with that simple request.

    ¡°That right?¡± Elway turned back to the spearman who had spoken earlier. ¡°What do you think, Jon? Can you hold down the fort for a bit longer without antagonizing any other local heroes?¡±

    #

    ¡°Aye, so about half my hunters are on what you could call normal duty, the rest serve as supervising officers to my guards,¡± Elway explained to Caden. The celestial was interested in the intricacies of the large town¡¯s militia, and couldn¡¯t help peppering the sheriff with questions.

    ¡°So your hunters have archetype gifts, then the guards use relic gifts?¡±

    ¡°Just the one relic each, then we¡¯ve got an armsmaster who comes through once a year to get the rest gifts from the Warrior. We use the good totems and ensouled items when we can get them, but about half are swiners.¡±

    ¡°Swiners?¡±

    ¡°They have the gift of the swine,¡± Storyteller explained. ¡°There are a few ranches in Vital and up by Arsilet that raise sounders of domesticated magic boars. Their meat, skin, and tusks all have uses as reagents, and they periodically produce totems.¡±

    ¡°That makes the gift of the boar one of the most common relic gifts in the Realm,¡± Elway told Caden. ¡°The swiners with that gift have got a bit of a reputation for being cheap muscle, but they¡¯re the best way to get a battle-gifted up to at least Apprentice quick and easy.¡±

    Caden frowned. ¡°But¡­ Why not give them two relic gifts? Wouldn¡¯t that allow you to advance them even quicker?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t work like that. Relic gifts can¡¯t be put together that easy.¡±

    Caden opened his mouth, that answer spawning another half-dozen questions in his mind. ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°Later,¡± Storyteller cut him off. ¡°Elway. What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    The massive sheriff gave Storyteller a shrewd look. ¡°What makes you think something¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Storyteller responded with a flat look. ¡°Because I¡¯m here, Elway. Tell me.¡±

    The big man sighed. ¡°Fine. There¡¯ve been some problems up north, along the Flax.¡±

    ¡°Problems?¡±

    ¡°Attacks,¡± he clarified. ¡°Always targeting low level gifted, Apprentice or lower. It¡¯s been slowing down trade a fair bit since spring.¡±

    Storyteller frowned. ¡°And? What have your men dug up?¡±

    ¡°A whole lot of nothing.¡± Elway shook his head. ¡°Once we puzzled out the problem, I sent my best Apprentice hunter out with a partner and four guards, all Apprentice or at the height of Novice. None of ¡®em came back, and I couldn¡¯t afford to keep throwing my men into a thresher.¡±

    ¡°Hence the checkpoints?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Me or one of my deputies check in at each one every couple hours.¡±

    ¡°What about the wardens?¡±

    The sheriff huffed derisively. ¡°They sent some patrols out, but you know the wardens. No squad goes out without an Initiate or Adept leading ¡®em, so they found squat.¡±

    You can¡¯t be serious.¡±

    The sheriff sighed, and seemed reluctant when he admitted, ¡°They did send some recruits out, a pair of Novice girls. Even brought a squire with them, if you can believe that. Some noble brat. They got into town a few days back.¡±

    ¡°Did they find anything?¡±

    ¡°Not so you¡¯d note. Some low rank undead, and a few storm monsters that almost got ¡®em killed. Their caravan¡¯s supposed to be leaving in another few days.¡±

    If not for the time he had spent traveling with Storyteller, Caden doubted he would¡¯ve noted Teller¡¯s subtle reaction to the man¡¯s words. Elway certainly didn¡¯t. But Storyteller was clearly interested in what the man had just said.

    Instead of saying that though, Storyteller thanked Elway, and told him they¡¯d make it to town from there. Despite his suspicious nature, the sheriff graciously accepted the flimsy excuse, and the two were soon alone once more.

    Storyteller stood in place for a few moments, his eyes distant, his lips moving silently.

    ¡°He seems¡­ nice?¡± Caden said awkwardly after a full minute of silence.

    Storyteller started at the words, then chuckled. ¡°He¡¯s not. But he is one of the most dangerous men in the heartlands.¡±

    Caden nodded slowly. ¡°What he said, the uhm¡­ ¡®undead.¡¯ That¡¯s important, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°It is.¡± Storyteller¡¯s words seemed troubled as they started walking again. ¡°I can¡¯t quite see how but¡­ yes. It¡¯s definitely important.

    Caden nodded again. ¡°So¡­ what are we going to do about it?¡±

    ¡°An excellent question. One we¡¯ll discuss tomorrow, I think.¡±

 Chapter 62 - Oliver

    ¡°I think we¡¯re about as ready as we can get,¡± Oliver said, mentally reviewing the purchases they had made since they had arrived in Jellis.

    Once Hugo reached out to the sheriff, Elway had eagerly snapped up the two stag totems the caravan had acquired on their trip down the Flax Road. The speed, stamina, and mobility powers offered by the gift of the stag made a good match to the Warrior¡¯s gifts of the archer and skirmisher, and given the dangerous roads, Elway had been willing to pay a premium for them.

    Rather than save their shares, Oliver and the girls had made the decision to invest the money back into supplies for their return trip.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way the attacks were as simple as a single specter,¡± Oliver had told them. ¡°There¡¯s something else going on, someone or something controlling the lesser undead.¡±

    ¡°And if that¡¯s the case,¡± Beryl said, ¡°they¡¯re certain to attack us on our way back. And they¡¯ll be ready for us this time.¡±

    Fortunately, the three had no need to spend money on magic weapons, usually the most expensive equipment for any battle-gifted. Rose and Beryl had trained in the self-sufficient fighting style favored by the wardens, and were more dangerous with their simple staves than most battle-gifted armed with conventional weapons, while Oliver had no need to upgrade from the runeblade Adeline had given him months before.

    Their first stops had been to a few local alchemists. The warden recruits found what they were looking for easily enough¨Ca couple health potions each¨Cbut it took Oliver some time to track down an alchemist with the right gifts for his needs. His time spent reading both the Travels of Elben Trellay and the Ruined World section of the Umbral Lexicon had made him aware of a product called enriched water, which could only be made by the augment of the Mage¡¯s gift of alchemy and the Primal¡¯s gift of water.

    Essentially little more than water infused with large quantities of life-aspected magic, not only did the liquid bestow a low potency passive healing effect, it was dangerously opposed to the death magic that animated undead. Fortunately, one of Jellis''s three resident alchemists had the right pairing of gifts rather than the more common alchemist and herbalist combination. OIiver felt significantly reassured with a few canteens of enriched water packed away.

    Leaving aside the likely attack they¡¯d face, it would still take at least another month to return to Correntry, so Rose and Beryl had also decided to buy from the various sundry shops to make their return trip more pleasant. Rose picked up a simple hair brush and a vial of a cleansing potion that would make a serviceable substitute for a shower, as well as a pair of mundane puzzle boxes. Beryl surprised Oliver not just by purchasing a simple sketchpad and hardback, but by proving herself remarkably proficient with them. He had never expected the large, brash girl to have such an artistic side.

    Finally, their most costly purchases came from one of Jellis¡¯s famed weavers. Avis shared the same dark skin as her husband, Elway, and matched his level as an Adept, but her weaver, artificer, and serenity gifts were far cry from her husband¡¯s combat-oriented skill set. They did, however, make her the most skilled and highest level artisan in Jellis, and the obvious choice for them to purchase new gear from.

    The jovial, heavy-set woman had eagerly taken them through her impressive assortment of battle garb. Despite growing up in a bastion city, Oliver had been surprised by the weaver¡¯s versatility. The combination of artifice¡¯s energy-manipulating runes and the magical crafting abilities of a high level artisan allowed Avis to create items even the noble-born squire had never seen.

    ¡°That¡¯s cloth of steel,¡± the woman had explained as Oliver examined a tunic. The cloth was smooth, like silk, but heavier, and hung oddly on the mannequin it was displayed on. ¡°I have to make it while working with one of the local blacksmiths. They produce the metal-aspected magic that I sew into the cloth itself, and I think the results speak for themselves.¡±

    ¡°How effective is it?¡± Oliver asked.

    The artisan smiled proudly. ¡°Try it for yourself.¡±

    Oliver gave Avis a surprised look, but at her urging, had pulled his blade and attempted to cut through the simple-looking tunic, only to find the fabric all but impenetrable.

    ¡°I¡¯d have to use a special attack to try any harder,¡± he said.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t suggest that,¡± Avis admitted. ¡°While the fabric is about as resilient as your average chain shirt, it lacks any innate potency. Now depending on your gifts¡­¡±

    Oliver smiled. ¡°I have the gift of the vanguard.¡±

    ¡°Well then, that couldn¡¯t be more perfect!¡±

    Oliver couldn¡¯t help but agree. But¡­ ¡°Do you have it in white?¡±

    In the end, Oliver walked out with a cloth of steel tunic in a bright white, while Beryl had settled on a more subtle brown for hers. As Rose preferred to avoid that sort of melee combat in the first place, she had ended up with a flutter cloak, a garment that could use wind-aspected magic to enhance her jumps, allowing her to more easily flee attackers and free herself from the press of close combat. As Rose shared Oliver¡¯s gift of wind, she could further enhance the cloak¡¯s capabilities with her mana.

    All things said and done, the trio were left with only a few more rings than they had before Hugo¡¯s sales, but they felt much more prepared for their return to Correntry and the unknown threat that loomed ahead. And, as Hugo was still responsible for their room and board while they traveled with the caravan, they were still able to live comfortably while in Jellis.

    As hoped, Jellis¡¯s accomadations had proven much more fine than any of the little villages they had stopped at so far. For the first time since he had left his family home in Elliven, Oliver had gotten to sleep on a down mattress, and the inn even had artifice-maintained baths where all the trio had finally gotten to wash off the dirt and grime of the road. Rose had availed herself of the facilities every day since they had arrived.

    ¡°I like showers,¡± she told Oliver defensively when he pressed her about it. ¡°They¡¯re relaxing.¡±

    ¡°Yet you chose a profession that makes you go out on the road constantly.¡±

    ¡°Well if we all chose jobs that let us do what we like, you¡¯d have to find something that let you be condescending professionally.¡±

    Oliver paused thoughtfully. ¡°Actually, my father wanted me to be a courtier. I think that would¡¯ve been an accurate job description.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Beryl and Oliver had also found their own liquid-based vices on offer in Jellis. A local brewer produced a pale ale that satisfied Beryl¡¯s elevated palate, even if Oliver found it bitter and hoppy, and the innkeeper made a point of keeping an assortment of fine Vital teas in stock.

    That night found Oliver and the two warden recruits sitting together in the taproom of the inn. Rose¡¯s hair was still an inky shade of crimson as it dried from her most recent bath, and she had a glass of a pale red wine while Oliver and Beryl enjoyed their own beverages of choice.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re quite prepared for the way back now,¡± Rose said happily.

    ¡°I¡¯d hope so,¡± Beryl joked, ¡°since we don¡¯t have a full scepter between the three of us.¡±

    ¡°Hey, we could always try to deal like Alec did,¡± Rose said.

    Beryl laughed loudly. ¡°Oh Warrior, the Alec Method.¡±

    ¡°It did work more than you¡¯d expect.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, except that when it failed, he¡¯d have to spend everything he saved on a healer!¡±

    Oliver closed his eyes, soaking in the comfortable murmur of the taproom and leaving the two girls to reminisce over their shared memories of growing up in Correntry. He wondered what Adeline would think of their purchases, and from there it was a short jump to wondering what the knight was doing now.

    When they all went their separate ways, she and Farris had been going out on their own mission, to hunt down a minotaur that had been threatening some towns west of the trade city, along the road to Valley Hearth. Minotaurs were magical creatures, products of rampant rage magic, rather than outsiders, but they were still generally around moderate tier. Oliver, Rose, and Beryl would¡¯ve been little but liabilities against a monster like that.

    Still, that had been nearly two months ago. She had almost certainly returned to Correntry by now, perhaps taken on another job. Oliver found himself looking down at the stark white of his new tunic. Avis had advised against such a bright garment for the road, where it would inevitably get dirtied, but Oliver had insisted. Besides, he thought that a road-worn white tunic was the perfect garment for a member of the Argent Order.

    He wondered if Adeline would¡¯ve approved of his purchases, and of his overall conduct on the job. Eventually, after much thought, Oliver decided she would¡¯ve liked the tunic, but scolded him for letting a simple personality clash escalate the way it had with Beryl. Things had been better since the stormstrike stag fight, and Jellis¡¯s amenities had allowed all three of them to relax in a way they hadn¡¯t in a long time, but for a short while, their conflict had had the potential to jeopardize the entire mission.

    Soon thereafter, Oliver found himself toying with one of the loops on the cloak Adeline had given him. As promised, the garment had proven its worth on the road, the magical material keeping him cool even as summer hit its stride, and the fabric remained resilient to dirt and stains. But he still hadn¡¯t used the feature Adeline had shown him, the ability to pull the cloak up and turn it into a makeshift dress.

    Oliver hadn''t spent much time thinking about the nature of that present, almost as if he had consciously avoided it¨Cbecause, of course, he had. His habitual discomfort in his own skin was something he had carried with him for so long that it was easier to dodge the complex tangle of thoughts and feelings than to actually deal with it. In its own way, Adeline¡¯s parting gift had been a message that he needed to move past that, that there were people who would accept him even if he embraced that part of h¨C

    But he hadn¡¯t. He had never spoken out loud about his dysphoria, and it had become a weight in his heart that he had no idea how to let go of. Maybe he just needed to open up, just a little bit.

    ¡°Well, well, well. Haven¡¯t seen them around town.¡±

    Oliver blinked, drawn out of his reverise at Beryl¡¯s words. He turned in the direction of the brawny girl¡¯s gaze and saw what had caught her attention. A pair of strangers had entered the inn, clearly travelers by their garb.

    The man in the front was unremarkable enough, leaving aside his height. He loomed over his companion, dressed in simple travel clothes. A tattered canvas cloak draped down below his knees, but Oliver caught sight of multiple straps and bags underneath it. His plain brown eyes surveyed the room, and Oliver shivered a little as they passed on his table.

    ¡°That man¡¯s dangerous,¡± he said quietly.

    ¡°You think so?¡± Rose asked. ¡°He looks like a vagabond.¡±

    His time amongst the nobility of Elliven had exposed Oliver to far more high-level gifted than Rose or Beryl, as they were more common in the bastions than the trade cities. He knew how to note the careful balance, the liquid grace, the perfect conservation of movement high level battle-gifted possessed. More than that, the man¡¯s gaze clearly saw more than it should. Elway had given Oliver a similar feeling, but this man was another order of magnitude all together.

    ¡°He¡¯s high level,¡± Oliver insisted.

    ¡°What about the kid?¡± Beryl asked.

    ¡®Kid¡¯ was a little diminutive for the tall man¡¯s companion, as he looked to be about the same age as the three of them. He was thin and short, only a little bigger than Rose, but he had none of the healer¡¯s frailty about him. His leathers emphasized the taut, clean lines of his body, and despite his age, his face had a deep suntanned appearance. What hair peaked out from under the baggy cap he wore was a brilliant shade of sky blue, hinting at northern ancestry just as much as Beryl¡¯s short, mossy green cut.

    All three recognized the boy¡¯s body language. He was clearly subordinate to the tall man, his eyes sweeping through the room curiously but occasionally flitting back to the lead man as if looking for direction. When his gaze found the three of them, a small smile brightened his face and he nodded his head in a tentative greeting.

    Oliver frowned, confused by the friendly gesture, but Rose and Beryl both tilted their glasses in a little greeting of their own.

    ¡°He¡¯s sort of cute,¡± Rose murmured.

    ¡°There¡¯s something weird about them,¡± Oliver noted.

    ¡°Oh, be nice,¡± Rose scolded him quietly.

    Beryl frowned and turned back to them. ¡°He¡¯s got an awareness boon,¡± she commented. ¡°He heard you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Oliver looked over, but the two were already moving towards the stairs to the private rooms. As if sensing his attention, the tall man turned to look straight at Oliver. He winked a green eye, then he was gone.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think they¡¯re related to the attacks, do you?¡± Rose asked.

    Oliver pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shook his head. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t fit them. From what I read about necromancy, the gifts tend to cause some noticeable physical degradation.¡±

    ¡°Then what¡¯s so weird?¡±

    Oliver frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± His eyes drifted to the stairs again, and he couldn¡¯t suppress a little shudder.

    ¡°I¡¯ll say this though. We¡¯ve gotta hope they''re not in on the attacks.¡±

    Rose tilted her head. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because. I¡¯m pretty sure that man could go through this town like a scythe through grain.¡±

    Beryl snorted. ¡°You think he¡¯s that strong? He didn¡¯t look all that impressive to me.¡±

    Oliver shook his head. ¡°The way he moved¡­ I knew a couple Experts, before I left Elliven. I¡¯ll bet you anything he could give them a run for their money.¡±

    ¡°Well. Maybe we¡¯ll go talk to Elway tomorrow, if you¡¯re that alarmed,¡± Rose suggested.

    Oliver frowned. The prospect of talking to Elway wasn¡¯t exactly the most exciting thing in the world after their confrontation. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    Still, more than the mysterious man, Oliver couldn¡¯t get the blue-haired boy out of his head. There was something odd about him. Something he couldn¡¯t quite place.

    Oliver just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling it hadn¡¯t been happenstance that brought them in the door. He couldn¡¯t help but think that those two arriving in Jellis was somehow very, very important.

    END OF PART THREE

 Chapter 63 - Cadence

    Cadence blinked her eyes, slowly coming awake. Before the world could come into focus, her fingers were already anxiously darting up to her sky blue hair, undoing the low tail she preferred as Caden and brushing out the tangles, knowing immediately that her solar self was more comfortable today.

    ¡°Feels like I haven¡¯t slept this late in forever,¡± she commented to Storyteller as she sat up in bed. A yawn overtook any further comments, and she lifted her arms in a broad stretch. The inn he had picked out was far more lavish than any they had stayed at thus far, and Cadence had deeply enjoyed her first night ever sleeping on the plush softness of a down mattress rather than a straw bed or a simple wooden pallet.

    When the lanky man uttered no reply, Cadence finally peeked her eyes open. The room was empty, with the second bed across from her own unoccupied and still tidily made, as if it hadn¡¯t even been slept in.

    Anxiety crept into Cadence¡¯s shoulders, and the last vestiges of sleep vanished as she swung out of her bed.

    ¡°I¡¯m being ridiculous,¡± Cadence told herself out loud. ¡°I know Storyteller doesn¡¯t sleep like a normal person. He must¡¯ve just gone out to run some errands and let me sleep in. Yeah, this is normal.¡±

    Even as she tried to justify it to herself, Cadence¡¯s eyes fell on the writing desk tucked in one corner of the room¨Cand on the belt pouch placed next to a simple, neatly folded letter.

    ¡°Well. Fuck.¡±

    Hands trembling, Cadence opened the letter, and quickly had her fears confirmed.

    Cadence,

    My presence was needed elsewhere, and unfortunately, I could not continue moving at a pace you could follow.

    My apologies for leaving you like this. I know it¡¯s not ideal, but I suspect the time was rapidly approaching for us to part ways in any case. You have come far in the time I¡¯ve known you, and are quickly approaching the point where my continued presence would only hinder your growth.

    I¡¯ve left you what I could to aid your next steps forward. In the pouch I left beside this letter, you¡¯ll find more than enough wealth to make your way for some time. I suggest you be careful with revealing its full contents. Inside, you¡¯ll also find a contact tablet¨Cshould you have need, simply break it, and I will know you need help, and take steps to ensure you get it. I¡¯ve also left you the flask I offered you yesterday¨Cmay it and the potion inside serve you well. Additionally, I had a word with Sheriff Elway¨Che will be willing to speak on your behalf while you reside in Jellis, should you need it.

    Remember, your mind is a weapon keener than any mere blade and more potent than any gift. Use it well.

    I know we¡¯ll meet again. Until then.

    - Storyteller

    At the bottom of the letter, signed as if it was a signature, was an odd design, a series of four lines that intersected at various points. On another day, Cadence would¡¯ve puzzled over the odd symbol, but at the moment, she was far too anxious to give it more than a moment¡¯s attention.

    ¡°This has to be a joke, right?¡±

    The empty room gave no answer.

    ¡°....Fuck.¡±

    #

    Not knowing how else to proceed and needing some time to think, Cadence went down to the taproom of the inn. It was quiet, with only a few others sitting and having their own breakfasts.

    She approached the bar, and the tender, a tired looking, middle-aged woman, greeted her with a weary smile. ¡°Good morning lass! You¡¯re a new face, when did you roll in?¡±

    ¡°Last night.¡± Cadence was in little mood for conversation, but the woman seemed oblivious to that.

    ¡°All by your lonesome? The roads are far from safe for a girl your age these days.¡±

    ¡°Apparently¡­¡± Cadence muttered, a sigh slipping from her lips. ¡°Look, can I just get some breakfast?¡±

    The woman¡¯s face turned into a mild frown. ¡°Not a morning person, I suppose. Very well, we¡¯ve got some eggs and bacon in the skillet, and I can throw on a slice of toast too. Anything to drink?¡±

    ¡°Do you have any cider?¡±

    ¡°I can do some soft cider, sure.¡±

    ¡°Hard, please.¡±

    The woman arched an eyebrow, but the motherly disapproval she tried for paled in comparison to Ryme¡¯s, and Cadence stared her down.

    ¡°Fine then,¡± the woman said, bemused, ¡°that¡¯ll be four rings.¡±

    Cadence counted out the small bronze coins from her own coin pouch¨Cshe had left Teller¡¯s upstairs¨C and quickly retreated to a corner table to await her food and be alone with her thoughts.

    In some ways, this was where she always wanted to be. She had dreamed for years about the freedom to travel where she wished, when she wished, with no obligations or responsibilities. But having it happen so suddenly caught her flat-footed.

    At the very least, Storyteller¡¯s behavior over the past several days made sense now. She wasn¡¯t sure how the man knew the things he knew, but he must¡¯ve felt the need to be moving on days ago. Cadence supposed it was a small mercy that he had gotten her as far as Jellis before going on his way. She could only imagine how disconcerted she would¡¯ve been if she had woken up on the side of the road to find him gone.

    With Storyteller¡¯s disappearance, Cadence had finally gained the freedom she had always sought, but she had never considered the harsh reality of her dreams. She was alone now. With the exception of Elway, she didn¡¯t even know the name of a single person between here and Kellister¨Cand the only person she really knew in that village had probably left it by now. She had to find her own way forward now, but Storyteller hadn¡¯t left her with any indication of where to start.

    From Jellis, there were only really two options. She could go north to follow the Flax Road up to Correntry, or south, through the deadlands towards Emeston. She had no doubt that Storyteller would¡¯ve taken them south. The deadlands were the region between the fertile farms and forests of the northern heartlands and the flourishing fishing villages along the Coast Road. It was an area that had few villages and no major trade routes, a victim of rugged terrain, barren soil, and poor lumber that gave it little use to the commerce of the Realm. That made it exactly the sort of place that Storyteller claimed adventurers were supposed to go.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Unfortunately, the bartender hadn¡¯t been wrong, even if her sweetly condescending tone had rubbed Cadence the wrong way. Without Storyteller by her side, Cadence was just one teenager, Novice level and with gifts that scarcely qualified her as a battle-gifted. Going into the deadlands by herself was likely to be the last mistake she ever made, and even if she made it through, Emeston was far from an ideal destination. From what Storyteller had told her of the trade cities, she¡¯d be little safer in Emeston than she¡¯d be on the road.

    ¡°Here you go, lass. Take it slow.¡±

    Cadence rolled her eyes, barely acknowledging the woman as she placed down a plate of eggs and bacon, along with a slab of toasted bread and an earthenware mug of cider.

    Though she would¡¯ve likely done it regardless, Cadence quietly delighted in the sour look the woman gave her when she took a hearty gulp of the cider. Cadence was far from a heavy drinker, but the cider was far from the most potent alcohol in the world, and if there was ever a time for a drink, it was now.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Call if you need anything,¡± the woman told her, clearly exasperated, before she went on her way.

    Cadence waved absently after her as she departed, tucking in to her breakfast as she continued planning.

    Emeston wasn¡¯t the right choice. Part of Cadence desperately wanted to see the ocean, but at her level, by herself, there was no way she¡¯d make it that far. That left the Flax Road, the route north to Correntry. Storyteller had described Correntry as the most urbane of the trade cities, a rival even to the older bastion cities. That certainly sounded like something worth seeing.

    But Cadence had also caught wind of a complication in the conversation Storyteller had with the sheriff the night before. There was apparently some sort of danger lurking along the Flax Road, specifically attacking low level gifted, which meant that Cadence might very well be at as much risk going north as south.

    So what was she supposed to do? Remaining in Jellis wasn¡¯t an option¨Cbesides her own embarrassment, the town would become stifling long before the road was confirmed to be free of dangers. Both of her gifts required her to explore more, to find new gifts and experience new things. That¡¯s what she needed to do.

    She could try to make her way through the roughs again, back to Kellister and the Lumber Road, but even with Know Direction there was no guarantee that she¡¯d be able to find her way back there. Ryme had instilled decent woodcraft and survival skills in her child, but those alone didn¡¯t give Cadence much optimism about her odds in the woods.

    Sullen, Cadence idly lifted her eyes and caught sight of two girls across the taproom, eating their own breakfasts. They were about her age, one tall, with broad shoulders and a build more muscular than most men; the other was short and slender, with a mane of brilliant red tresses. Cadence had noticed them the night before, along with a third youth, an athletic boy who was now missing from their company.

    More to the point, she had noticed them noticing her, as well as Storyteller, when they arrived. A thought began to percolate in the back of her head as she connected the pair with what Elway had told Storyteller, about the trainees sent to ferret out whatever danger was haunting the Flax Road.

    Caden¡¯s lips curled up in a small smile as that thought led her to another, and another after that. By the time she finished her breakfast, she had the bare bones of an actual plan in her head.

    Eagerly, she tossed back the last of her cider and brought her dishes up to the bar. ¡°Another cider, if you don¡¯t mind. Soft this time.¡±

    Fresh mug in hand, Cadence turned towards the table with the two girls.

    [Soul Surge] activated

    Charm attribute boosted

    ¡°Do you mind if I sit with you?¡±

    #

    A half hour passed easily as Cadence chatted with Beryl and Rose. With her charm Surged, Cadence had an awareness of body language and social cues she had never experienced before, and it was easy enough to get the two girls to chat with her. After the first several minutes, the supernatural charisma of the Soul Surge died away, but it helped Cadence get through the toughest part of the conversation.

    Now that they had begun to open up, the two girls seemed eager to talk, and one of Cadence¡¯s last realizations as the boost faded was that they must¡¯ve been starved for someone new to talk to. They were both full of stories, both of their trip down to Jellis and of their childhood in Correntry itself. They were vague on their exact reasons for traveling, and Cadence was happy to return the favor, referring to her travels with Storyteller as ¡°a trip with a family friend.¡±

    Finally, Cadence felt comfortable broaching the real topic that had brought her over to meet them in the first place. ¡°Would you mind if I ask, is your caravan going to be heading back up to Correntry soon?¡±

    The two girls traded a look that spoke volumes, silently communicating with an obvious level of intimacy. Probably not romantic partners, but life-long friends, sisters by bond if not by blood. They had thus far claimed to be hired hands on a merchant¡¯s caravan, but Cadence had recognized that to be a lie when they had said it during her Surge. One of the odder parts of a temporary boost to her mental attributes was being able to remember thoughts like that without remembering exactly what had led her to that conclusion.

    ¡°It is,¡± Rose replied tentatively, ¡°but¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous,¡± Beryl supplied as her friend trailed off. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s such a good idea for you to join us.¡±

    ¡°I can handle myself, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about,¡± Cadence reassured them.

    ¡°Really?¡± Beryl¡¯s eyes shamelessly slid up and down Cadence¡¯s figure. Upon waking and finding herself dysphoric, she cinched her leathers tightly enough to make even her minor curves obvious, and based on the glances Cadence caught throughout their conversation, she pegged Beryl as more than a bit sun-drawn. ¡°You¡¯re battle-gifted?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far,¡± Cadence hedged. ¡°I have one utility gift, but the other is a bit tricky. I can hold my own if something happens, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Rose pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment. ¡°Be that as it may¡­ we¡¯re expecting some real trouble on the way back. You¡¯d be better off waiting here.¡±

    Cadence asked the obvious question, given the mutual lies they had told each other. ¡°If it¡¯s so dangerous, why don¡¯t you do the same?¡±

    Beryl winced, and Rose¡¯s lips tightened. Reluctantly, the redhead admitted, ¡°Because we¡¯re warden cadets. It¡¯s our job to do that sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°I kinda guessed that much,¡± Caden told them with an apologetic grin. ¡°But if that¡¯s the case, it seems like you could use all the help you can get, right?¡±

    ¡°Still,¡± Beryl shrugged uncomfortably, ¡°I¡¯m sorry but¡­ we only just met.¡±

    Rose nodded her agreement. ¡°More than skill, trust is critical in the sorts of fights we¡¯re preparing for. I¡¯m sorry Cadence, but it¡¯s just not a good idea.¡±

    Cadence quickly buried a frown in her mug, taking a gulp of (thankfully) non-alcoholic cider to give herself time to think. They didn¡¯t trust her¨Cand of course they wouldn¡¯t. They had no reason to. She was just a random traveler. For all they knew, she was with whoever was behind the attacks in the first place. Storyteller had told her the same thing once, that a lack of trust was one of the biggest hurdles adventurers had to overcome on the road. It was why he¡­

    Cadence¡¯s eyes went wide as she realized her way in. It would require another lie, which she regretted, but it was a trick right out of Storyteller¡¯s book. She schooled her face into a sheepish smile as she lowered her mug.

    ¡°I understand. But¡­ Okay, well¡­¡± Cadence gave an exaggerated look around the taproom, and leaned closer to the two.

    ¡°I was trained by a silver knight. I¡¯m his squire.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Beryl arched an eyebrow. There was something odd in her tone. Not disbelief, but¡­ ugh. Why didn¡¯t she save her Soul Surge?

    Cadence bulled ahead anyways. ¡°Really! Sir Toren Cifel. We actually just got into town after some work in Kellister, out east.¡± The two girls treaded another speculative look, and Cadence hurriedly added, ¡°My master was actually on good terms with Sheriff Elway. He can vouch for me, if you ask.¡±

    Beryl looked faintly impressed by that claim, and gave Rose a shrug.

    The petite redhead sighed¨Cthen looked up with a bright smile. ¡°Okay, that works. Let¡¯s just grab Oli, then we¡¯ll go talk to Elway and Hugo.¡±

    ¡°Oli?¡±

    ¡°Our friend, he¡¯s actually an Argent Order squire too!¡±

    Cadence¡¯s eyes went wide. Another silver squire? What were the chances of that?

    ¡°Oh there he is!¡± Rose stood up and waved at someone across the taproom. ¡°Oli, over here!¡±

 Chapter 64 - Oliver

    ¡°Oli! Over here!¡±

    Oliver winced at the exuberant call.

    Since they had arrived in Jellis, Oliver had been taking advantage of the plush beds, the first down mattress he¡¯d gotten to sleep on since he left his family home behind, turning in early and sleeping late. Logically, he knew that it was late morning, and that his companions had likely been up for hours, but it still felt far too early for that sort of energy.

    A yawn overtook him as he approached the wardens¨Chis sleepy gaze didn¡¯t note the third person sitting with Rose and Beryl until he had nearly reached the table. Oliver paused for a moment as he took notice of them. For a moment, he thought them to be the boy who had arrived the night before. The sky blue hair and slight build were similar, but this person was clearly a girl. Did he have a sister who had come in separately or something? Jellis was a big town, but Oliver was pretty certain he would¡¯ve noticed that vivid hair.

    Oliver feigned another yawn to cover his confusion, and slipped into the empty chair between Beryl and the stranger. ¡°Who is this?¡±

    Oliver had addressed the question to his companions, but the blue-haired girl was the one who replied. ¡°I¡¯m Cadence. I was just talking to your friends about joining your caravan.¡±

    ¡°No can do,¡± Oliver replied automatically. ¡°No room.¡±

    Based on Rose¡¯s wince and Beryl¡¯s huffed breath, Oli suspected he had arrived a little too late for that line to work.

    Cadence arched a finely-angled eyebrow, which Oliver noticed absently was the same brilliant blue as her hair. ¡°That¡¯s not quite what your friends told me.¡±

    Oliver gave the two warden recruits a flat look, then turned back to the strange girl. ¡°Be that as it may, we¡­ I mean, I¡­¡± He trailed off with a sigh. ¡°Look, do you mind if I just borrow my friends for a minute?¡±

    The girl¡¯s smile was a little too knowing. ¡°Of course not.¡±

    Oliver stood, gesturing for the others to follow him to the bar.

    ¡°¡®Friends¡¯ feels a bit much,¡± Beryl muttered as she stood up.

    ¡°A cup of tea, please,¡± Oliver asked Maria, sliding onto a barstool while he waited for the others.

    Maria, the innkeeper, gave him a weary smile. ¡°Any preference?¡±

    ¡°Strong.¡±

    While Maria prepared him a cup of something to wake him up enough to deal with this nonsense, he turned back to Rose and Beryl, angled just right so that he could keep an eye on Cadence over their shoulders.

    ¡°So what exactly did you tell her?¡± he asked them.

    ¡°Assume she knows everything,¡± Beryl suggested. ¡°She¡¯s smart, and she knows more than she lets on. I¡¯ll bet you a scepter she knows exactly who we are and why we¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°I like her,¡± Rose said primly, taking a seat and signaling Maria for a tea of her own.

    Oliver sighed, exasperation making him snap. ¡°Well that¡¯s just great. What if she¡¯s with whoever is behind the attacks? She could just have a charm boon or something.¡±

    ¡°Oh, almost certainly,¡± Rose replied, her tone airy. ¡°To the charm part, I mean. Not the bandit part.¡±

    ¡°How can you be so sure?¡±

    ¡°Because she¡¯s a silver squire, just like you,¡± Beryl butted in. Unlike Rose and Oli, the large girl had stayed standing, merely leaning against the bar, and her height had her practically looming over them.

    ¡°According to her. What proof does she have?¡±

    ¡°Elway, apparently. She claimed the sheriff is an old friend of her master, and that he¡¯d speak on her behalf.¡±

    Oliver opened his mouth, then shut it, mulling Beryl¡¯s words over. Realistically, that was about as close to an unimpeachable source as she could have.

    ¡°Does that make her master the tall guy from last night?¡±

    ¡°Probably. You did say he was dangerous.¡±

    Oliver frowned, thinking of the far-too-observant man. He had been high-level, certainly, but he didn¡¯t look much like a knight. Although that didn¡¯t necessarily mean anything. Adeline had told him, shortly after he decided to join her, that the Argent Order wasn¡¯t wholly composed of full-fledged knights. That silver knights were as much adventurers as anything else, and that the Argent Order served as an acceptable public face for those adventurers and their accomplishments.

    Did that make this girl an adventurer? That certainly fit her better, and if that was true, then she could be a good ally to come along on their return trip.

    ¡°Warrior¡¯s name, you can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s cute.¡±

    Rose¡¯s compliment completely derailed Oliver¡¯s train of thought, and he gave her a surprised look, face flushing.

    The redhead grinned, but any further response was interrupted by Maria serving them both their tea.

    ¡°Hugo¡¯s account?¡± the innkeeper asked.

    Oliver nodded. ¡°Mind throwing an apple on there for me too? Need something I can eat on the move.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem. Some barley toast too?¡±

    ¡°Just bread please, no need to toast it.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t need walking food if you¡¯d wake up before noon,¡± Beryl teased, exaggerating only slightly. Oliver sipped his tea quickly to hide his blush.

    ¡°So? Does that mean you¡¯re good with her coming?¡±

    Oliver frowned. ¡°Maybe. Is it just her? What about her brother?¡±

    Rose and Beryl traded a look Oliver couldn¡¯t quite sort out. ¡°Brother?¡±

    ¡°Remember? The boy from last night, the one who came in with the scarecrow. They look so similar, I figure they¡¯ve gotta be siblings.¡±

    The two girls traded another look, but there was no hiding their mirth this time.

    ¡°Oli,¡± Rose turned back, her green eyes dancing, ¡°that was Cadence.¡±

    Oli¡¯s eyes went wide. He shot a look from Cadence, then back to the two of them, shaking his head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not right. It was a boy who showed up. They might look similar but¡­¡±

    ¡°Elder¡¯s beard,¡± Beryl swore through a rough laugh.

    ¡°Last night, she was a boy,¡± Rose agreed. ¡°Today she¡¯s a girl.¡±

    The slender girl gave her friend a brief look. ¡°I think they¡¯re called celestials, right? People who don¡¯t consider themselves one thing or another?¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Beryl shrugged. ¡°If you say so. I had her pegged as eclipsed.¡±

    ¡°Nah, she¡¯s too comfortable with either presentation. I think.¡±

    Oli listened to their conversation with an increasing sense of¡­ of something he couldn¡¯t quite describe. It wasn¡¯t quite panic, or anxiety, or excitement. For a moment, he felt like he was on the verge of something¡­

    ¡°Here you are, lad.¡±

    Maria¡¯s sudden interruption caused something dark and bitter to whirl around in Oliver¡¯s mind, blowing away the enchanting, terrifying exhilaration. Without as much as a ¡°thank you,¡± Oli grabbed the slice of dark bread and the apple Maria had set on the bar for him.

    Cadence looked up as he approached, Rose and Beryl only belatedly following his sudden movements.

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°My friends are convinced you¡¯re worth bringing with us,¡± he told her, his voice tight from the sudden surge of frustration that had overtaken him out of nowhere. ¡°I¡¯m a little harder to persuade, though. Come on.¡±

    #

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Cadence took a couple tentative swings with her practice sword, adjusting to the length of the carved stick.

    ¡°Yep. You told Rose and Beryl you can handle yourself, and we¡¯re due to start our morning practice anyways. This is as good a way as any to get a grasp of what you can do.¡±

    Cadence pursed her lips. Oliver watched her face closely, trying to read whatever was going on in her mind. Her eyes drifted around the empty stretch of field outside Jellis, from him, to Rose, then to Beryl. Both girls were standing off to the side, looking vaguely embarrassed by his aggression. A few unreadable expressions flicked over the girl¡¯s face, before she nodded.

    ¡°Okay. What are the rules?¡±

    ¡°No special attacks!¡± Rose called from the sidelines. ¡°I¡¯m not putting you idiots back together!¡±

    Cadence nodded absently. ¡°Fair enough. How do we know who wins?¡±

    Oliver casually twirled his own practice sword in a smooth series of circles. Cadence watched the motion closely, and Oli felt a grim smile stretch his lips. She must¡¯ve been realizing what she was getting into. ¡°Disarm or clear defeat. Beryl will call it.¡±

    Cadence blew out a breath. Her eyes darted around again, as if looking over the trio, then she nodded firmly. ¡°Okay, I can do that.¡±

    Oliver snorted out a breath. ¡°If you say so.¡±

    Cadence rolled her eyes, but a wide grin spread across her own face. ¡°You¡¯re such a boy.¡±

    That same flurry of anger and resentment suddenly surged through Oliver again, and his grin fell away as he went on the offensive.

    He opened with a Gust Blast, the powerful gale throwing Cadence off-balance for a critical moment as Oliver crossed the space between them, practice sword flashing through the most brutal combination of attacks he had. It was one of his go-to techniques, and his sword moved with the practiced ease of dozens of hours of training and years of conditioning.

    By contrast, Cadence¡¯s defense was sloppy. Already knocked off guard by his opening gust, she had little chance to block his attacks, her flailing weapon only barely managing to stop two cuts that were aimed at her head and allowing several others through. The wooden sword slammed into her ribs, thighs, and arms with all the force of his sudden anger.

    But the girl didn¡¯t even flinch, barely wincing at the no-doubt bruising strength of his attacks. Oli realized that she must¡¯ve had some sort of defensive ability like his own Reinforced Defense, but it was too late. The attacks he had expected to put her down were insufficient, and she reclaimed some of her own momentum, taking the fight back to him. Her own attacks were as untrained as her defense though, little more than a series of overhead chops that Oliver was able to easily parry.

    Each of his ripostes proved just as useless, however. No matter how hard he hit the girl, her own defense rendered the wooden sword impotent, and Rose¡¯s restriction meant he couldn¡¯t use his own special attacks to do some actual damage. Before long, the simultaneous effort to both block and keep up the offensive had begun to wear him down, and the momentum of the fight shifted.

    Oliver gritted his teeth, frustration building ever higher in his chest. He had to go for the head¨Cthe girl was fastidious about blocking any attacks he sent towards her face, although her ability no doubt protected it. Oli knew firsthand how hard it was to resist the body¡¯s reflexes to protect yourself, no matter how good your defensive abilities were. If he could get a good hit on her head, it might throw her off enough to¨C

    Suddenly, everything about Cadence¡¯s stance changed. Even as his sword came down in a brutal swing, her own flashed up to meet the attack in a clean parry, sending his weapon rebounding up and to the side, leaving him open. It didn¡¯t matter, of course. Oli had his own Reinforced Defense ability, this girl couldn¡¯t do real damage with her fake weapon anymore than he could. He braced himself for the hit¨Cbut instead of a futile riposte, Cadence dropped her weight low, one leg bending while the other scythed out in a low kick, taking his legs from underneath him while he was off-balance.

    His back hit the ground hard, breath knocked from his lungs. Before he could recover, Cadence was there. A kick sent his sword flying from his weakened hand, and then the tip of her wooden sword was at his throat.

    ¡°Match goes to Cadence!¡± Beryl called from the sideline.

    ¡°So?¡± Cadence asked, her rich brown eyes dancing with humor. ¡°Am I good enough to hold my own?¡±

    ¡°Primal¡¯s breath Cadence, that was awesome!¡± Rose came running across the field. ¡°I thought he was being too hard on you, but then he was on his back!¡¯

    ¡°It was pretty good,¡± Beryl admitted as she approached, her tone more reserved but still carrying a small chuckle.

    ¡°Thanks!¡± Cadence replied brightly, as if she wasn¡¯t still holding him at swordpoint. Fake swordpoint, but still!

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Can you let me up now?¡± he grumbled, reaching up to slap the tip of Cadence¡¯s sword away. In the wake of the fight, Oli found himself calming down, the bitter wind leaving him as quickly as it had come.

    Cadence looked back down, a slender blue eyebrow arched. ¡°As soon as you admit I¡¯m good enough to come with you.¡±

    #

    Later that night, Oliver slid into a chair across from Cadence. The celestial looked up at him, surprised. She had stuck around for the hours of training Oliver and the wardens had been doing to keep themselves sharp in Jellis, keeping up gamely with the trio. Cadence didn¡¯t have the training that Oliver or even Beryl and Rose had spent years on, but she was clearly naturally talented, and took easily to the demands of combat.

    Oliver had spoken with both Hugo and Elway, and neither proved an impediment to Cadence joining the caravan. After the difficulties they had faced on the road, Hugo was pleased to have another battle-gifted along, especially one who would have to pay their own way. Meanwhile, Elway admitted to not knowing the youth personally, but vouched for the knight she claimed to be her master.

    All of which meant that when they left Jellis in a couple days, the blue-haired celestial would be joining them, regardless of what Oliver thought about it. Which, he had eventually decided, was a good thing, because he couldn¡¯t even sort his own feelings about the fluid teen out, much less express them to anyone else. His wounded pride, confusion, jealousy, and bitterness mingled with a sense of wonder and excitement he couldn¡¯t quite place.

    It was this cocktail of confused feelings that drove him to Cadence¡¯s table, a mug of cider in each hand. ¡°Do you mind if we share a drink?¡±

    Cadence looked up in surprise, but a smile quickly bloomed on her face, a more confident reflection of his nervous grin. ¡°Of course not!¡±

    ¡°Maria said you like cider, so¡­¡±

    ¡°Thanks!¡± Cadence eagerly grabbed her mug and took a gulp. She gave a satisfied groan before she set the mug back down. ¡°I love the cider they make here. I keep meaning to make it out to the orchard to see how they do it.¡±

    Oliver nodded an awkward agreement. He was suddenly back to that first night at the Grime and Glory, when he met Rose and Beryl, with no idea of what to say. Only he was the one who had started this conversation! What was wrong with him?

    ¡°Something you wanted to talk about?¡± Cadence asked, their smile turning a shade indulgent.

    Oliver frowned, then tried to force the petulant expression away. ¡°This morning, when we fought. How did you do that?¡±

    Cadence shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Just felt right in the moment, you know? You had already shown that it was a waste of time to slug away when we both have defensive abilities, so I figured I¡¯d take a different tact.¡±

    Oliver frowned at their conclusion. Only in the aftermath of the fight had he realized just how thoroughly she had exposed his weaknesses, the same weaknesses Adeline had focused so much of her attention on addressing. Cadence had relied on her defense to let her be more aggressive, wearing Oliver out and leaving him exposed when he tried to meet and counter all of her attacks. He still just couldn¡¯t get the hang of purposefully taking a hit that Reinforced Defense would let him ignore.

    Another thought deepened his frown. ¡°Wait. How did you know I had a defensive power? You hadn¡¯t hit me yet.¡±

    Cadence blinked, then their smile widened. ¡°I guessed.¡±

    ¡°You guessed?¡±

    ¡°No. But I promise you wouldn¡¯t believe the real answer.¡±

    Oliver rolled his eyes grumpily, deciding that Rose and Beryl must¡¯ve told her. ¡°Why do you do that?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re hiding things, but you¡¯re making a show of it. You know more about us than we know about you, then you rub it in like that.¡±

    Cadence huffled a little laugh, her eyes dancing again. ¡°We all have secrets, Oli.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yeah you do. Have you told Beryl and Rose yet?¡±

    ¡°Told them what?¡± The bitterness began to build in Oliver¡¯s chest again. There was only one thing the celestial could be talking about, but there was no way they could know that! He could barely even admit it to himself most of the time!

    Cadence¡¯s smile slowly died away. She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re not ready yet. It can take a while sometimes. But¡­ Well, it looks like we¡¯ll be spending a bit of time together. Let me know if you want to talk about it sometime, okay?¡±

    The room seemed to dance in Oliver¡¯s gaze. He could swear he could feel his own heartbeat in his ears as this gir- this celestial, with their mixed, bold, open presentation, spoke to him so easily, as if they could see the darkest secret in his heart, as if they had shined a light on it.

    After a moment, Cadence frowned. ¡°Sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have pushed. But I¡¯m¡­ well. Yeah.¡± They paused, unsure of how to proceed, and finally told him, ¡°It¡¯s okay. Don¡¯t worry.¡±

    They gave him a last, lingering look of sympathy, then they stood up, leaving Oli reeling, the ground underneath him crumbling away as her words unburied things he had hidden away years ago.

 Chapter 65 - Tenebres

    Tenebres tried not to fidget too much, but it was hard to stay composed with Allana kneeling between his legs, her dexterous fingers moving in slow, capable motions. He had been shocked to find that the street wraith¡¯s talents included something like this, but he couldn¡¯t deny her efficient skill. A particular movement, slow and gentle, drew a sharp intake of breath from him, followed by a shaky groan.

    Even more enticing was the simple intimacy of the moment. For Allana, whose hard-built walls were oh-so-difficult to slip through, times like this were some of the few the girl could express the true depth of her feelings for him. It made Tenebres glow inside, and made it that much harder to focus on holding still as she changed the bandages on his arms.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she apologized after his soft sound of pain. ¡°The scab held up a bit there.¡±

    She pressed a warm washcloth down on the next section of bandages, giving it a second to loosen the dried blood before she continued along.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­¡± Tenebres felt a little heat in the tapered tips of his ears. ¡°It¡¯s just, you know, having you down there like that¡­ It''s a little distracting.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm. I noticed.¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I might have you get dressed first next time, though.¡±

    Both youths chuckled, and Allana finished her ministrations promptly enough, her deft hands easily stripping the last of the old bandages. She then applied a mild healing ointment Alleghy had provided to the deepest scars along his forearms before wrapping his arms back up in fresh white bandages. Finally, Tenebres slipped on the long gloves he had picked up days before, the tight leather covering his arms up to the elbows and hiding the bandages from sight but leaving his fingers uncovered.

    Fortunately, the more shallow wounds on his upper arms and shoulders had closed relatively quickly, leaving behind only smooth silver scars, light enough that you had to inspect them closely to notice the patterns in them. Otherwise, Tenebres might¡¯ve had to start wearing clothes more concealing than the tight, sleeveless tunics he preferred, and that would¡¯ve been truly unacceptable.

    ¡°Well, while you¡¯re down there¡­¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes at the suggestion. ¡°Not today, Seo. Geoffrey wanted to see us, remember?¡±

    Tenebres brightened. In the week since they had killed Sloan, the assassin hadn¡¯t called on them, giving them the time to recover, as well as enjoy the newfound intimacy that had bloomed in the course of their fight with the necromancer. ¡°Do you think he found something?¡±

    ¡°Only one way to find out.¡± Allana casually slapped a hand against his¡­ thigh, and told him, ¡°Now get some pants on so we can go.¡±

    #

    ¡°There¡¯s good news and bad news.¡±

    Rather than his office, Geoffrey had directed them to his lounge for this conversation. He sipped from a full glass of his usual gloam whiskey as he spoke, but Tenebres had quickly come to the conclusion that the assassin¡¯s behavior was far from typical. In fact, he seemed mildly drunk, a level of inebriation he had never seen from the normally restrained man, which was only made more alarming by the early hour.

    Tenebres looked at Allana when he noted the man¡¯s slightly unsteady gait and rumpled clothes, but she seemed as confused as he was. They took a spot on the same small lounger, close enough to make casual contact, while Geoffrey sprawled in a plush chair of his own.

    ¡°The good news is that our friend Sloan was a shockingly introspective journaler. That¡¯s a fine and good habit, but it does provide quite a bit of information after you get yourself killed.¡± Geoffrey gestured at a side table, where a beaten journal, stained by water and Rogue knew what else, sat unattended. ¡°From his writings, I was able to finally piece together our true quarry¨Ca corpse hag.¡±

    ¡°Is that the bad news?¡± Allana asked.

    ¡°Quite, and in more ways than one. It does explain some of what we¡¯ve been seeing¨Chags are habitually more cautious and cunning than actual undead, and so the careful system of cut-outs that has kept us from catching the monster¡¯s trail has begun to make sense.¡±

    ¡°Is that normal though?¡± Tenebres asked. ¡°I¡¯m not an expert, but some of Kellen¡¯s books had information about hags. I didn¡¯t think necromancy was one of their skills.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± Geoffrey gestured in frustration with his drink, spilling some over the side of the glass. He didn¡¯t seem to notice, instead taking another drink. ¡°I had to go up to Highwalk to find a scholar that could tell me about them. Corpse hags, like fury hags, are hags that have found a way to steal the magic of another outsider. In this case, our quarry managed to kill a true undead and take some death magic for herself. Not only does that give her access to necromancy, it allows her to hand out necromantic favors¨Cjust like these gifts we¡¯ve been seeing.¡±

    The man blew out a breath, shaking his head. ¡°That¡¯s why Sloan caught us with our pants down. Most undead outsiders are only able to grant one type of gift. After Algus had the gift of flesh, I assumed the same would hold true of Sloan. None of us were ready for what his gift of bone meant.¡±

    Allana started to ask something, but the assassin continued talking without so much as glancing at her, as if he hadn¡¯t even noticed her attempt to speak. ¡°The real bad news is that apparently our hag ran up against Telik¡¯s hag, and the two had a bit of a spat.¡± Geoffrey chuckled at his own words and took another drink. ¡°Sloan seemed to think there were only a couple others who had gained her favor before she fled. Algus, and perhaps one other.¡±

    Allana and Tenebres traded another look.

    ¡°Was that¡­ the good news?¡± Tenebres asked. ¡°Or bad news?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know!¡± Geoffrey exclaimed, his frustration obvious. He drained the rest of his glass in a single swallow and stood up, going to grab the rest of the bottle. The man¡¯s gait was only slightly unsteady, a testament to his high level resilience, but Tenebres couldn¡¯t help but wonder how much alcohol it took to get him even that far.

    ¡°Are¡­ are you okay?¡± Tenebres asked. He exchanged a worried look with Allana as Geoffrey carried the half-full bottle back to his chair.

    The man pursed his lips as he sat down, studying the two of them. His eyes turned noticeably to the ornate clock ticking away on one wall. ¡°Mmm. I suppose it¡¯s been a few weeks since the last time my supposed students extorted information I don¡¯t want to give them out of me, hmm?¡±

    Tenebres blinked at the sudden venom in the man¡¯s tone.

    ¡°Geoffrey, it¡¯s not like that!¡± Allana shot back. Tenebres could feel the sudden tenseness in her as the man¡¯s tone stoked her anger.

    Before she could get much more fuel on the fire, the assassin sagged in place, like a sail without wind. He waved a hand. ¡°Of course not, of course not.¡± The man heaved a heavy sigh. His downcast eyes focused on the bottle of potent liquor he held in one hand. ¡°Today is the day my family was ruined, you know. Twelve years ago.¡±

    ¡°Your family?¡± Tenebres asked.

    Allana was quicker on the uptake, apparently, but sounded even more confused when she asked, ¡°You were a noble?¡±

    ¡°Your last gift,¡± Tenebres realized. ¡°¡®A remnant of your misspent youth,¡¯ you said, right? Is it a Noble gift?¡±

    ¡°Quick as always, Tenebres.¡± Geoffrey smiled lazily and took a sip straight from the bottle. "My family wasn''t doing so well, you see." He gestured at his golden hair, then his fair skin. "We had some Arsiletian blood, a few generations back, but not enough to really be in good with Old Gold families. And, inevitably, my father made the worst mistake a noble can. He began to put scheming over improving."

    The two youths stared at the master assassin, stunned. In all the time they had worked with Geoffrey, he had never been so open with them about anything, much less his past. Allana seemed to be staying carefully quiet, not wanting to break whatever spell he seemed to be under, and Tenebres followed her lead.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "So, yes, that''s how I got my gift from the Noble. The gift of the spy, perfect for trying to get one up on the other families... Unfortunately, the old man didn¡¯t have the most subtle touch in the world. He was caught soon thereafter, and the King came down on him hard. An object lesson, you might say.¡± Geoffrey smiled gently, clearly reflective, and took another pull straight from the bottle. "Twelve years¡­ Well, our name wasn''t worth dirt after that. Six generations of Gerrots, done. Well, my eldest brother, he couldn''t accept that. Last I heard, he took off with what little he could claim as his inheritance to prove himself and make his name in Elliven.

    ¡°I check in on him every now and again¨Cin the years since, he''s become every bit the schemer our father was, though admittedly, he¡¯s a fair bit better at it. My little sister, she had barely even come into her gifts when it all happened. She just took right off. Signed on with this silver knight she met Rogue knows where, gave up the family name, and left, never to be seen again. And I..."

    He sighed and gave the bottle of expensive, potent gloam whiskey a mournful look. "I crawled into a bottle for a few years and didn''t come out. Of course, I had to make enough cash to keep myself in the drink, but I found soon enough that all my dueling experience and talent for espionage made me quite good at killing people. And as it turned out, no small number of people were willing to pay a pretty penny to see their enemies dead. Eventually, the Rogue saw fit to transmute my old ensouled gift into the gift of the assassin, and," he spread his arms, gesturing wide at the eloquent lounge, "here I am."

    "Only you crawled out of the bottle at some point," Tenebres pointed out.

    Allana dryly added, ¡°Prior to tonight, at least.¡±

    "Heh," Geoffrey laughed dryly. "That I did, through no fault of my own. No, someone came and pulled me out, gave me something worth fighting for again." The man drew a deep breath¨Cthen he slid the stopper back into the bottle of whiskey, the motion seeming somehow forced and more than a little reluctant. "But that''ll be a story for another time. Run along, you two, your usual pay is by the door. Hoist a drink or two to my old man, alright?"

    ¡°What about you?¡± Allana asked.

    Geoffrey waved a hand, the motion increasingly vague. ¡°I¡¯m going to go sleep it off. Not the best way to spend a day, but better than¡­¡± His eyes drifted back to the bottle of gloam whiskey. He was silent for a moment, then he shook his head forcefully.

    ¡°Allana. You wanted a bottle of this stuff, right?¡±

    Allana frowned, but nodded cautiously.

    ¡°Good. Take this one. Better it¡¯s not be here, today.¡±

    Tenebres frowned at the man, his scars itching underneath his bandages. Once again, he didn¡¯t get the chance to ask the master assassin about the new effects of his gift¨Cbut clearly, today wasn¡¯t the day.

    That was fine. There was always tomorrow.

    #

    ¡°Well that was certainly odd,¡± Tenebres said.

    ¡°You can say that again.¡±

    After leaving Geoffrey¡¯s, the pair returned to their tiny apartment. Tenebres had expected Allana to immediately open the bottle Geoffrey had given her, but she surprised him by putting it up on a shelf. The girl was clearly as conflicted about his odd behavior as Tenebres was.

    ¡°You really think he¡¯s a noble?¡± Allana asked, clearly troubled at the thought.

    Tenebres shrugged. ¡°As far as I know, he¡¯s never lied to us before. And his pain seemed real enough.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Allana admitted with a frown. ¡°I guess it makes some sense, with the way he acts.¡±

    ¡°The way he acts?¡± Tenebres asked, his lips tugging up into a small smile. ¡°How is that?¡±

    ¡°So arrogant, you know? Prideful, and bossy, like he knows it all.¡±

    Tenebres pursed his lips. ¡°Have you ever met a noble before?¡±

    Allana narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, me neither.¡±

    The two sat in pensive silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Tenebres and Allana had both been through plenty of trauma in their young lives, but Geoffrey had seemed so far above all of that¨Cskilled and dangerous and untouchable. In some ways, it tarnished the image of the master assassin to see him just as troubled by his past as Tenebres himself so often was. In a more significant way, though, it kindled some small hope in his mind. After all, if Geoffrey could rise above his past, who was to say that he and Allana couldn¡¯t do the same?

    Abruptly, Allana stood up, moving to the apartment¡¯s single window to pull the curtain closed. The sun was bright enough that the room wasn¡¯t quite plunged into complete darkness from the act, but Tenebres felt himself relax a little in the sudden gloom.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Tenebres asked.

    ¡°If we¡¯re taking the day off, I want some more sleep,¡± she explained. Based on the movements of her vague shape in the dimness, Allana seemed to be disrobing, and even after the nights they had spent together, he found himself wishing for an awareness boon, if only to see her.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we could come up with something more fun to do than a nap¡­¡± Tenebres suggested, his fingers sliding into the waist of his own pants.

    Allana huffed a dry laugh, then he felt the girl¡¯s athletic figure slide into bed with him. ¡°Oh? Like what?¡±

    ¡°Well, I do recall us being interrupted this morning¡­¡±

    Allana chuckled again. This time, the sound was much closer, a warm breath of amusement in one of his long tapered ears sending shivers down his spine.

    ¡°Mmm¡­ I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be the one on my knees this time, though¡­¡±

    #

    The sun had long since set by the time the couple made their way to their usual table at the Blackened Claw.

    In the slums of Lowrun, reputable bars were few and far between, with most being more dangerous than the streets and many others hosting varieties of vices neither of the youths had any interest in. Bors¡¯s establishment, the same place they had met months before, catered to those with the combination of reputation and wealth specific to mid-ranking members of criminal organizations. At one point, it had been Telik¡¯s auspices that had earned Allana her place in the Claw, but of late, word had gotten out that the most feared assassin in Emeston had two neophytes working with him.

    Dinner was simple. It was a weeknight crowd, and a sparse one at that, considering the hour. Normally, the Claw was bustling at suppertime, but today there were less than a dozen others eating with Tenebres and Allana, all of whom were giving the two a wider berth than they were used to. But the hearty stew was still delicious, and after the intimate afternoon they had shared, Tenebres was ravenous.

    ¡°So I was thinking,¡± he started to say between bites.

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± Allana teased. ¡°I thought you seemed a little brainless on our way here.¡±

    Tenebres stuck out his tongue at her, and the wraith girl¡¯s smile grew a shade wicked. ¡°I think we did plenty of that already today.¡±

    Tenebres turned back to his stew before Allana could see the blush her bawdy joke brought on. ¡°What I was saying was, I was thinking about something Geoffrey said.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°He mentioned the Rogue changed one of his gifts, right? ¡®Transmuted¡¯ it? Have you ever heard of that?¡±

    Allana frowned. ¡°You¡¯re right. I thought you couldn¡¯t get rid of a gift once you had it?¡±

    Tenebres nodded. ¡°As far as I know, you can¡¯t. But according to him, he did. After he started killing people, too¨Cthat must¡¯ve been how he got his gift of the assassin.¡±

    ¡°I suppose the gift of the assassin isn¡¯t exactly a nobility-friendly gift,¡± Allana acknowledged. ¡°But so what?¡±

    ¡°Well, he said he got the gift of the spy as a noble, right? That¡¯s a gift granted by the Noble archetype, but that means it''s an Initiate level blessing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I know enough to know the Noble can only give gifts at Initiate, in the third gift slot. But that¡¯s true of the Rogue too so¡­ how can he have the spy and assassin gifts?¡±

    Allana frowned, but after a moment, she shrugged. ¡°Just one more thing to ask him about. That and your scars.¡±

    Tenebres shrugged too, turning back to his stew. Allana was bright, but her mind worked in very different ways to Tenebres. From his hodgepodge studies, he certainly knew more about gift theory than she did, but it was more than that. Allana was a dedicated pragmatist. The specific origin of Geoffrey¡¯s gifts just didn¡¯t matter to her the way it did to him.

    ¡°It¡¯s weird in here tonight,¡± Allana noted.

    Tenebres looked around the normally bustling bar. In just the short time since they had arrived, more people had cleared out, making the space between them and the few remaining patrons ever wider. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Allana frowned. ¡°I think I have some idea... Bors!¡±

    The big man, the bartender and owner of the Blackened Claw started at her call. Bors was a veteran of the streets of Lowrun, with the reputation and connections to enforce the neutrality necessary for his business to thrive. Fights happened at the Blackened Claw, of course¨CTenebres and Allana had met in one such brawl¨Cbut deaths were rare, and the large bartender wasn¡¯t afraid to ply his cudgel on anyone who tried to push things too far.

    Still, he looked nervous when Allana called him over. He flashed a look at the few patrons left even as two more of them got up and hurried out.

    Apparently that reaction was confirmation enough. Allana stood up without waiting for Bors. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Her tone was low and urgent, and Tenebres followed along immediately. The two walked briskly out of the Claw without a look back, projecting the carefully-controlled menace and complete confidence expected of two young assassins as they left.

    Only once they were out in the night air did Tenebres ask for an explanation, neither of them slowing their steps. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± he murmured.

    ¡°The only thing that would empty the Claw out like that is word of a hit. A big one. None of the people in there were Telik¡¯s¨Che must be making a move. Rumor got around, enough so that all the others are keeping their heads down until it¡¯s over.¡±

    Tenebres frowned. ¡°But we didn¡¯t hear anything.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°That can¡¯t be good.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± The answer to his comment came not from Allana, but from a deep voice in a nearby alley.

    Allana whirled on the voice, conjuring her daggers, while Tenebres moved behind her and lifted a hand towards the alley.

    That same voice chuckled as a broad shape moved from the deep shadows of the alley and emerged onto the street.

    ¡°Long time, no see,¡± Vernen said, his voice low with menace. The big man cracked his knuckles as he walked into the light. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking forward to this.¡±

 Chapter 66 - Allana

    ¡°You sure about this, Vern?¡± Allana asked.

    Telik¡¯s thug looked much the same as he had the last time she saw him, on the night that she had first met Tenebres. He was still large, at least a foot taller than Allana, and she was far from short. He still had a gut that combined with his naturally broad shoulders to make him look even larger, and a mop of lank brown hair that hung down over his round face unflatteringly. He still looked like an oversized child more than the professional bruiser he was¨Cbut Allana had trained alongside him as they earned Telik¡¯s favor, and she knew he was astoundingly strong, even without his gifts.

    Allana kept talking, trying to avoid the imminent fight. They didn¡¯t have time for this! ¡°I know I haven¡¯t been around much lately, but the old man himself sent me to work with Geoffrey. I don¡¯t think he¡¯d like you starting things with me like this.¡±

    Vern chuckled, the sound deep and brutish. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t rely on that, wraith bitch. Who do you think sent me?¡±

    Allana¡¯s eyes narrowed, and she immediately settled down into a fighting crouch. Her hands, each holding one of her daggers, came up to a ready position. ¡°What are you saying? Why would Telik do that?¡±

    ¡°Another behind us,¡± Tenebres whispered.

    Allana twitched her head in acknowledgement, trusting his word without looking for herself. That would be Porgit, Vern¡¯s rat-faced friend. Another of the boys she had grown up beside.

    ¡°You think you¡¯re so smart¡­¡± Vern rumbled, oblivious to the quick exchange between the two assassins. ¡°Telik caught on, though. He found out what you¡¯re up to¨Cand now I get to kill the both of you, while the boss kills that moony fop master of yours.¡±

    Allana and Tenebres had both pieced things together long before the bruiser finished his answer, and they were already quietly coordinating with each other.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take Vern,¡± she told him. ¡°You¡¯ll have to deal with Porg though.¡±

    ¡°No problem,¡± Tenebres said confidently. Like her, he must¡¯ve been thinking of how easily they beat these two last time things came to blows. But Allana knew it wouldn¡¯t be so easy this time. The two thugs were ready for a fight, sober and in the mindset to kill, and on top of that, they had Telik¡¯s permission and their wounded egos to motivate them. This would be a completely different fight than the last time they met.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna enjoy this,¡± Vern continued, still rambling as much to himself as her or Tenebres. ¡°Might just keep you alive for a bit, after I beat you senseless. Could come up with some good uses for you. Won¡¯t even be able to see the bruises, after all.¡±

    Allana rolled her eyes. If the idiot was just going to keep rambling, she was more than happy to take the initiative for herself.

    Without a word, Allana lunged forward, both daggers flashing. Vern didn¡¯t have the speed to react, and in his sadistic monologuing, she had caught him completely by surprise. Allana had practiced her killing blows thoroughly since her sloppy murder of Algus months before, and her hands moved smoothly, guiding one dagger unerringly at Vern¡¯s ribs, where it would puncture a lung, while the other thrusted up at his chin to stab through his brain.

    Unfortunately, both attacks proved useless.

    Vern didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t even try to dodge. He wasn¡¯t even wearing armor, just a misshapen canvas tunic. He simply held his ground¨Cand both of Allana¡¯s daggers failed to cut into his exposed flesh. It was like his skin itself was as strong as steel, and her perfectly executed attacks did little more than dimple his skin, not even drawing blood.

    Allana¡¯s eyes went wide, even as Vern drew back a fist. His brand, a coin overlaid with a fist, was marked in crude black lines on the back of his hand. His own ensouled item, a thick pair of brass knuckles, appeared around his fingers as he punched her, sending Allana flying across the road to slam into the stone wall of the building across from the alley Vern had emerged from. Her daggers went flying, each clanging once against the ground before vanishing.

    Vern chuckled darkly as he slowly moved towards her. ¡°Told you, bitch. It¡¯s useless. While you¡¯ve been fooling around with your little boyfriend, the boss got me over the line to Initiate. That¡¯s what we¡¯ve been waiting for so long, but now it''s all worth it. Your pathetic little attacks can¡¯t do shit!¡±

    The thug¡¯s words reminded her to look down the street, where Tenebres was fighting Porg. The two had engaged in ranged combat; Porg hurled globs of water at Tenebres to counter his force spells, the physical projectiles able to absorb the energy of Tenebres¡¯s immaterial magic. With every exchange, Porg was pacing slowly towards his opponent, and Allana knew that once he was close enough, the ragged boy would be able to bring his gift of the rat into play. The only good news was that Porg clearly hadn¡¯t leveled up the way his partner had, giving Tenebres a fighting chance¨Cbut it was still a fight between a Novice and an Apprentice.

    Unfortunately, Allana didn¡¯t have time to help Tenebres. She had her own enemy bearing down on her, still wildly shouting vile threats.

    ¡°You¡¯re not even paying attention, are you bitch?¡± Vern suddenly roared, realizing he was being ignored.

    Allana gave him a tired smile. ¡°Of course not. What¡¯s the point of listening to the moronic ravings of a dead man?¡±

    Vern let out a wordless shout of rage and suddenly barreled towards her¨Cbut Allana¡¯s taunt had put the fight back on her terms. She knew Vern¡¯s blessings just as well as he knew hers¨Cthe gift of the bandit and the gift of fortitude, the latter tied to his ensouled item. The gift of the bandit, even at Initiate level, gave him a couple simple special attacks and the strength and speed to use them, but the gift of fortitude was the real problem. Not only did it massively boost his resilience, it was obviously the source of the bruiser¡¯s potent defenses. What neither of them did, however, was boost his coordination.

    So as the big man charged her, he lacked the balance and reflexes to adjust his momentum, which made it childs play for Allana to roll aside and dodge the brutal attack, dancing behind the crude manchild.

    Of course, even given that, she hadn¡¯t anticipated exactly how powerful the attack ended up being. Rather than hit her, Vern¡¯s attack slammed into the side of the building she had been thrown against, but the big man didn¡¯t bounce off the way she had expected. Instead, his lowered shoulder and raised fists proved as just as invulnerable to the stone of the building as they had to her daggers, and he shattered through the front wall, leaving behind a massive, vaguely Vern-sized hole.

    Allana blinked, shocked at just how powerful Initiate level had made him. If she took even a glancing blow from one of his special attacks, she¡¯d be lucky to survive, much less continue the fight. Of course, she hadn¡¯t needed Geoffrey¡¯s training to know that letting a larger, stronger enemy get his hands on her was a bad idea. It was basic self-defense¨Cshe was just working on a slimmer margin than usual.

    The key was that her strengths were still Vern¡¯s weaknesses. He was fast and strong and difficult to injure, but just as she¡¯d exploited his lack of coordination, she¡¯d need to take advantage of his unboosted awareness and stamina. Before the bruiser could emerge from the wreckage of his charge, Allana wrapped a Veil around herself.

    [Obscuring Veil] - Active, Illusion - Manifest an illusion that partially masks you from conventional senses. Veil is most effective in darkness or other obscuring conditions. Minor focus cost recurs as long as the veil is active.

    The shadows of the night would help make the veil more effective, but Allana knew the tax that even the minor cost would take if she kept it going for too long. She needed to take advantage of every moment.

    By the time Vern emerged from the shattered building, his beady eyes scanning for her, Allana was nowhere to be seen.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Where are you, bitch?¡± he rumbled, turning slowly, warily.

    Of course, Allana didn¡¯t say anything. Who would respond to something like that? She was hiding, obviously. Instead of snarking back at him, she silently flicked her hands and reconjured her daggers.

    She kept the heavier cutting blade bare of poison, remembering how quickly she was disarmed after Vern¡¯s first hit. Her poisons would be her most dangerous weapon in this fight, and she couldn¡¯t afford to keep manifesting them everytime she lost her daggers. Her needle-thin brass dagger, however, she coated with her most potent poison.

    [Toxic Manifestation] - Active, Conjuration - Manifest a simple poison that causes ongoing resilience damage. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

    [Poisoned Conjuration] - Poison, Stealth - Passive, Conjuration - Ensouled items may be conjured already coated in the poison from toxic manifestation. Poisons conjured this way have their quintessence cost reduced by one stage.

    Vern¡¯s lip lifted in a snarl as he reached the end of his patience. ¡°Fine then, if you wanna hide, I¡¯ll just go kill the other bitch!¡±

    Vern turned towards Tenebres, and Allana silently cursed. The androgynous mage had recovered from his rough start against Porg, landing some hits with force missiles from unexpected angles, but the other boy had responded with a floating disk of water, which moved quickly to easily absorb the immaterial projectiles. Tenebres¡¯s spells lacked the punch to harm Vern in any meaningful way, and the slender boy wouldn¡¯t be able to dodge the thug¡¯s special attacks the way Allana had.

    Her hand forced, Allana dashed in at Vern. The immature thug had clearly expected the move, however, and whirled even as Allana, still hidden in her veil, approached. A pair of potent punches swept through the space directly behind him¨Cwhich is why Allana had come in from his left side. Even the boy¡¯s most brilliant gambit was fairly simple-minded compared to the exercises Geoffrey had been putting Allana through for the past couple months. Vern trying to out-think her had only put the fight more in Allana¡¯s favor.

    Just as she struck, the attack shredding her veil, Allana triggered her only special attack.

    [Sneak Attack] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Can only be used on targets unaware of your location. Lesser stamina cost.

    Whatever defensive ability Vern was using, it had to have its limits. At Initiate, there was no way he could just keep up a passive third tier defense, not without draining his focus rapidly, and Allana refused to believe Vern could have a very large focus attribute to pull from. If his defense had tier two potency, then her special attack would equal things out. The results would be the same as if neither of them had any magic.

    Allana¡¯s unpoisoned iron dagger swept up, leaving a long, bloody slash along his upper arm, while her poisoned stiletto slipped between his ribs, its entire length plunging into his side smoothly.

    It worked!

    Allana didn¡¯t wait around to see him react, reversing her momentum and leaping backwards a fraction of a second before his flailing counter-attack swept through the space she had been. She left the slender dagger buried in Vern¡¯s side, where its coating of viscous poison would continue soaking into the bruiser¡¯s flesh.

    The oversized brute reached down to the protruding handle of the dagger, but even the slightest tug at it made his face go pale. Allana grinned at that discomfort. Resilience was fine and well, but it didn¡¯t just turn his body¡¯s pain off. He couldn¡¯t heal until he pulled the dagger out, and as long as it was in there, her poison would only get worse. Telik had no doubt told his enforcer about her gift¡¯s poison¨Cit was a resilience-based toxin. The longer Vern was exposed, the harder it would be for him to heal himself, and once the attribute was dragged low enough, the poison would start actively killing him.

    Allana saw the look of resolve on the thug¡¯s rounded, immature face when he decided to pull the dagger free anyways¨Cand the moment he winced, she was moving, another veil pulled up around herself. Knowing he¡¯d be waiting for her this time, she kept her distance, watching as he jerked the dagger free and threw it away. Immediately, blood began pouring out of the wound in his side, mixed with the rotten off-green shade of her poison. Vern¡¯s face screwed up in concentration, and the wound quickly closed. Yet another ability from his gift of fortitude¨Che had to be burning through his stamina and focus at this point.

    Still, she didn¡¯t move in to attack. Even a quick self-heal like that wouldn¡¯t be enough to cure her strongest poison, so this fight was on a clock, whether the oversized idiot knew it or not.

    He glanced around for her futilely, but Allana knew she couldn¡¯t play him like this for too long. Eventually he¡¯d just  start going for Tenebres again, and she couldn¡¯t let him force her hand. So, just before his patience ran out, the assassin slipped one of the numerous bracelets off of her wrist and gently tossed it.

    The copper accessory landed with a soft rattle to Vern¡¯s side, and the bruiser immediately lashed out with another punch, mistaking the sound for Allana¡¯s presence.

    Idiot. Allana grinned to herself as she flashed across the distance between them, Sneak Attack enhancing her attack again now that he had lost her. This time, her iron dagger left a long, bloody furrow across Vern¡¯s back.

    The man shouted at the sudden pain and whirled around, but Allana was already dancing away, disappearing under another veil. And so it went, Allana using her own coordination and intelligence to play her powerful foe in circles, keeping him from landing even a glancing hit on her. Every attack came from an unexpected direction, and was followed by her making space and disappearing under another veil. Her head was soon throbbing from the focus cost of so many veils, but fortunately, the ability was built for long term use. Her rapid, flickering use of the illusion was enough to confuse her opponent while minimizing the cost.

    Allana carefully avoided any further use of her poison abilities, nursing her remaining quintessence for the next fight to come. She trusted that, even given Vern¡¯s seemingly superhuman resilience, her first poisoned strike was doing its job, and when she saw his wounds no longer healing, she knew that trust was well-placed. Telik¡¯s top enforcer had been run ragged, and now it was time to end this.

    Allana lunged forward, not bothering with Sneak Attack anymore, her twin daggers flashing through lightning-fast combo after combo. Vern¡¯s passive defense was running out of whatever it used for fuel, and increasingly, her attacks left more and more cuts on the big man. Still, he didn¡¯t go down, and Allana was forced to dance back yet again before the resilient manchild had the chance to hit back.

    A cry drew her attention. Tenebres had distracted Porg, making the ragged boy use his rat gift to defend himself against one of Tenebres¡¯s imps¨Cthe green one with the big claws. Distracted as he was, Porg¡¯s defense was sloppy when Tenebres sent another attack at him. Rather than another immaterial force missile, this time Tenebres had used his evocation to propel the little dagger Allana had bought him for self-defense. The same sheet of water that had easily diffused Tenebres¡¯s force missiles was insufficient to stop the point of a dagger moving as fast as a shot arrow, and Tenebres¡¯s weapon passed through the feeble aqueous shield.

    Porg spinning to the ground, a dagger buried in his neck, marked the turning point of the fight. With Tenebres and his imp joining the battle against Vern, Allana¡¯s poison proved its efficacy. In the end, it was Tenebres who ended things, darting in even as Allana dodged a clumsy swing of the large boy¡¯s fist. His hand glowed with dark power as he struck Vern in the chest with an open-palmed strike¨Cand the enforcer froze in place. His eyes went wide, his lips pulling down even as his neck muscles tensed in a horrifying rictus.

    Without a word, Telik¡¯s chief enforcer fell, dead, to the cobblestones.

    Feat Accomplished

    [Gift of Poison]: Defeat a higher level enemy through use of poison

    Reward: 20% Experience

    [Gift of Poison] can only receive 11% experience before leveling up

    Excess experience is lost

    ¡°What?¡± Allana¡¯s eyes went wide as she saw the message appear in her vision, phantom letters that somehow failed to obstruct her surroundings. Between her shoulder blades, she felt an odd itching, as power flowed through the dagger-and-droplet shape of her gift brands.

    ¡°Allana?¡± Tenebres asked. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    [Gift of Poison] has leveled up!

    [Gift of Poison]

    Level: Initiate

    Experience: -

    Receive and level a third gift to progress to Adept

    Ability Progression: [Toxic Manifestation] - Active, Conjuration - Create a variety of magical poisons, targeting any single attribute. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

    Ability Progression: [Poison Immunity] - Passive, Triggered, Healing - Quintessence is consumed automatically to negate poisons affecting you. Cost is relative to potency and volume of the poison. Mundane or tier one potency poisons are negated at no cost.

    Boon Progression: [Master of Poison] - Boon - Major boost to coordination and resilience.

    ¡°Allana?¡±

    Tenebres shook her arm, and Allana blinked, suddenly conscious of how many times he had repeated her name, trying to get her attention.

    She shook her head out. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Apparently Vern managed to be good for something after all.¡±

    Tenebres arched an eyebrow, but Allana held up a hand. ¡°No time. It doesn¡¯t matter. We need to get to Geoffrey¡¯s, now.¡±

    The boy¡¯s eyes went wide as he realized what she had already figured out. ¡°Right.¡±

    Allana spared one last glance at the bodies of the two thugs. In death, she was still unable to consider them men. They were boys, immature and weak-willed and selfish. But Allana had also known them longer than anyone else in her life, and they were in many ways just as much victims of Telik as she was.

    That didn¡¯t change the necessity of what she had to do to them. They, like her, had grown up in the shadowed reaches of the city, and in Emeston, ruthlessness was a way of life. This was, simply, how it had to be. For a time, she had begun to leave that way of thinking behind. Tenebres had given her the ability to hope that her life could be more. But when it came down to it¡­ killing them had simply been the easiest way.

    Allana shook her head a final time, and ran off after Tenebres. She knew they were already too late. She once again knew better than to hope. But she ran nevertheless, and Tenebres ran alongside her.

 Chapter 67 - Cadence

    After so long on the road with Storyteller, endlessly walking from village to village, traveling with Hugo¡¯s Trading Company had proven far more relaxing than Cadence had anticipated. She only had to walk part of the day, rotating in shifts with the other young gifted, and she got to spend the rest of her time in the shadowed, albeit bumpy, confines of one of the company¡¯s three wagons.

    She spent the entire first day getting to know the two warden recruits in their wagon. Oliver, unfortunately, continued to prove stand-offish. Cadence couldn¡¯t tell if that was due more to his injured pride or the dysphoria sparked by the celestial¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Oli¡¯s just like that,¡± Beryl told Cadence when she asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s socialized with normal people very much. He can be a bit¡­ oblivious.¡±

    ¡°I noticed¡­ he¡¯s a noble, right?¡±

    ¡°Yep. You should¡¯ve seen him the first night we met, it was like he¡¯d never talked to a girl before.¡± Beryl chuckled, the sound earthy. Cadence had quickly come to appreciate the larger girl¡¯s blunt, irreverent manner, and enjoyed chatting with her. ¡°Rose has been trying to trip him into bed since we left Correntry, and I don¡¯t even think he¡¯s noticed.¡±

    ¡°So how¡¯d he end up here?¡±

    Beryl shrugged her massive shoulders. ¡°He told us the whole story, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s my place to share. Suffice it to say he and his family don¡¯t get on great.¡±

    ¡°I could imagine¡­¡± Cadence mused, remembering a similar story, another piece of the aggressive squire¡¯s puzzle slipping into place.

    In the days that followed, Cadence took the chance to meet the other members of the company. For the first time in what felt like ages, she found herself surrounded by people her level or lower, who her Gift Divination would work on.

    [Gift Divination] - Wanderer, Echo - Active, Utility, Soul - Learn the gifts possessed by a target. Can only be used on targets your level or lower.

    It was an interesting mix of gifts that made the caravan work. Paul and Derrik were Hugo¡¯s porters, large men of early middle-age who made a living off their gift of the laborer. Provided by the Elder, the gift of the laborer was common in the Heartlands, and Cadence had seen it in both Felisen¡¯s loggers and Kellister¡¯s stone workers. It provided a strength buff at a steep stamina cost, ameliorated by the gift¡¯s major stamina boon, and a passive potency buff to non-combat tools. With some experimentation, Cadence was pleased to find that her hatchet was included in that category, making it a handy one to copy.

    Aren and Ben were younger men, only a year or two older than Cadence. They had taken up with Hugo to study trade and economics in pursuit of their own gift of the merchant. Neither had made it yet¨Clike the Mage, the Scholar required a formal exam to receive a gift¨Cbut Cadence took the chance to copy Hugo¡¯s gift to get a feel for its powers. Its first ability, Merchant¡¯s Eye, was an identification power not dissimilar to Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge, but focused on appraising the value of an item, while its second, Inventory, provided a mental inventory list that updated itself.

    Neither would be of exceptional use to Cadence, but she was delighted nonetheless. Like the Elder, the Scholar primarily offered non-combat gifts, and thus far Cadence had little chance to experience the advantages they could provide to merchants and similarly skilled tradespeople.

    Harriet was similarly intriguing. The rancher and carpenter were both blessings Cadence had become familiar with before she even left Felisen, but seeing the way the experienced teamster used them in combination to tend to the caravan¡¯s wagons and draft animals alike was fascinating.

    ¡°A trade-gifted like me,¡± Harriet explained, ¡°can demand a fair price for their work, even at Novice level.¡± The woman lifted a weathered hand to shade her deeply tanned face, inspecting the sun¡¯s current position in the sky before she continued. ¡°You can always tell a shrewd merchant because they¡¯ll employ someone with my gifts. The cost of my wages doesn¡¯t begin to compare to what Hugo would lose without me doing maintenance on his wagons and keeping the goats healthy.¡±

    #

    Their third night out of Jellis, Cadence had the chance to get Oliver alone for the first time since her attempt to talk to him that first night. Since then, he had made a concerted effort to always keep at least one of the warden girls around, as if he sensed Cadence¡¯s reluctance to bring up the topic of his gender in front of them. Admittedly, he was right¨CCadence was too sympathetic of Oli¡¯s situation to out him in front of either girl, but with each passing day of the squire¡¯s abrasive behavior and sullen silences, Cadence found her sympathy quickly dwindling.

    So, after dinner, while everyone else was gathering around the fire, Cadence snuck up behind Oliver.

    ¡°Hey Oli, do you have a sister?¡±

    The boy turned towards her, his brow furrowed. ¡°I mean¡­ yes? Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Her name is Alyssia, right?¡±

    Oliver blinked in surprise, one eyebrow arching. ¡°Yes? Did Rose or Beryl tell you that?¡±

    Cadence smiled. ¡°Nope. I actually met her, just a little while before I got to Jellis. She was working with the hunters in this little village named Kellister.¡±

    Cadence started to walk idly, and Oliver followed as she told him about her time in Kellister, about the gnoll raid and training with Alyssia. He stayed close to her, soaking in her stories about a family member he clearly missed, and Cadence soon felt she had a good handle on what had sent Oliver away from his home, his family, and a sister he loved.

    By the time she finished her story, skipping over the sensitive topics of Storyteller¡¯s working at the Cairn Glade and the last night Cadence and Alyssia had spent together, they were seated on the edge of the empty road, the caravan¡¯s campfire a distant light behind them. The grass on the side of the road was soft and lush with summertime. Overhead, stars wheeled in a vast tapestry that reminded Cadence of the view from the Bonfire Hill in Felisen.

    ¡°She¡¯s probably on her way back to Elliven by now,¡± Cadence concluded. ¡°She was so close to Initiate when I left, I have no doubt she¡¯s gotten her third gift by now and started her journey home.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Oli chuckled. ¡°I had almost forgotten. Adeline told Alyssia that she¡¯d help her get her gifts over the line. I don¡¯t even know when she managed that.¡±

    Cadence smiled. ¡°I will say, she¡¯s a much better fighter than you. I never even got close to beating her.¡±

    Oliver rolled his eyes and leaned over, bumping a shoulder against hers. Cadence recognized it as the same gesture Alyssia had made that night in Kellister. It was the friendliest the boy had been since they met. ¡°Me either. She always was better than me, even before we got our gifts.¡±

    Cadence nodded easily, her eyes up on the stars. It was time to take another shot. ¡°Is that why your family chose her to be the sentinel? Or was it that you were eclipsed?¡±

    Oliver went still next to her. She kept her eyes up, not risking scaring him away with a direct look. The calm stillness of the night, she hoped, provided a layer of insulation, a comfort that would make the noble less likely to push her away.

    They sat together in silence for a long moment. A gentle breeze blew down the road, and Cadence heard her companion blow out a long breath to join it. Finally, Oliver said, ¡°It was because she was older than me. But¡­My father never approved of me, either.¡±

    Cadence nodded, but didn¡¯t say anything more. Oliver took another moment, another deep breath, before continuing.

    ¡°I wrote these stories, when I was young. I wanted to wear dresses, to feel pretty. To be like my sister and her friends. To be sunny and beautiful and strong all at once¡­¡±

    ¡°Your father found them?¡± Cadence guessed.

    ¡°He burned them. He was ashamed.¡±

    Cadence frowned. She knew that the support she had received as she embraced the mercurial nature of her gender was a rarity. She still remembered the pain after Brian had met Caden, how poorly he had reacted to his girlfriend wanting to be his boyfriend sometimes¡­ But to burn Oli¡¯s stories like that? It was a profound act of violence. Cadence couldn¡¯t even imagine what it had done to the poor girl inside of the young noble who just wanted to feel accepted.

    ¡°How did you know?¡± Oli asked, voice trembling. ¡°No one else¡­ only Adeline had ever figured it out.¡±

    Cadence doubted that. From what she had seen of Oli¡¯s personality, she guessed the knight was simply the only one to be open about the revelation, for fear of provoking the exact same reaction Cadence had earned the first time she tried to broach the topic.

    ¡°You know I¡¯m celestial. It¡¯s not quite the same, but¡­ I recognized some familiar feelings in you.¡± Cadence turned to face Oli for the first time since the conversation had started. ¡°Do you remember what I said that caused you to attack me so aggressively, during our duel?¡±

    There was another moment of silence, then Oli replied, ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°¡®You''re such a boy,¡¯¡± Cadence recalled. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, by the way.  I saw how much it hurt you after I said it. I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ you know. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Oli eventually replied. ¡°I mean¡­ it¡¯s not, but¡­ thank you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Cadence swallowed, her throat tighter than she expected. ¡°With the others, how do you want me to¡­ you know? Refer to you?¡±

    Oli stayed quiet again, eyes up on the stars. ¡°For now¡­ I¡¯m just me. Oliver. A boy. Maybe once all this is over, then I¡¯ll¡­ Maybe.¡±

    Cadence shook her head. ¡°If that¡¯s what you want, I¡¯ll respect it. But you can¡¯t keep thinking of it that way.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t put it off forever. There¡¯s always going to be something else going on, a reason not to go ahead and be open about who you are. I¡¯ll respect your wishes, but we¡¯re going to keep talking.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Cadence couldn¡¯t decide exactly what it was she heard in Oli¡¯s voice with that word. A tremor of something. Fear, excitement, anxiety, hope. Maybe all of them at once.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Cadence leaned over and wrapped an arm around the self-proclaimed boy¡¯s shoulder, and felt the way he bobbed in place, the same tightness as his voice reflected in his muscles. ¡°You¡¯re not alone.¡±

    #

    The evening of their fifth day on the road north from Jellis had Cadence reclining in the back of what she had come to think of as the young wagon, which she shared with Oliver the two wardens from Correntry. As the novelty of the new experience began to wear off, Cadence quickly found herself going crazy from the tedium. There was nothing to do but take her turns walking and riding in the wagon, talking to her new friends, and trying to keep herself from going insane.

    She had tried one of Oliver''s books to pass the time, but found the tight scrawl of the text far too dry (and dense) for her inexperienced eyes. Instead, she found herself toying idly with a wooden puzzle box, an item Rose had picked up to pass the time in Jellis, while Oliver read silently across from her. Rose was taking her turn on the driver¡¯s bench, but the petite girl needed to fully focus on the team to keep them rolling in the right direction, lacking Beryl¡¯s casual strength.

    ¡°Well aren¡¯t you a peppy group.¡±

    Cadence¡¯s lips split in a smile as Beryl¡¯s voice broke the silence. Oliver barely looked up from his book, but Cadence happily put the puzzle box aside as the athletic girl hopped up into the back of the wagon.

    ¡°All quiet?¡± Cadence asked.

    ¡°So far. I was thinking though¡­ Rose!¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve gotta be pretty close to where the storm hit, right?¡±

    ¡°Definitely,¡± she called back. ¡°I can still see the broken branches.¡±

    ¡°That means it¡¯s going to happen soon,¡± Oli declared, putting down his book. ¡°We fought the specter that night during the storm. So if there¡¯s going to be another attack, it¡¯ll happen nearby.¡±

    ¡°We should sleep in shifts tonight,¡± Beryl suggested. ¡°Keep watch.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± Cadence volunteered. The trio shared a look, and Cadence shook her head at the clear doubt. ¡°No, no getting out of this. I came along to help, and I¡¯m taking a shift just like I have been the rest of the time.¡± Habitually, Cadence had been keeping Oli¡¯s Reinforced Defense ability reflected while riding with the caravan. The defensive power had more than proven its use when she used it against Oli.

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Oliver conceded, waving a hand. The eclipsed noble had opened up a bit since their late night conversation a couple nights before, but he was still brusque and irritable by nature. Cadence still wasn¡¯t sure if that was a result of his constant repression, or just who the silver squire was. ¡°For now, we need to keep up patrol. I¡¯ll take the last shift.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll come with,¡± Cadence said, hopping out of the wagon with him. When Oli arched an eyebrow at her, Cadence just responded with an innocent smile. She tilted her head towards the next wagon ahead in the caravan. Ben sat on the back of it, his feet dangling over the edge of the flatbed as he idly worked on a tally sheet, juggling numbers to calculate the caravan¡¯s expected profits. ¡°I want to talk to Ben about what he¡¯s working on.¡±

    Oli rolled his eyes. ¡°Sure you do.¡±

    Back on their wagon, Beryl relieved Rose, taking the draft goats¡¯ reins with one hand and letting the slender redhead get some rest. The two chatted casually while Oli and Cadence continued bickering.

    Ben looked up as they approached, a small smile lighting his face when he saw Cadence, and then an arrow lodged itself straight through his throat.

 Chapter 68 - Assassins

    Tenebres knew something was wrong even as they approached Geoffrey¡¯s home. There was something far more ominous and menacing than mere fog hanging thick in the street outside the finely appointed manor, something that slowed Tenebres¡¯s steps.

    Tenebres knew that Geoffrey¡¯s home was a statement. In a neighborhood, in a city, where every square foot of land was valuable, where tenements climbed six crooked stories high to accommodate as many of the trade city¡¯s working poor as possible, Geoffrey¡¯s finely appointed manor with its fenced in yard, its glass windows, and its well-maintained facade, stood out sharply.

    It was more than just a symbol of the master assassin¡¯s wealth and taste. The fact that his property line was respected, that the glass of his windows was not smashed, that the walls of his home remained free from defacement all demonstrated the capability of the man who dwelled within those four walls. It was a subtle display of the skill, power, and reputation that defined one of the most dangerous men in Emeston.

    That made the broken front door hanging off its hinges, lock bar shattered, an equally symbolic statement on multiple levels.

    ¡°Geoffrey¡­no¡­¡±

    Tenebres was sure Allana wasn¡¯t even aware of the words as they came out of her mouth, or of the desperate tone they carried.

    Power still hummed through Tenebres, the boosts his Sacrificial Victim had given him after Vernen¡¯s death burning in his muscles, desperate to be used. He felt the throb of the gift of the void in his chest, equally thirsty to be tapped upon. He hesitated.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Allana said, her voice low and urgent.

    Tenebres nodded, her voice and presence clearing the air around him of the foul reek of fear. It was time.

    #

    Allana was no stranger to anger. Since she was a girl, anger had kept her safe. It had become a weapon against potential predators¨Cliving in Emeston, the protective barrier was essential to survival. Only over the past few months, as Geoffrey trained her in the finer points of the killing arts and Tenebres had begun to unearth the full spectrum of her own emotions, had she begun to see her anger as the weakness if often was.

    Left to its own devices, her temper made her rash, drove her to lash out at others, and distracted her from the silent concentration needed to fight at her best. In the time since her anger had led to her storming out on Tenebres, Allana had worked hard to rein in the hair-trigger fury.

    All of that restraint and self-control couldn¡¯t have been farther from her mind as she paced down the familiar hallway of Geoffrey¡¯s manor. She did not pause, did not plan, did not take the moment needed to veil herself so that she could stand even a shadow of a chance against the man she had once thought she loved, the man she now hated more than anyone else in the world. Her steps slowed only slightly when she passed the door to Geoffrey¡¯s lounge, taking in the shattered bottles, broken furniture, and blood-stained carpets.

    Normally, Allana thought of her anger as a fire in her chest. In fact, she had more than once wished that she had the gift of fire rather than poison, thinking it a much more fitting match to her personality. Only now, she understood. Her anger burned inside of her not like a flame, but like a pool of acid, racing through her veins like the most virulent of toxins, lingering on her tongue with the sharp taste of death.

    She fed the pain of that ruined lounge into that acerbic puddle, making it ever more caustic, and she continued walking. She hadn¡¯t noticed when the conjured daggers appeared in her hands, each dripping with viscous poison. She didn¡¯t hear Tenebres¡¯s cautious whispers, urging her to slow down.

    Telik was, of course, waiting for them in Geoffrey¡¯s study. He was leaning back against the master assassin¡¯s desk, facing the door, idly trimming his nails with the razor tip of his dagger. At his feet, collapsed in such a way that Allana couldn¡¯t tell if he was dead or merely unconscious, was Geoffrey.

    Once, Allana had thought the crimelord to be the epitome of sophistication and wealth. It had taken Geoffrey to show her what true taste, true confidence, looked like, and now she saw Telik for what he really was¨Can imitator, a pale, tarnished mirror failing to emulate the merchants up in Highwalk, those whom he claimed superiority over.

    Telik¡¯s suit was of the finest materials and most stylish cut, but it was long untended, wrinkled and stained by its disdainful wearer. Similarly, his dark hair had once been finely tended to and trimmed to the most fashionably tastes, but it had grown without upkeep, leaving it lanky, greasy, and tangled, threaded through with gray¨Cattesting to how long it had taken Telik to reach Adept. The fit athleticism that had helped Telik through his early days as a smuggler had gone to seed.

    Telik had all the trappings of wealth, but he did not understand them. He did not see how his feeble attempts to cling to taste only made him look that much more pathetic. He was obsessed with the accumulation of wealth, an obsession that had made him the most powerful man in Lowrun, but he had clearly never once considered a purpose for all of that wealth.

    All the mantles in the world would not save him from the fate Allana had ready for him.

    ¡°Well, well, well, if it isn¡¯t my prodigal child. It¡¯s been a while, Alla.¡± Telik¡¯s voice was as oily as his appearance, the attempt at a refined accent only making the rough burrs of his natural tones more discomforting.

    Allana grimaced at the pet name, one she had left behind, and her fingers tightened on her daggers. ¡°Not long enough for me, bastard.¡±

    Telik made a disappointed tutting noise. ¡°I assume your presence here means my other two investments failed in their job. Vernen and Porgit always were a disappointing pair.¡±

    ¡°¡®Investments,¡¯¡± Allana repeated through gritted teeth. ¡°That¡¯s all we ever were to you, weren¡¯t we? Just investments, waiting to be paid to your hag.¡±

    Telik¡¯s eyes went flat, hard. He shot a glare down at Geoffrey¡¯s prone form, and drove a sharp kick into the assassin¡¯s side. ¡°Just how many of my secrets did you tell them, you rotten-gutted waste!?¡±

    Neither the physical or verbal abuse drew a response from the collapsed man, and Allana felt her vision shake at the edges a little, like shimmering air under a boiling sun.

    Geoffrey was dead.

    ¡°He told us plenty,¡± Tenebres said, edging through the doorway to Allana¡¯s left. ¡°About you, your hag partner, your gift from the Tyrant. Your plans for Allana.¡±

    Telik¡¯s lip lifted in a snarl, and he kicked Geoffrey¡¯s body again. ¡°Useless adventurer scum! Aggleta won¡¯t be happy to hear that she was found out.¡±

    The crimelord¡¯s dark gaze drifted to Allana and Tenebres, and a slimy grin split his face. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter anymore, does it? He¡¯s not gonna go jawing off to anyone else¡­ and once you two meet Aggleta, we won¡¯t have any concern about you saying anything we don¡¯t want heard. I¡¯ll get my Violet Edge back, and a brand-new mage on top of that. So very convenient.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    #

    Tenebres¡¯s hand twitched. He couldn¡¯t help himself. A blistering red bolt of magic shot from his fingers even as ribbons of pain carved their way up his arm. He might as well have not bothered with the Blood Magic for all the good it did. A fraction of a second before the missile would¡¯ve hit him, Telik was suddenly a half foot to one side. The spell flew past to slam into the wall of the office futilely.

    ¡°A decent mage, at that. Are you really Novice level?¡± Telik chuckled, the sound as dark and grimy as his appearance. ¡°It¡¯s too bad, really. This waste of space could¡¯ve at least gotten you to Apprentice so you¡¯d be more worth taking¡­ I suppose I can find some other uses for you though.¡± The crimelord¡¯s gaze slid along Tenebres¡¯s lithe body, making the boy shudder at his implication.

    Allana stayed silent in the face of the arrogant man¡¯s threats, but Tenebres could all but feel the rage building in the girl. He could see it in the way her lean muscles jumped and tensed, desperate for action. He could hear it in the creak of her fingers on the leather hilts of her knives. He could feel her pain reflected in his own heart.

    ¡°You must know it¡¯s useless to fight me,¡± Telik said. Tenebres was increasingly convinced the man was more the type to talk at someone than to them. He hadn¡¯t even seemed to take note of Allana¡¯s anger. ¡°If your failed mentor told you about my gift, you know you can¡¯t win, any more than he could.¡±

    As he spoke, the crimelord reached into a pocket, pulling out a handful of gold coins, a wealth like Tenebres had scarcely seen. Then, in a shimmer of tarnished light, the coins seemed to dissolve, vanishing until Telik¡¯s fist closed on empty. ¡°It¡¯s a simple rule of life: money is power. As long as I have money, I have power. And since I have all the money, I have all the power! No one can kill me¨Cnot this pathetic excuse for an assassin, not every rival who¡¯s tried to supplant me, and certainly not a sad little orphan who only amounted to anything because of me!¡±

    ¡°I used to think that.¡± Allana¡¯s voice was quiet, even, but it practically dripped with venom. Tenebres gave the girl a look and sidled back a long step, prepping the next spells in his head as she continued. In his chest, the gift of the void, the open maw branded over his heart, itched with the need to be used.

    ¡°I used to think you were right. I owed you my life, my skills, my gifts. Everything I was. I loved you. Thought of you as a father, even.¡± A sharp creak ran through the room, and Tenebres couldn¡¯t tell if it was Allana¡¯s daggers or the bones of her fingers. ¡°I knew you didn¡¯t love me, of course. But I thought that was normal. Why would you love an urchin? It didn¡¯t change my debt to you, my admiration, my adoration¡­¡±

    Allana lifted one dagger in a sharp gesture, pointing at Geoffrey, then at Tenebres. ¡°It wasn¡¯t until I got out from under your thumb that I realized who I really was. The value I really had. That all the obligations you raised me to see as owed to you were just chains, dead weight you used to bind me and keep me from realizing the potential you never wanted me to fulfill. I found people who made me feel loved, and respected, and meaningful. And then you killed one of them, and tell me that you plan to do worse to the other.¡±

    ¡°And I will!¡± Telik all but roared, his casual air dissipating like fog under the morning sun, revealing the true ugliness that lurked in the man¡¯s soul. ¡°I don¡¯t care what stupid little realization you think you had. You are mine, now and forever! After tonight, I¡¯ll make sure you know that¨Cand I¡¯ll start with your sunny little boyfriend there!¡±

    Telik¡¯s crooked, yellowed teeth showed through his wide smirk. ¡°I¡¯ll bind him first, you know. I¡¯ll bind him, and I¡¯ll make him tell you what he really thinks of you. I¡¯ll break down every stubborn, resistant, rebellious piece of you, and then I¡¯ll bind your will too and make you mine!¡±

    Allana shrieked, a noise of rage and pain and stubborn refusal made manifest, and she hurled herself across the office.

    #

    Allana¡¯s coordination, newly boosted by her fresh level up, guided her feet and hands in a perfect harmony she¡¯d never felt before. She flicked a veil over herself, giving her the same momentary concealment she had used to land Trick Attacks on Vern. The acidic rage inside of her turned into something brilliantly hopeful as she moved to strike down Telik, finally.

    It was over before she realized what was happening. The same enhanced coordination and resilience she had believed to be the final nails in Telik¡¯s coffin were the only reason she survived at all.

    The crimelord didn¡¯t ignore her attacks the way Vern had. Instead, he moved with inhuman speed and reflexes to catch her by the wrists before her daggers could come within a foot of him. She screamed as his impossibly powerful grip crushed her arms, her daggers dropping from senseless hands. Only then did the bands of fire caused by his grip cease, leaving Allana doubled over in pain and unable to defend herself before a casual backhand sent her flying across the room.

    Her improved coordination was all that allowed Allana to turn in the air before she hit one of Geoffrey¡¯s bookcases. Pain shot through her back at two distinct points, as hard wooden shelves bit into her ribs rather than her spine, and a pair of heavy books toppled from a high shelf to land on her head, further rendering her senseless.

    It took precious moments for Allana to make her eyes work, to focus her gaze, and even that was only possible due to her newly enhanced resilience, the boon already going to work to keep her battered body working.

    Across the room, she saw Telik, standing easily, holding Tenebres aloft in the air by the throat. He must¡¯ve fought, but his spells hadn¡¯t been enough to keep the crimelord away from him. The boy still struggled against the man¡¯s choking grip, kicking out in a desperate attempt to remain conscious.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky,¡± Telik growled. ¡°If Hellesa was still here, I could just kill you here and now. But even if you¡¯re no use to me dead, that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t whip the shit out of both of yoAAGH!¡±

    Tenebres must¡¯ve realized he had no chance against the crimelord¡¯s powerful grip, so he had attacked Telik in a completely different way, using the man¡¯s distraction to get his own finger in front of Telik¡¯s face. When the bright flash of his light spell illuminated Tenebres¡¯s fingers, it had surprised Telik enough for the boy to finally break free.

    The small, slender boy scurried away from the surprised crimelord, but the gesture was futile. They couldn¡¯t beat Telik. They couldn¡¯t even come close. The most Allana could do, she decided, was try to take him with her. And, just maybe, her new Toxic Manifestation might just give her the tool she needed¡­

    Toxic Manifestation¨CActive, Conjuration¨CCreate a variety of magical poisons, targeting any single attribute. Three potencies of poison can be created, with lesser, moderate, and major quintessence costs respectively.

    #

    The yawning hunger in Tenebres¡¯s chest continued to build, reaching levels he had only felt once before, as he had laid, trapped, on a stone table in the depths of the compound his parents had dragged him to.

    The gift of the void was desperate to be used. No mere imp would make a difference against a foe as powerful as Telik. He needed more. He needed¡­

    [Void Invocation] - Active, Summon - Open a gate and beckon a fiend to cross over. Nature and power of the fiend as well as ability cost varies based on the strength of the invocation. Sufficiently powerful fiends may be difficult to control. Moderate duration.

    Power still ran through his body from the lingering buff his Sacrificial Victim ability had given him.

    [Sacrificial Victim] - Active, Final - Make a physical attack that does a small amount of dark damage on a hit. If this hit kills the target, receive a moderate boost to all physical or mental attributes for a lesser duration. Minor focus cost.

    Tenebres¡¯s hand clutched his chest. He could feel the burning cold of the brand even through his shirt. It knew as well as he did that there was only one way out of this.

    ¡°Allana¡­¡± he yelled. ¡°Hide!¡±

    [Void Invocation] activated

    Strength, speed, coordination, stamina, and resilience attributes sacrificed

    WARNING: Fiends of lesser rank or above cannot be controlled due to current level

    Major fiend slaughter demon successfully invoked

 Chapter 69 - Caravan

    Oliver didn¡¯t know the bandits were attacking until he heard the soft hum of an arrow, half a moment before it thumped into one of Hugo¡¯s young employees, a round-faced boy around the same age as him. Oliver had never even learned his name.

    The boy didn¡¯t get the chance to cry out before his body fell backwards to land limply on the bed of the wagon he had been sitting in, the arrow jutting from either end of his neck. Then shouts filled the air and more than a dozen figuresran from the woodline, weapons bared.

    ¡°What?¡± Oliver looked around wildly. ¡°Bandits? Where did they come from!?¡± Despite having expected an attack, he still felt shocked by the sudden violence, and heard a hysterical edge in his own voice.

    By comparison, Cadence¡¯s voice was calm and even. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± they said, drawing that odd blade, the one that looked like it was made from jagged obsidian. ¡°We need to move. Now.¡±

    Rose suddenly gasped, and Oliver spun around, worried she had taken an arrow as well. But the animist¡¯s eyes were fixed on a distant point, somewhere in the direction of the front of the caravan. As if prompted by her gaze, a ghastly wail carried back to them from the frontmost wagon.

    ¡°It¡¯s another specter,¡± she said, cloak flaring as she jumped over Beryl and the driver¡¯s bench of their wagon to land next to Oliver and Cadence. ¡°I can sense it attacking up front.¡±

    Oliver cursed. ¡°They¡¯re working with the undead?¡±

    ¡°Apparently.¡± Rose turned to him. ¡°I have to go up there. I¡¯m the only one who can counter it.¡±

    Oliver blinked, trying to get his thoughts together. This was all happening too fast. The bandits had struck more suddenly, more violently, than any monster. They were moving with purpose, and he needed to to do the same, to act, to do something!

    ¡°I¡¯m going too,¡± he heard Beryl say.

    ¡°No¨C¡±

    ¡°Yes! If you¡¯re fighting the ghost, you won¡¯t be able to defend yourself against the bandits! Someone needs to protect you!¡±

    ¡°Fine, then go! Now!¡± Cadence shouted. The two girls did so, Beryl jumping out of the wagon and joining Rose, sprinting for the front of the caravan, while the celestial turned back to Oliver. ¡°Those big guys are fighting at the second wagon already, I¡¯ll go help them. Oliver, you-¡± Cadence must¡¯ve noticed the vacant look on his face, and they called his name more loudly. ¡°Oliver! Focus!¡±

    He blinked, trying to pull himself together¨Cthen he heard a cry of pain in the distance, before it suddenly cut off. Another member of Hugo¡¯s company was dead.

    Oliver¡¯s thoughts collected around that cry, and he suddenly shook himself and focused on Cadence. ¡°Right. Sorry. I just¡­¡±

    The celestial gave him a fleeting grin. ¡°It¡¯s fine. There¡¯s more coming from behind, can you cover the rear?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded decisively, feeling like himself again.

    ¡°Good luck then!¡± Without another word, Cadence turned and ran towards the second wagon and the trio of outlaws engaging Derrik, one of Hugo¡¯s burly laborers.

    Oliver drew his own sword and turned away, running for the back of the wagon, his blood racing as he ran through the late afternoon sunlight.

    Cadence must¡¯ve had some sort of awareness boon, as they were right about the outlaws approaching from behind¨Ceven if they hadn¡¯t bothered to mention the numbers. There were four of the scruffy outlaws less than a dozen yards away, rushing forward with weapons drawn, and another four farther back, observing the attack with wary eyes. Three of those held bows, all of which were promptly aimed at him.

    They must¡¯ve been a flanking force, Oliver realized, driving in to finish the job now that the caravan was occupied by the undead and the first wave of attackers. But the squire didn¡¯t have any more time to think about their organization. It was time to act.

    Time to be a silver knight.

    He quickly pulled his Mantle of Wind around him, hoping the swirling gale would be enough to divert any of the arrows, and then the four forward outlaws were on him. Bolstered by their superior numbers, they didn¡¯t try anything fancy, attempting to bury him in a barrage of attacks.

    Oliver was reminded of one of his earliest fights after he received his gifts, a trio of kobolds. He had only survived that fight with Adeline¡¯s help, and even then, it had been close. In the aftermath, she had scolded him for his lack of confidence. He hadn¡¯t possessed the boldness required to use his blessings efficiently.

    It had been three very long months since that fight, and Oliver was a very different person than he had been on that day.

    The first outlaw to reach him was a skinny, ragged young man, perhaps the same age as Oliver, who swung at him with a nicked shortsword. Oliver¡¯s off-hand flashed up, and he trusted his cloth-of-steel tunic, reinforced further by his gift, to block the attack. The bandit clearly didn¡¯t expect his sword to simply stop when it hit Oliver''s lightly armored arm, and he couldn¡¯t recover before Oliver¡¯s sword stabbed in and took him under the ribs.

    There was a flicker of motion to one side, and Oliver¡¯s reactions, long since drilled into him by his childhood tutors, had him take a quick hop back as a stout man¡¯s cudgel swung through the space he had been occupying and slammed into the ground. Based on the cloud of dust and the small crater made by the attack, it had some measure of potency behind it.

    As Oliver recalled, the gift of the bandit, granted by the Outlaw archetype, allowed a very basic, if costly, special attack. It did not, however, grant any defensive abilities, as the bandit in question must¡¯ve realized the instant before Oliver stepped back in and brought his sword down in a brutal chop at the man¡¯s back, leaving him bleeding and prone on the ground.

    Before Oliver could finish off either of his foes, the remaining bandits¨Ca scarred girl missing half a head of hair and a rangy, pinch-faced man¨Creached him. The girl fought with a rusty shortsword of her own, while the man favored a shortspear. The combination was effective, but the two clearly lacked any trained teamwork.

    Oliver calmly parried a pair of cuts from the girl, sidestepped a spear thrust, then flicked an arm up in time for an arrow to shatter against his cloth-of-steel tunic. He took a couple quick steps to one side to avoid another arrow, then lifted his free hand and released a blast of wind, kicking up enough dirt with the sudden gust to make both of the remaining close-quarters combatants flinch. As a handy side effect, the cloud of dust made it that much harder for the archers to get a bead on him.

    A momentary pause was all Oliver needed to lunge in and take the swordswoman in the throat, then whirl around to face the spearman. The pinch-faced man had apparently seen enough, as he threw down his spear and ran back towards his remaining allies.

    Oliver didn¡¯t bother to give chase, taking a moment to catch his breath while he waited for the cloud of dust to settle. Luckily, his Mantle of Wind had the handy side effect of keeping the airborne dirt away from him, giving him clean air to breath. Finally, as the cloud fell away, Oliver began walking forward, sword lifted and ready for whatever was waiting on the other side.

    #

    As Rose approached Hugo¡¯s wagon at the head of the caravan, she spent a pittance of quintessence to send a gust of wind flowing through her new cloak. Enchanted to respond to the elemental energy, the garment allowed Rose to leap fully over the wagon, Mantle of Wind slowing her fall on the farside of her arc as she took in the situation.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Five bandits had charged at the frontmost wagon behind the ghostly presence of the specter she had sensed. As in her previous encounter, the undead looked like a massive, inhuman skull, semitransparent, with two disembodied bone hands, a blot of rancid death magic to her life-attuned senses. Hugo had responded with a monstrous heavy crossbow she had never seen the merchant wield before, and had apparently managed to wound one bandit and kill another, but his weapon proved useless against the incorporeal undead. Hugo¡¯s second assistant lay dead already, withered by the life-draining touch of the ghost, and the master merchant himself looked to only still be alive thanks to his higher level.

    Rose released a Gust Blast as she approached the ground, kicking up enough dust to blind the bandits for a few moments, then followed it up with a second gale, this one infused with life-aspected magic.

    [Healing Wind] - Animist, Wind - Active, Healing - Create a gust of wind empowered with life magic. Range and shape is the same as Gust Blast. Grants a minor healing effect to all targets within the area, regardless of allegiance. Lesser mana cost.

    Hugo sagged in relief as the healing magic helped him recover from the enervation of the specter¡¯s touch, while the ghostly undead itself was forced back, the life-aspected magic as harmful to it as its death magic was to humans.

    Rose dismissed her Mantle of Wind just a couple feet above the ground, falling the remaining distance. Her birch branch staff twirled in her hands as she placed herself between the undead and the caravan.

    Behind the undead, the dust kicked up by her entry had begun to settle, exposing her to the four remaining bandits in the treeline¨Cbut before they could make good on their advantage, a pair of fist-sized rocks came humming at them, announcing Beryl¡¯s own arrival to the struggle.

    #

    Oliver emerged from his cover just in time to see the cowardly spearman collapse to the road, still choking from the pair of arrows lodged in his throat. One of the archers was nowhere to be seen, but that still left two bowmen standing to either side of a tall, slender woman, whose confident stance marked her as the leader of the bandit troop. Apparently, the bandits had little approval for cowardice.

    Oliver didn¡¯t even slow his stride, swinging his sword several times as he walked, each motion sending a Wind Slash at his remaining foes. As he had hoped, the simple ranged attacks disabled the enemy archers, knocking one to his knees and breaking the other¡¯s bow. Unfortunately, the bandit leader seemed unimpressed by them. Her own sword flashed twice and ably parried each projectile he sent at her.

    Now that made Oliver¡¯s steps falter. The only person he had ever seen parry his Wind Slashes was Adeline. If he was facing off against an Adept, there was every chance he was going to die in the next few moments. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t really much he could do about that at this point.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t there one more of you?¡± he called to her, trying to seem calm and casual. ¡°Or did he get scared enough that you had to kill him, too?¡±

    The taunt didn¡¯t get the reaction he was hoping for. Instead, she smirked and began to walk towards him. She kept her sword low to the ground, but the way she held it, at a precise angle away from her body, told him that it was a ready stance, if one he was unfamiliar with. Whoever this woman was, she had some measure of formal training. She was different from the crude, cowardly bandits she ran with.

    ¡°No,¡± the woman called back, her smoky voice amused, ¡°he went to kill the rest of your friends.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s blood went cold at the woman¡¯s blunt tone. She hadn¡¯t said the words like a threat, but as a simple fact, as if she had been discussing the weather.

    ¡°I doubt he¡¯ll find it as easy as that,¡± Oliver shot back.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just need to go through you and help him, won¡¯t I?¡± The woman came to a stop just ten feet from Oliver, holding the same menacing stance.

    Oliver looked her over quickly. This close, she was younger than Oliver had expected, maybe only a couple years older than him. Her height and confidence had just made her seem older than she was. While as dirty and ragged as the rest of the bandits, there was something different about her, a poise the others lacked. Her skin was a deep, golden tan that almost precisely matched the dark blonde of her close-cropped hair. That coloring was rare these days¨Conly gold-bloods, pure-blooded Arsiletians, had that combination of hair and skin tone.

    Her sword spoke volumes as well. Far cry from the low quality weapons the other bandits held, it was a gleaming, well-maintained, gracefully curved blade. It was a saber, a type of weapon preferred by fencers. Oliver had spent most of his youth practicing with and against very similar weapons. Another sign indicting the girl as some sort of fallen noble.

    ¡°I¡¯d ask what brought someone like you to this low station, but I suspect it would be a waste of time,¡± Oliver said.

    Those words provoked more reaction from her than anything else he had said or done, far more than his feeble taunts or the deaths of her band. Her golden face twisted with anger, and she spat back, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯d know plenty about wasted time, noble pup.¡±

    How did everyone keep figuring out he was a noble? Was it really that obvious?

    ¡°I prefer Oliver,¡± he replied, still trying for an infuriating calmness.

    ¡°And I¡¯d prefer you dead, pup.¡± Without warning, the woman darted forward, and nearly killed Oliver in a single strike. It was fast, efficient, and perfectly aimed, a textbook perfect attack.

    The only reason Oliver survived it at all was that he had read the same textbook.

    His own sword flashed up with a speed born of muscle memory, ingrained in his arms over the course of years, and his body dipped even as he caught the blade and lifted it overhead. Still moving automatically, he reversed his sword into a lightning quick riposte, but the girl was already moving, and his counter missed by mere inches.

    In barely a breath, the two had engaged and split apart, now occupying the positions the other had started in.

    The Arsiletian woman¡¯s anger had vanished behind an expression of pure shock. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°That was a clever lunge,¡± Oliver told her, ¡°but you didn¡¯t use a gift at all. I drilled against the same technique.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re better than I thought, pup.¡±

    Oliver rolled his eyes. ¡°I really prefer Oliver.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t care.¡± The woman¡¯s mouth twitched in an expression that had very nearly been a smile. ¡°But you can call me Aton.¡±

    ¡°Aton?¡± Oliver asked, surprised at the lunar name.

    The woman didn¡¯t answer, instead lifting her sword into that same low stance again.

    Oliver did the same, raising his longsword straight ahead until it was parallel to the ground. Then they moved again.

    #

    Cadence found herself possessed of the same serene, crystalline rage she had first felt in Kellister, when she had seen the damage the gnolls had inflicted on a village for no greater reason than a thirst for violence. She had feared that her first time fighting other humans¨Crather than monsters or outsiders¨Cin true, lethal combat would leave her frozen, but the celestial had quickly come to the conclusion that their actions had declared the bandits to be just as monstrous as the gnolls she had cut down.

    If anything, she found their performance disappointing compared to those rangy outsiders. Most of them only had the gift of the bandit, another one she was familiar with from her studies with Storyteller, even if she hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to reflect it yet. Granted by the Outlaw archetype, it offered a suite of basic benefits for those who sought to abuse and bully others. Speed and strength boons, a simple special attack, and Menacing Glare, a mental ability capable of cowing their foes. Overall, they should¡¯ve been significantly more dangerous than the gnolls, but they proved lacking in both the skill and ferocity of the bestial outsiders.

    A Soul Surge to her will was enough to allow Cadence to ignore their mental attacks, and Cadence had only needed to kill a few of the dozen or so that had charged the middle wagon before the rest broke. She suspected that any real battle-gifted would¡¯ve fared similarly well against the rabble.

    Unfortunately, none of Hugo¡¯s employees counted as battle-gifted. One laborer, Paul, lay dead, killed in the opening moments of the fight as the bulk of the bandits surged at the center of the caravan. Derrik was covered in wounds of varying severity, while Harriet sat on the driver¡¯s bench, trying not to move. Thankfully, the arrow in her gut hadn¡¯t kept the teamster from provoking one of her draft goats into breaking free of its harness and charging the treeline, scattering the remaining bandit archers.

    Cadence¡¯s skills, honed to a razor¡¯s edge by Ryme and Storyteller, had allowed her to avoid any notable injuries of her own, and she took a quick swig from the flask Storyteller had left her to keep up her energy levels. Oliver¡¯s Reinforced Defense had proven invaluable, buying her critical protection from the few arrows lucky enough to reach her, but she could already anticipate the incoming focus headache.

    That was a concern for later. Survival was all that mattered at the moment.

    A quick survey revealed that the few remaining bandits from the initial charge were fully occupied by the overpowering strength of the enraged draft goat. That left the attack at the front, that Rose and Beryl had gone to handle, and the flankers coming from behind. Oli was skilled, but by himself¡­

    Cadence nodded decisively to herself. ¡°Can you handle it from here?¡± she asked Derrik.

    The big man was still leaking from numerous holes and cuts, but he grunted gamely and lifted a heavy, workman¡¯s hammer up to his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ve got it. Go.¡±

 Chapter 70 - Assassins

    Telik¡¯s foot came down, crushing the demon¡¯s head underneath. With a final unearthly shriek, the crimson and sable fiend dispersed into a fluttering black fog, which itself quickly faded, leaving behind only the panting crimelord.

    Gone was Telik¡¯s casual confidence. His suit was torn and shredded, revealing oozing wounds and savage burns. One such burn had scarred his face and taken half of his lank hair. His shoulders sagged as he tried to collect himself.

    [Gift of the Void] experienced gained

    Experience: 57%

    Tenebres watched with wide eyes, stunned. The slaughter demon had been nine-feet of obsidian death, built like an oversized, heat-warped skeleton wrapped in muscles of burning tar. It was the same kind of fiend Tenebres had summoned moments after he received his gift of the void, an avatar of bloody-minded death that had cut through Kellen, his enforcers, and everyone else in that accursed underground cult.

    Telik had defeated it by himself. At no small cost, admittedly, but he had done it, and Tenebres wasn¡¯t at all sure what to do next. He had paid close enough attention to know that Allana hadn¡¯t been sitting on her thumbs. He had seen the small cuts open on Telik¡¯s skin, when the crimelord had been too distracted to notice the extra damage. But he had no idea where she was now, leaving him facing the crimelord apparently alone.

    Telik spat to one side, a wad of blood landing on Geoffrey¡¯s corpse. The late assassin¡¯s office had been wrecked by the fight between the major fiend and the crimelord, and after all of that, there was no doubt the assassin was well and truly dead.

    ¡°What¡­ in the Rogue¡¯s name¡­ was that?¡± Telik¡¯s every word came with a deep, gasping breath, his abilities unable to counter the exhaustion of such a fight.

    ¡°A demon.¡± Tenebres¡¯s voice sounded high and flat in his own ears. He was terrified. He had never considered that anyone, even the much-maligned crimelord, could defeat the slaughter demon. The cost for summoning it, even buffed as he had been from Sacrificial Victim, left the boy all but immoble, his every physical attribute drained to near empty.

    ¡°Oh a demon, is it?¡± Telik¡¯s gruff laugh had an edge of madness to it. ¡°Fine then, don¡¯t tell me. Once I have you bound, I¡¯ll have that same power under my control¡­ then even the goldshites won¡¯t be able to loom over me! I¡¯ll rule this thrice-damned city!¡±

    ¡°No you won¡¯t.¡±

    Another slash opened on Telik¡¯s already marred chest, the wound dripping with thick green-black poison even as Allana shimmered into being a few feet in front of him.

    Telik laughed at the girl. ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you? I spent a small fortune buffing my resilience for tonight, so that I could kill Geoffrey. If he or that Tyrant-damned demon couldn¡¯t do me in, you think your pathetic little poison can do it?¡±

    Allana smiled¨Cand Telik suddenly sagged, falling to one knee, clutching his chest.

    #

    Elation lit the acid pool of Allana¡¯s rage into incandescent flames. He had fallen for it.

    ¡°What? What did you¡­ What did you do to me!?¡±

    Telik¡¯s rage was a pale shadow of itself, a good match to his rapidly whitening face.

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d boost your resilience,¡± Allana told him, the words as sour as they were sweet as they rolled from her tongue. ¡°You¡¯re a cockroach, Telik. First and foremost, I knew I could count on you to buff your resilience, to make sure nothing could kill you. So I didn¡¯t poison your resilience.¡±

    ¡°Impossible,¡± Telik growled. His legs shook as he forced himself back to two feet, glaring blunt daggers at her.

    ¡°It would¡¯ve been, not so long ago,¡± Allana agreed, watching her obvious delight drive yet another dagger into Telik¡¯s mind. ¡°You had no way of knowing I hit Initiate with my gift of poison. I only just leveled up, after all. After I killed Vernen.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ you what?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes.¡± A wide smile stretched Allana¡¯s lips. Despite everything that had happened that night, she couldn¡¯t help herself. Everything else was forgotten in the fog of bliss at the crimelord finally getting his fitting reward. ¡°And it turns out, at Initiate level, my gift of poison can make a whole bunch of different poisons. I can target any attribute I want now, not just resilience. And I got to thinking¡­ see, a few weeks ago, Tenebres and I went to kill this monster. A darkmaw, not that it matters. And I had a scare afterwards. Tenebres got a big, big dose of stamina poison. It left him exhausted, and I thought it might kill him.

    ¡°See, you can¡¯t just heal away a stamina poison. Resilience doesn¡¯t matter. We had to keep feeding Tenebres stamina potions until the poison ran its course¨Cotherwise, if his stamina got too low, his body wouldn¡¯t have the energy to keep itself alive. His heart itself wouldn¡¯t be able to keep beating.¡±

    Telik¡¯s bloodshot eyes went wide, and he looked down at the hand still clutching his own heart. Sweat beaded on his brow. The smell of his fear was the sweetest perfume Allana had ever known.

    ¡°Exactly. See, I figured, knowing you, you had never really pushed yourself the way the slaughter demon forced you to. You had no frame of reference for how exhausting it can be to fight at your limits, especially given your habit of buffing yourself. So I figured you wouldn¡¯t notice the stamina poison doing its job, even as you kept burning stamina to use your special attacks, spending like your purse had no bottom.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you don¡¯t get, you little bitch! As long as I have my gold¡­¡± Telik¡¯s face lit up as his hand flashed down to his belt¨Cand found nothing but air.

    Allana couldn¡¯t help the laugh that bubbled up out of her throat as she lifted a hand¨Cand bounced Telik¡¯s money pouch casually in her open palm. ¡°As long as you have your gold, you have power. Is that what you were going to say? Yet again? But you spent so much during that fight¡­ Do you even have any left?¡± More laughter. She couldn¡¯t stop it now. ¡°It was my first lesson, remember? I was nine. You taught me to cut purse strings¨Cthen cuffed me and took the money for yourself once you saw gold in the purse.¡±

    Telik froze in place, stricken. She had done it, Allana realized. Patience, preparation, perception, and performance. Just like Geoffrey had trained her.

    Telik had built her to be his weapon, and the same skills and gifts he had given her had been the tools that had brought him down. But it had been Geoffrey¡¯s careful, subtle lessons that had truly undone the crimelord. In the end, he really had killed Telik, even if it had cost him his life.

    Telik¡¯s eyes flashed to the door, and Allana knew what he was thinking. Even without the gift of affluence, Telik had a speed boost from the gift of the thief. He could make a run for it. If he could find a potion in time, he could bolster his stamina, make it to a healer, get his revenge later. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Telik was a cockroach. A survivor. His own life was more important than anything else.

    Allana had been like him, not so long ago. The Allana of the previous winter wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to run for it when Tenebres had grabbed Telik¡¯s attention. But she had found something more than mere survival. Through the chandler, the darkmaw, the fishmonger, Tenebres had shown her that some things were worth dying for, even as Geoffrey showed her that other things were worth killing for.

    She couldn¡¯t let him flee.

    ¡°Geoffrey, now!¡±

    #

    Tenebres was as surprised as Telik when Allana signaled the assassin.

    Telik whirled around, turning away from Allana, lifting his dagger in a vague defense, only to see that Geoffrey¡¯s broken body hadn¡¯t moved an inch.

    The crimelord still looked confused when Allana reached around from behind and cut his throat from ear to ear.

    It turned out even Telik¡¯s resilience had limits.

    A gout of blood shot from the man¡¯s neck. His arms twitched feebly with small, aborted motions, as if he was trying to use his little remaining strength to strike back at Allana. But the girl stayed in his shadow, holding him in place by the hair, until the strength left Telik¡¯s body and he collapsed to the floor, blood still draining from the wound in his throat like a broken wineskin.

    Silence. Too much silence. It felt like Tenebres had to force himself to break it.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked Allana. His voice seemed too loud in the quiet left behind by Telik¡¯s death.

    Allana stood in place, her eyes vague and unfocused, staring into the middle distance. Her fingers opened, seemingly without her noticing, and her dagger fell from her grip, vanishing before it hit the floor.

    ¡°Allana?¡±

    The girl still didn¡¯t respond. Her eyes finally moved, drifting down to Telik¡¯s body. Her mouth twitched with half-formed feelings, a frown murdered as it was born, a smile killed and dragged from her lips, leaving her face blank and confused.

    Slowly, cautiously, Tenebres approached the girl. His body still felt weak, every step clumsy and awkward from his drained attributes. He kept moving anyway. ¡°Allana? Are you okay?¡±

    Her eyes traveled from Telik¡¯s corpse to Geoffrey¡¯s, still laying facedown, undisturbed and unmoved by the vicious fight that had gone on around it. Composed and unflappable even in death.

    A shudder ran through Allana as Tenebres wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

    The dam broke, and they both fell to their knees, tears of rage and joy and fear and relief and loss shared between them both.

    Neither spoke. Neither needed to speak.

    #

    ¡°Even if I had arrived with you, there was little I could¡¯ve done.¡± Alleghy shook his head solemnly, his already long features drooped further into a mask of grief. The master healer looked up from Geoffreys body, from the pulp that had been made of his chest. ¡°Telik must¡¯ve feared Geoffrey was as dedicated to survival as he himself was. He was disgustingly thorough.¡±

    ¡°I understand. I appreciate you coming anyway.¡± Tenebres said solemnly and looked to Allana, still standing next to him. The girl looked as blank and lost as she had since she had killed Telik. She had kept right next to Tenebres since, refusing to leave arm¡¯s reach of him even when they had gone to fetch Alleghy. But still, she had said nothing since she parted Telik¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alleghy said. The aged wraith heaved himself to his feet, brushing off the hem of his gray apron. ¡°Geoffrey was an old friend. Are you two okay?¡±

    Tenebres noted the way the healer¡¯s gaze lingered on Allana specifically. ¡°Physically, yes. A potion got me up and running again. Mentally¡­¡±

    Alleghy nodded a silent understanding. ¡°Well¡­ the least I can do is get them out of here.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I have a crypt I can get Geoffrey to tonight. Somewhere that will safeguard him against the deprivations of scavengers, enemies, and necromancers alike.¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s eyes narrowed at the mention of necromancers. ¡°Alleghy¡­ just how much did you know about what we and Geoffrey were doing?¡±

    A tidy little smile danced across the healer¡¯s long features. ¡°More than you might think. No matter. He will be safe. And I can take you to see his resting place whenever you like.¡±

    Tenebres looked at Allana. The girl¡¯s eyes were still unfocused, but she gave a small, trembling nod.

    ¡°Sounds like a plan then. What about Telik?¡±

    All three of them looked to the corner where Alleghy had brusquely pushed the crimelord¡¯s corpse. The healer¡¯s face wrinkled in distaste.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave him in one of the well squares. I imagine word will spread through most of the city before the sun rises.¡±

    ¡°I hope the rats find him first.¡±

    Tenebres turned to look at Allana, surprise obvious on his face. Those were the first words she had spoken in hours, and they lacked the acid he had expected. More than anything, she just sounded tired.

    ¡°Works for me,¡± Tenebres told Alleghy. ¡°We can¡¯t be far from dawn at this point in any case, right?¡±

    ¡°No more than a couple hours,¡± the healer agreed. ¡°I should be about it.¡±

    Tenebres took a step forward, towards the bodies, but Alleghy lifted a long-fingered hand.

    ¡°No need. I will take care of them.¡± He gave Allana a pointed look. ¡°I know Geoffrey kept a couple spare bedrooms. Go. Rest. I will handle things from here.¡±

    Tenebres nodded his gratitude at Alleghy and took Allana¡¯s hand. Her fingers were limp, her palm clammy. ¡°C¡¯mon Allana. He¡¯s right. Let¡¯s get some rest.¡±

    #

    The room was blessedly dark, without even a pinprick of light coming through the closed door and pulled drapes. The sounds of Alleghy¡¯s movements downstairs had died away after a few minutes, and Allana found her traitorous body relaxing, the cessation of stimulation intoxicating to her overwhelmed, beleaguered mind.

    A message tried to push its way into view, demanding attention as it had been since she had killed Telik. And as she had since then, she pushed it away, not ready for what she knew it would say. She didn¡¯t need to read it. Just as Telik had always planned, she had no doubt earned the gift of the assassin. That she had earned it from Telik¡¯s murder was but a small comfort.

    What was the point? She didn¡¯t want to be an assassin anymore. She didn¡¯t want to kill to survive. She didn¡¯t want to end up like Geoffrey, dead at the hands of an evil man.

    But if she wasn¡¯t an assassin, what was she? What did she have left? Whether she knew it or not, her entire life had led her to this point, a road pointing unerringly to her destiny as a killer.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    Tenebres stirred next to her, curling up more tightly against her side. His head, rested on her shoulder, turned so that he could leave a small, affectionate kiss along the taut skin of her neck. ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who I am, Seo. I don¡¯t know who I want to be.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been there.¡± Another kiss, gentle and loving, and another tracing down towards her collarbone. A small gesture, almost casual, but a meaningful one all the same. There was no sexual urgency in the kisses, merely reassurance and affection.

    ¡°I know who I don¡¯t want to be though.¡±

    ¡°Telik?¡± Tenebres guessed.

    ¡°Or Geoffrey.¡±

    A moment of silence, then Tenebres moved again, sliding an arm under Allana¡¯s neck, hugging her without breaking their closeness. ¡°That¡¯s a good place to start then.¡±

    ¡°What do I do now?¡±

    ¡°Now? Sleep. Everything else can wait until morning.¡±

    Allana wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that there was no way her whirling brain could get any sleep, no matter how comfortable it was to have him pressed against her.

    Somewhere between having the thought and opening her mouth, she fell asleep.

 Chapter 71 - Caravan

    Oliver came to the conclusion that this fight was going poorly for him.

    Aton, whoever she was, was remarkably skilled, and Oliver was fully convinced now that she was some sort of exiled noble, just as well trained¨Cor even more so¨Cthan he was. Not only that, she had the gift of the fencer, which was far better suited for single combat. Her gift of the bandit only further tipped the scales¨Cshe had enough low cost special attacks to render Reinforced Defense irrelevant, while Oliver had to carefully hold Reckless Strike in reserve for when he was absolutely certain that it would hit. So far, Gust Blast had been the only thing that had allowed him to survive even this long, buying him critical moments to keep Aton from seizing the momentum of the fight.

    The bandit woman disengaged with a skillful flourish, and both of them took a moment to catch their breath.

    At the very least, Oliver reflected, she¡¯s as tired as I am.

    ¡°You¡¯re better than I thought, pup.¡±

    Oliver¡¯s lip twitched in a shadow of a snarl. ¡°I thought I told you to stop calling me that.¡±

    Aton mimed a flapping jaw with her free hand. ¡°Yap yap yap.¡± She twirled that long, gracefully curved saber in a neat circle and set herself back into a ready position. ¡°Sorry pup. But it¡¯s high time I wrapped this up. I don¡¯t know if you noticed, but the rest of the clan here doesn¡¯t have much backbone without me to support them.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Oli tried for a smirk. ¡°Then once I kill you, the rest of them will break too.¡±

    ¡°Yap yap.¡±

    The woman lunged forward, and Oliver was put entirely on the defensive as one special attack after another rained down on him, forcing a slow retreat even as their swords beat out a staccato rhythm.

    Finally, Oli decided he needed to make an opening of his own. His thumb flicked to the fully charged force rune at the base of his runeblade, the same trick he had used against Allid months before.

    Somehow, the bandit leader saw it coming. Her freehand batted out, the chain mesh gauntlet keeping the edge from ripping through her flesh as she slapped his blade aside as if it were no more bothersome than a fly. Dirt and leaves flew as the force blast went wide and slammed into the treeline next to the road.

    Then, still moving in one fluid motion, Aton¡¯s own sword came around, glowing a malevolent purple. Oli managed only the sloppiest of blocks, barely keeping the saber from carving through his chest, but the purple glow continued on the same arc as the foiled attack. The phantom strike smacked him across the face¨Cand the world suddenly tilted on its side.

    Oliver tried to shake away the sudden bout of dizziness, but the abrupt vertigo was crippling. By the time it passed, Oliver was on his knees, and Aton was standing over him, her sword poised to stab down into his neck.

    #

    Rose blew out a breath as she watched the specter fade into tatters. Just like last time, the incorporeal undead had been completely unable to resist the effect of her magic, with even her weakest healing spells tearing ragged holes in it. It had tried to flee, but Rose had caught it in a gale of Healing Wind before it could make good on its escape.

    In the meantime, Beryl had bulled her way through the bandits that had attacked in the specter¡¯s wake. Their own blessings had been completely insufficient against the muscular young woman, and after she had laid out two of them with strikes of her earthen hammer, the rest retreated to a respectable distance¨Conly to find that they hadn¡¯t outdistanced her earthen projectiles.

    Still, they had left their mark. A special attack had cut through Beryl¡¯s new armored tunic, leaving a deep gash in her side, and she had accumulated a few more cosmetic cuts on her arms and legs that, given enough time, could prove life-threatening.

    ¡°Well,¡± the large girl grunted, her voice rough with pain, ¡°that wasn¡¯t as bad as I expected.¡±

    Rose rolled her eyes. ¡°Come here. Let me give you a bit more healing, then we¡¯ll go check on the others.¡±

    Beryl had only just turned towards her when Hugo¡¯s voice, cracking with fear, called from behind, ¡°Look out!¡±

    Both wardens jumped in separate directions as the merchant¡¯s call reached them, but it did little good. A short, heavy arrow slammed into Beryl¡¯s shoulder, as if her enchanted tunic wasn¡¯t even there, then another into her hip. Rose¡¯s Mantle managed to deflect a third that went for her heart, turning the lethal attack aside, where it left a bloody furrow across her bicep. Hugo wasn¡¯t so lucky, and the fourth arrow took the plump merchant between the eyes. He toppled backwards into his wagon without a sound.

    Rose looked around wildly, trying to find the archer in the woodline, until Beryl, through gritted teeth, screamed, ¡°Rose! Above you!¡±

    The red-headed young woman didn¡¯t hesitate, lifting her staff to send a gust blast straight up in the air. Once again, her reflexes saved her life, the swirling winds fouling another shot meant to kill her, and Rose got her first good look at the assailant.

    He was in mid-air about twenty feet up, the setting sun behind him keeping her from making out any specific features, although the shape of two wings, flapping slowly to hold him aloft, proved distinctive enough.

    The sun glinted off another arrow, and Rose slammed another Gust Blast into the air at the man.

    #

    There was, perhaps, half a second between Oliver realizing that the bandit leader was about to kill him and her sword flicking up in a lightning fast reaction, cutting an arrow out of midair.

    Aton seemed as surprised as Oli¨Cand then Cadence was there, their weird black-glass blade flashing in the orange light of the setting sun as they leapt at the exiled noble. That was bad. Oliver had fought both of them, and he knew from experience that there was no way the celestial could beat Aton. The bandit swordswoman was simply too good, and a higher level besides.

    Cadence, to all appearances, simply didn¡¯t care what Oli thought. Despite their shorter blade and cruder skill, they rained cuts down on Aton faster than Oli had ever seen, forcing her to the defensive, keeping her from a potentially lethal counter. That kind of speed was inhuman¨Cit could only be thanks to a boon of some kind, but Oliver had never seen any other indication of that sort of speed from the wandering girl before.

    As if realizing her suddenly disadvantageous position, Aton lashed out with the same special attack she had used to take Oliver down, and he tried to get his limbs working, to get to his feet before that malefic purple light could leave Cadence exposed the same way it had him. He only made it to his knees before the attack hit Cadence¨Cbut they didn¡¯t even falter.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    That got a look of surprise from Aton, and she finally made a mistake, letting Cadence¡¯s sword leave a long line of blood through her chainmail shirt. A superficial wound, but far more than the odd weapon should¡¯ve been able to do. Another special attack?

    Cadence grinned as the bandit leader disengaged. ¡°That was a nasty trick. Let¡¯s see how you like it.¡±

    There was another flash of purple light, dimmer this time, and from Cadence¡¯s eyes rather than from either of their weapons. Aton faltered and took a half-step backwards, shock clear in her eyes¨Cand then Cadence lashed out with a familiar combination. A low kick, a fast move forward, a stomp to Aton¡¯s hand that sent her sword flying, and then the bandit leader was the one with a sword to her throat.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ impossible.¡± Aton¡¯s voice quivered with shock and, perhaps, a trace of fear.

    Oliver couldn¡¯t bring himself to disagree with her.

    #

    ¡°Oli!¡± Cadence called behind her. ¡°Can you get up?¡±

    She felt her Soul Surge wearing off, and knew she had perhaps a minute before her will boon fled. Speed would go shortly thereafter.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m up.¡±

    ¡°Good. Please get over here before I pass out.¡±

    Hurrying steps, then Oliver was there, his own sword replacing Cadence¡¯s at the bandit woman¡¯s throat.

    Cadence immediately staggered away. She patted through her belt pouches wildly before she found Storyteller¡¯s replenishing flask. She took three quick swallows, grimacing at the earthy bite of the energy potion as it burned down her throat.

    Before she saw the bandit about to kill Oliver, Cadence had never thought to use Soul Surge on multiple attributes concurrently. But it worked, giving her the jump in speed to close the distance and defeat the swordswoman before she could kill Oli, while retaining the will boost to ignore the bandit woman¡¯s special attacks as easily as she had the Menacing Glares¨Cthe same ability Cadence had copied and used to defeat her.

    [Gift of the Bandit]

    [Menacing Glare] - Active, Psychic - Disrupt the target''s thoughts and disorient them momentarily. Requires direct eye contact to work. Lesser focus cost.

    Unfortunately, Cadence knew what was coming now. When both of her Surges wore off, she¡¯d take their combined stamina and focus costs at the same time. She¡¯d be lucky to stay conscious.

    Frowning, Cadence shook the replenishing flask. Based on the splashing inside, she estimated she could manage maybe one more good swallow without emptying it, but even then, it would need most of a week to refill itself. She¡¯d need to save it for after the fight¨Cprovided it ended soon.

    As if provoked by her line of thinking, a shriek cut through the air from the front of the caravan.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got her,¡± Oli told her, voice tight, ¡°Go!¡±

    #

    ¡°Well, well, well¡­¡± the man¡¯s voice was a smooth baritone broken by jagged gravel, and it carried down to Rose clearly despite the altitude of his flight. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think this isn¡¯t going to work.¡±

    Arrows littered the dirt around Rose, and more lay up the road, where the redhead¡¯s wind magic had deflected the rain of projectiles from the wounded Beryl.

    Rose didn¡¯t waste time replying, already channeling spell after healing spell at her wounded friend without taking her eyes off the flying bandit leader. Her wind powers had proven an effective foil to the bandit¡¯s aerial archery, but she had little that could harm the man, and every moment she spent dealing with him was precious to her friend. The arrows hadn¡¯t quite killed her, but even Beryl¡¯s resilience was flagging in the face of the dangerous strikes.

    The man¡¯s voice was self-satisfied as he realized that truth as well. ¡°But you can¡¯t actually hurt me, can you? You¡¯re a good little healer, but that¡¯s all.¡±

    Rose twirled her birch staff in a tight figure-eight as a final flap of his fifteen-foot wingspan sent the man to the ground. He landed heavily on all fours, and Rose got her first clear look at him. He was tall and well-built, in his mid-twenties, with the light tan and muddled brown hair common to the heartlands. His face, however, was twisted, as much animal as man.

    The man stood and slid his shortbow back into the quiver riding at his side. ¡°This attack was a mistake,¡± he mused out loud. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect the fat little merchant to have such able helpers. Not that it did him much good.¡±

    Rose gritted her teeth, trying not to look at Hugo¡¯s all-too-still body behind her. ¡°Then perhaps you should cut your losses and flee while you can.¡±

    The man shrugged, the gesture making his hawk-like wings flutter a little. ¡°Soon. If I can deny the wardens another of their little trainees, I think it¡¯ll be worth it.¡±

    Rose¡¯s eyes went wide, first with the implications of his words, then with shock, as fur sprouted from his arms. His very bones seemed to shift in place, his digits curling until they had been replaced by two massive feline paws, ending in razor sharp claws.

    ¡°Two totem gifts¡­ that¡¯s impossible.¡±

    ¡°You need to rethink that word,¡± the bandit said, self-satisfied. His wings fanned out behind him as he prepared to leap¨Cand then an arrow struck him in the crest of his right wing.

    The man reared back, letting out a roar of pain too bestial to have come from a human mouth, then another thudded into his left arm. The orange sunlight glinted off striking amber eyes that focused behind Rose.

    Cadence paced out, her steps smooth and slow, the odd stride needed to keep her bead on the bandit leader with the arrow she still had pulled back.

    ¡°Too slow!¡± Cadence shouted at him. ¡°Aton¡¯s down, your ghost is gone, and your minions are scattered. Do you really think you can still win?¡±

    Another roar was answered by a third arrow, but this time, the monstrous bandit surged into the air before the shot could reach him. He roared again, taking off and flying out over the woods in the same direction his men had run.

    Cadence watched him go, her face troubled¨Cthen she sagged to her knees, gasping.

    Rose took a step towards the celestial, her most powerful healing spell already coming to mind, but Cadence waved her away.

    ¡°Dun worry, ¡®m fine¡­¡± she insisted, her voice slightly slurred. ¡°Jus¡¯ tired. Take care of Beryl.¡±

    ¡°Fuck! Beryl!¡± Rose turned and ran for her downed friend. Her hands were glowing before she even reached the tall girl, feeling for any spark of life left in her badly wounded friend. Her cloth-of-steel tunic had been rent to tatters, cut through by one of the bandits earlier and punctured by arrows from the flying archer, yet it had still likely saved her life. Without its protection, those attacks certainly would¡¯ve killed her long before Rose could send her magic questing into her friend''s soul. ¡°C¡¯mon¡­ c¡¯mon¡­ YES!¡±

    Slowly, almost begrudgingly, a couple of Beryl¡¯s smaller wounds began to close, Rose¡¯s spell successfully finding the fledgling spark of life left inside of her and carefully fanning it, trying to strengthen it without extinguishing it all together.

    Behind her, Rose heard Cadence stagger to her feet, still panting. ¡°That was¡­ bad.¡±

    ¡°Oli?¡± Rose asked, not taking her hands or attention from Beryl.

    ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± Cadence said. ¡°We took another leader hostage.¡±

    Rose shuddered, tears spilling helplessly from her eyes. ¡°Hugo¡¯s down, one of his assistants too.¡±

    ¡°Last I saw, Derrik and Harriet are alive,¡± Cadence told her. ¡°But they¡¯re in rough shape. I don¡¯t think anyone else made it.¡±

    Rose felt her hands tighten into futile fists, her spell¡¯s light flickering. Too many people needed her help. Her mana was all but exhausted, and she knew what she had left wasn¡¯t going to be enough to save even Beryl, much less the others.

    ¡°Potions,¡± Rose said, her voice breaking as she tried to stay strong. ¡°We¡¯ve got some in our wagon, and I know Hugo had more.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Rose wondered how Cadence could possibly be so controlled, her voice so even. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back. Do what you can.¡±

    Rose bowed over the broken figure of her friend and didn¡¯t respond. She already was doing everything she could.

 Chapter 72 - Caravan

    Oliver and Aton watched the shape of the other bandit leader fly away, the few remaining bandits tearing through the woods after him. Aton remained bound, hand and foot, sitting at Oliver¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Egin¡­ you bastard¡­¡± Aton¡¯s voice was soft, and Oli was of the mind that she hadn¡¯t even realized she had spoken out loud.

    ¡°Egin, is it?¡± Oliver asked. ¡°It appears he¡¯s left you for dead.¡±

    Aton huffed, the sound mocking. ¡°You know as well as I do that you¡¯re not going to kill me, pup.¡±

    Oli frowned. Unfortunately, she had a point. Had he been able to kill her in the midst of their fight, he would¡¯ve done so without pause, but doing the same to a helpless prisoner was a different matter. Still, that was no reason to let her relax.

    ¡°Maybe not,¡± he admitted, ¡°but Jellis has a magistrate in residence. Blessed by the Arbiter and everything. And as things stand, I wouldn¡¯t bet much on you avoiding the hempen price.¡±

    That got Aton¡¯s attention. She frowned down at the ground, and for once, she didn¡¯t bother to taunt him back.

    ¡°I might be able to put in a good word for you, you know. If you¡¯re willing to help us catch this Egin fellow. He did abandon you, after all.¡±

    Aton kept frowning thoughtfully, but continued to keep her thoughts to herself.

    Oliver shrugged, turning his attention back to the caravan. He itched to go see how the rest had fared, but he didn¡¯t dare leave Aton unattended. Cadence knew he was back there. The celestial would come back soon enough.

    ¡°How exactly did you end up with these bandits anyways?¡± OIiver asked Aton, trying to fill the silence. ¡°You¡¯re no outlaw, not fighting the way you do.¡±

    After another moment of stubborn silence, Oliver began to accept that the woman was ignoring him. She surprised him when she finally answered.

    ¡°I was born in Arsilet. Not rich, but goldblooded.¡± Oliver nodded. He had only a small idea of what Arsiletian society was like, but he knew those who still carried the pureblood of the original settlers were a class all their own, honored even if they weren¡¯t wealthy. Aton¡¯s skin and hair, both the same color of burnished gold, spoke to her heritage as loudly as her skills did.

    ¡°There are armsmasters in Arsilet that specifically work with goldbloods, giving us the training to keep up the reputation of our people, regardless of wealth. But¡­ suffice it to say I had little interest in those standards.¡±

    Oliver looked down. For a moment there, he thought he had heard something familiar in Aton¡¯s voice, a hint of wistful longing that echoed his own pain. He remembered his surprise when he first laid eyes on her. Her rough homespun clothing disguising the details of her body. Her hair, crudely cut short. Her masculine name.

    Oliver gasped. ¡°You¡¯re not a woman, are you?¡±

    Aton looked away stubbornly, and Oliver didn¡¯t push him. It was easy enough to figure out how the eclipsed man had fallen in with bandits now.

    Not long after that, Cadence and Derrik approached the pair, their faces solemn. Derrick still had some cuts and bruises left, but Oliver recognized the fresh pink skin of quickly healed wounds. The man must¡¯ve taken some potions before coming with Cadence.

    That boded ill. It meant Rose was occupied with much worse injuries.

    ¡°How is everyone?¡± Oliver asked, as soon as the two were within airshot.

    ¡°Bad,¡± Cadence said simply. ¡°We¡¯ll talk soon. Derrik, can you grab her?¡±

    ¡°Him,¡± Oliver corrected gently.

    Cadence gave Oli a look, then inspected Aton more closely before nodding. ¡°Okay. Derrik, can you grab him?¡±

    #

    ¡°Where are we at?¡± Cadence asked. Sunset had given way to true night while Rose had done what she could for Beryl and Harriet. Derrik took first watch over Aton so that Cadence and Oliver could review their remaining supplies. Now, Cadence was ready to get moving. Even with the exhaustion of the fight on her shoulders, she itched to start out, to find the bandits, to get help, to do something.

    The five members of the caravan who were still on their feet stood in a circle, trading worried looks around a hastily kindled fire. Rose couldn¡¯t seem to help a look over her shoulder at Beryl¡¯s still form every few seconds.

    ¡°I¡¯ve gotten Harriet moving again, but that¡¯s about all I can do for them,¡± Rose explained. ¡°It¡¯ll take everything else I have to keep Beryl from losing too much ground. That last one, with the wings¨Che got her in the shoulder, the lung, the hip, and the stomach.¡±

    Cadence winced, her pain reflected on the faces around her. ¡°We need to get her back to Jellis then, right?¡±

    ¡°As soon as we can.¡±

    ¡°Easier said than done,¡± Harriet said. Though healed, the older woman still moved gingerly. Rose had closed her own gut wound and ensured she was safe from infection, but too much strenuous activity could open the wound back up and leave her worse off than before. ¡°Only your wagon can still move. Given enough time to work on them, I might be able to get one of the others going, but as it stands¡­¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t risk your health or give Beryl that much time to backslide,¡± Oliver agreed. ¡°We need to get moving now.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°But seven people in one wagon is going to be a big ask. We can only hook two goats up to the traces. Even if we only take enough food for us to get by, we¡¯ll be overloaded.¡±

    ¡°And if you go back, you¡¯ll lose Egin,¡± Aton¡¯s low voice called over. The bandit leader was still bound to one side, where they could keep an eye on him.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Oliver asked. It was the first piece of information the imprisoned exile had volunteered since his capture.

    ¡°You saw him. He¡¯ll already have taken off to the secondary hideout. In Egin¡¯s book, Egin comes first. But he¡¯ll have to leave some of the clan behind to strike camp and carry the supplies and loot off to the backup hideout. If you can make it to our camp by tomorrow or maybe the day after, you might be able to catch them¨Cbut if not, they¡¯ll be gone.¡±

    ¡°Any particular reason you¡¯re suddenly being so helpful?¡± Oliver asked.

    Aton did the best he could to shrug with his arms tied behind his back. ¡°Like you said. Might be my best chance to get through this. Let me go, and I can guide you to the camp. Get you there before they can run for it.¡±

    Oliver turned back to the circle, his eyes worried. Rose seemed on the edge of panic, looking between the woodline and Beryl.

    Cadence found herself looking off to the same woodline, suddenly thoughtful. The woods here weren¡¯t nearly as dense as they were along the Lumber Road, or in the area surrounding Felisen. In fact¡­

    Cadence tilted her head. ¡°Derrik, you mind keeping an eye on Aton while we have a word?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    Harriet waved them away, gingerly taking a seat on the ground, and Cadence led Oliver and Rose a small distance away, where Aton wouldn¡¯t be able to hear their conversation.

    ¡°I don¡¯t trust him,¡± Oliver immediately said.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Cadence told him. ¡°Definitely not enough to let him lead us there. But I think he¡¯s right about the timing.¡±

    Reluctantly, Oliver nodded.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter though,¡± Rose interjected. ¡°We need to get Beryl back to Jellis, or she could die!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Cadence agreed. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t take all of us to do that. In fact, the less of us the better. The wagon could move faster if Oli and I went after the bandits by ourselves.¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re not trusting Aton to guide us, how would we do that?¡± Oli asked. ¡°Another trick of¡­ whatever it is your gifts are?¡±

    Cadence smiled at his tone. ¡°No, not a gift this time. My mother was a chief hunter, and I spent my childhood in woods more dense than these. I¡¯m willing to bet I could follow them back to the camp Aton told us about, as long as we leave soon, while the trail¡¯s still hot.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡±

    Cadence shrugged. ¡°I think so. Worst case scenario, we lose them and we can head back to the wagons. I¡¯m sure once Elway finds out what happened, he¡¯ll have men out here we can hook up with. We¡¯re out nothing trying.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± Rose said. ¡°Splitting up like that¡­ It''s risky.¡±

    Oliver frowned, looked back at the group. Cadence thought she saw his gaze linger on Beryl, then Aton.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got the deciding vote then, Oli,¡± Cadence told him gently.

    He looked back, alarm obvious on his face.

    ¡°I want to go, Rose wants us to stay together,¡± Cadence clarified. ¡°But you¡¯re the other one I¡¯d be putting at risk with this plan. If you¡¯re not up for it, I¡¯ll stick with you. We can give up on the bandits, get Beryl to safety, and make a new plan from there.¡±

    Oli chewed his bottom lip, obviously conflicted. His gaze turned back to the remains of Hugo¡¯s caravan, to the bodies they were leaving behind.

    #

    ¡°This a stupid idea,¡± Oli insisted, even as he packed his travel sack, making sure everything was ready to go.

    ¡°You made your choice, Oli,¡± Cadence reminded him as they did the same. ¡°Do you need me to tell you to man up?¡±

    Oli bristled, but Cadence said the words carefully, teasing without quite taunting, and he silently turned back to his packing. Reluctantly, he decided it would be best to leave his books behind. They¡¯d only be dead weight on the trail.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Harriet called out.

    ¡°Ready as they¡¯re gonna get,¡± Derrik replied, stepping away from the draft goats. The porter hooked the two freshest and healthiest draft goats into the traces, and had released the remainder to forage on their own.

    The big man himself had decided to stay behind with the remaining wagons, to bury the dead and try to ensure the safety of Hugo¡¯s remaining stock until the militia arrived.

    Oliver took a moment to squeeze Beryl¡¯s hand before he crawled out of the wagon after Cadence. The athletic girl¡¯s hand had been limp, but Oliver was sure that, for a moment, he had felt her grip tighten in his.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± he heard Cadence tell Rose.

    The petite girl nodded. ¡°I still think I should go with you¡­¡±

    ¡°Your place is with Beryl,¡± Oli reassured her. Without thinking, he stepped forward and gave Rose a brief hug¨Cor so he had intended.

    To his surprise, Rose¡¯s slender arms reached up to wrap around his neck, and the hug turned out to not be so brief. Oli looked down at the girl in surprise, and found her face upturned, too close to his own. Their lips met in a brief, lingering kiss.

    Her name was fitting, Oli decided, somewhere in the back of his panicked mind. She tasted sweet and floral¨Clike roses.

    Rose broke the kiss after a too-short moment, and stepped away before Oli could respond. She smiled shyly at him. ¡°Sorry. I just¡­ I¡¯ve been wanting to do that for a while.¡±

    ¡°A while?¡± Oli found himself echoing stupidly.

    ¡°Oblivious¡­¡± Cadence observed dryly, rolling her eyes.

    Oli flashed a glare at the smirking celestial, then looked back at Rose, still wrapped in his arms. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ now?¡±

    Rose shrugged. ¡°I might not get the chance again. I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s always gonna be a reason not to go for it.¡± Her full lips twitched in a tiny smile. ¡°Think of it as a good luck charm.¡±

    Oli was still trying to figure out how to respond to that as the redhead hopped up into the back of the wagon.

    ¡°Stay safe, okay?¡±

    ¡°Since you asked nicely,¡± Oli responded, his too-dry mouth moving on autopilot.

    Rose giggled.

    Next to her, Aton gagged. ¡°I take it back. You can execute me now.¡±

    Oliver made a rude gesture at the eclipsed bandit. Once he had decided on his best route forward, Aton had proven a surprising source of information on exactly who they were up against. In exchange, Rose agreed to speak on Aton¡¯s behalf before Jellis¡¯s magistrate, to give him a whisper of a chance at avoiding a hanging.

    ¡°Trail¡¯s going cold,¡± Cadence called out.

    Oli turned back, surprised at the celestial¡¯s enthusiasm. Or rather, surprised at his own lack of surprise.

    After the attack, there was no reason to be in good spirits. Four men lay dead at the hands of the bandits, and given Beryl¡¯s state, that number could very well grow. Sullen rage, solemn grief, or simple shocked fatigue all would¡¯ve been more appropriate reactions to the battle¡¯s aftermath than Cadence¡¯s determined optimism. But it had been the celestial who had kept everyone moving in those critical moments after the fight ended, who had looked towards their next steps when it was far easier to dwell on their past mistakes and present circumstances.

    Without knowing why, Oliver found himself returning Cadence¡¯s smile. His first adventure hadn¡¯t gone the way he wanted it to¨Cbut the story wasn¡¯t over yet, was it?

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Epilogue

    Alleghy was stronger than he looked, his lean body barely bowed by the limp weight of his former friend. Geoffrey had been wrapped in a gray veil, hiding his identity from any night owls out late enough to see the healer pass by.

    Storyteller, watching from a nearby alley, didn¡¯t need to see the corpse''s face to know who it was. He had been too late. Again. Another adventurer was dead because Storyteller hadn¡¯t been able to properly understand the weft of fate in time.

    Perhaps if he had left Cadence sooner¡­

    But no. That wouldn¡¯t have been right either. He had been left to choose which story to prioritize, and it would be years, maybe decades, before he knew if he had made the right choice.

    ¡°He shouldn¡¯t have gone like this¡­¡± Storyteller muttered to himself. ¡°To some nothing villain like Telik? An unimportant backwater criminal who barely earned the countenance of the Tyrant? It¡¯s not right.¡±

    He was still missing something.

    The master adventurer slid back into the obscuring shadows of the alley, and reached out with his power to touch the memento he had taken from the Sage¡¯s archon all those years before, the written record of a story she had told him in the witching hour one dark night¡­

    [Gift of Fate] reflected

    It was the Eldritch, not Storyteller, who studied the patterns before him with luminous yellow eyes, trying to trace the flow of the story that was left without Geoffrey. He had never been as good at it as he would¡¯ve liked. He lacked Ella¡¯s weaver¡¯s eye¡­

    There was a knot though, a tangle of dangling threads wound together in the top floor of Geoffrey¡¯s house. The Eldritch turned away from the grand story, relying on his soul sense instead.

    One was pushing against Initiate. He felt the burgeoning power of the Rogue¡­ a transmutation. A student of Geoffrey¡¯s? Perhaps primed to take his role¡­ that was worthy of note by itself.

    But the second presence! Even though it was lower level, it practically thrummed with the potential locked into its soul. Another mythic gift? And the void at that¡­

    The Eldritch returned his attention to the invisible yet omnipresent threads of the grand story, what Ella had once called the tapestry of fate. There must be a way to pick up these disparate threads, to return them to the greater whole¡­

    ¡°A homecoming¡­¡± The Eldritch muttered to himself, his eyes tracing the path that led one of the threads to that bedroom in the assassin¡¯s mansion.

    But how?

    He returned his attention to his mementos, to a story which had taken Allister three days to tell him. The story of how one man had navigated the murky political waters needed to found the trade cities.

    [Gift of the Trickster] reflected

    Had anyone been watching, they would¡¯ve seen the tall man¡¯s eyes flash from an eerie, incandescent yellow, to a bright green, dancing with silent laughter.

    ¡°Easy enough¡­¡± Sebastian Freehold decided, new plans forming in his head. A letter, delivered to the right place, would be enough to set those two souls off on a new adventure, to wind their stories together with those he had already tended to. ¡°A homecoming, indeed! Perfect!¡±

    It was just as well that no one was there to hear his laughter, as no one else would¡¯ve been able to understand what was so funny.

    #

    The King¡¯s study did not suit his rank, Sebastian mused. Cluttered and plain, emphasizing function over aesthetic or comfort. It was well and good to understand that your power was an obligation rather than a privilege, but given the price he had paid, he could at least afford to pamper himself a bit, couldn¡¯t he?

    No more than I can, Storyteller thought, his eyes returning to their neutral brown.

    Storyteller looked around the study. The fire was banked, burnt down to mere coals, but not doused entirely. The King still planned to return to work tonight. Good. He need only wait.

    Storyteller pulled out his book, patted through his bags, found a pen without a nib. He frowned, muttered deprecations to himself. Another minute¡¯s search turned up a vial of ink, but it took him five more to find a pack of fresh nibs.

    Satisfied, Storyteller set to writing, trying to keep straight the Eldritch¡¯s revelations and Sebastian¡¯s plans. After decades of experience with his myriad selves, it was only mildly disorienting.

    Hours later, the door of the study swung open to admit the King himself.

    ¡°Storyteller.¡± The King¡¯s tone was nonplussed. Of course, his soul sense would be as strong as Storyteller¡¯s, even if he lacked the older man¡¯s expertise with it.

    ¡°Your Majesty.¡±

    The most powerful man in the Realm swept into the room and turned to the fire, picking up a poker to stroke it back to life. ¡°Enough of that. You have even less reason for the honorifics than the rest of my supposed subjects.¡±

    ¡°I fear we must agree to disagree, Your Majesty.¡±

    The King¡¯s desk was the same one his grandmother had once sat behind, and no better for its age. It did not fit the expectations of his rank any more than the rest of the study did. He was, to all appearances, a young man barely into his thirties, but wastefully thin, as if disease had left him frail. He was neither frail nor diseased, but few understood the costs that came with true power.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    He wondered, as he often did, when was the last time the King had a full night¡¯s sleep?

    Storyteller took the opportunity to dry his text and close his journal. Once the fire had supplanted Teller as the cheeriest thing in the room, the King took a seat.

    ¡°I assume this is in regards to the Heartlands?¡±

    The King never did have any time to dance around a subject. ¡°Correct. I¡¯ve just come from there.¡±

    The King sighed. ¡°Let me have it then. How bad is it?¡±

    ¡°Bad. I believe another greater threat may have taken root.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I know you¡¯d take action for nothing less.¡±

    That was a subtle jab. Storyteller knew that the King wished he was more active. There were simply too few archons left¡­ But his ability to move had limits, as they both well knew. Storyteller didn¡¯t take up the verbal riposte.

    ¡°I closed no less than three thin places along the Lumber Road. Arrisan, Felisen, and Kellister. I was too late in Arrisan. Half the town was slaughtered before I stopped the coven that had risen there. Add to that undead attacks along the Flax Road and a binding hag consolidating power in Emeston¡­¡±

    The King¡¯s thin shoulders slumped. The young man picked up a series of packets from his desk and tossed them to Storyteller to review.

    ¡°These came in over the past few days,¡± the King explained. ¡°Sickness in Valley Hearth. Bandits threaten the Cliff Way. And now wild magic has been sighted north of Correntry.¡± He waved at the stacks of correspondences to one side of his desk. ¡°Add to that record breaking spawns in the Umbral and Tidal Wastes, even as my own knights are pushed to their limits in the Lunar.¡±

    ¡°Very bad indeed¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too much, Teller. First the Painlord, then the Lich of Scales coming over the Divide, then that cyclops century in the Frontier, now a coven in the Heartlands¡­ it¡¯s all coming undone.¡±

    Not for the first time, Storyteller wondered if the Queen had made the right choice in her successor. But he recalled the eager young sentinel he had taken into the Wastes for the first time, the prodigy who had risen through his levels faster than any in history. Storyteller had thought him the right choice for the gift of the crown then, too.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be defeatist, Your Majesty. Things are not as bad as they seem. My network may not be what it once was, but I¡¯ll see to it that some help arrives where it¡¯s needed soon.¡±

    The King blew out a breath and closed his eyes. Storyteller knew the feeling, the need to block out the endless stimuli that came with expanded senses. ¡°And the next threat? What then?¡±

    Storyteller shrugged. ¡°All three of the Dark Worlds have committed greater threats in recent years. They won¡¯t have the ability to toss things like these at us again for some time, I expect. New archons are on the rise too. Everbright, the Mendicant. It¡¯ll only be years before we have help again.¡±

    The King made a frustrated motion. ¡°Fine, fine. Tell me, what can your people do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll speak to the Knights-Gallant. One had already taken a hand in the Heartlands anyways, a second sent to Correntry should make the difference we need. There are a few other adventurers around too, those I trust. I¡¯ll see about pointing them down to the Cliff Way and Valley Hearth.¡±

    ¡°And the undead?¡±

    ¡°I have directed some resources in that direction already. A little push here and there, and I expect that threat will be handled soon enough. I¡¯ll have a couple cadres go towards Westerlen and Terast too, help tilt those in our favor.¡±

    ¡°That leaves us two major problems.¡±

    ¡°At this point, the only cure in Emeston is the disease,¡± Storyteller told him. ¡°Chaos will seize the city, but I expect the threats there will have no more luck controlling the anarchy than we would. It¡¯s not worth it to send resources that way, not yet.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps¡­¡±

    Storyteller frowned, but offered no further protest. Still, the King noticed the expression.

    ¡°Trade city or no, they¡¯re my subjects. If I can ease the pain to come for them, it is my duty to do so.¡±

    ¡°I doubt the Golden Council will see it that way, Your Majesty, much less Correntry and Alvanny.¡±

    The King shrugged slender shoulders. ¡°Their feelings don¡¯t change my duty. But I need to know what¡¯s going on in Elliven before I make any moves.¡±

    ¡°You noticed it too, then.¡±

    ¡°Half the Heartlands is going up in flames, and we¡¯ve no word of problems from Elliven? If we¡¯re dealing with a greater coven, then there are still hags unaccounted for.¡±

    ¡°True enough,¡± Storyteller admitted with a frown. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m at something of a loss of how to handle the situation there. With no Duke to take the reins of the city¡­¡±

    The King shook his head, his face marred by self-recrimination. ¡°I fear I made a mistake there. I wanted to drive opportunity. Give any dedicated sentinel the chance at reaching Master and becoming the city¡¯s ruler. But it¡¯s been nearly fifty years, and there¡¯s still been no progress. The only Experts in that damned city seem uninterested in leveling any farther, and something about the Arboreal Waste seems to trend towards lower ranked threats.

    ¡°Based on what I¡¯ve heard, I think some of the powers that have grown in Elliven would prefer the city to go without a Duke. ¡°

    The King¡¯s eyes looked more deeply shadowed than ever. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to agree with that assumption. Which is why I¡¯ve begun to prepare an Authority.¡±

    Now that was news. ¡°An Authority? Truly?¡±

    ¡°Coven or no coven, something needs to change in the Heartlands, Storyteller. This situation has only proven that. So I¡¯d like to ask a favor. Formally.¡±

    Another surprise. Was this the same King that had been so passive since he had taken the crown? ¡°Name it.¡±

    ¡°Go to Elliven yourself. See what there is to see. Find out what the hags plan for the Arboreal Wastes, and what passes in Vital. In a few months time, I¡¯ll have my Authority ready, and I need to know where he¡¯ll do the most good.¡±

    ¡°You know I¡¯ll need to ask a cost, in time.¡±

    ¡°And you know I¡¯ll pay it.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll go get what forces I can moving to where they¡¯ll do the most good. You know how to get in touch with me.¡± He never had before, but there was a first time for everything.

    ¡°Worry not, Storyteller. I¡¯ll keep your waystone close at hand. Good luck.¡±

    ¡°And to you.¡±

    That was it. There would be no more time to prepare. A new board had been set. A new chapter was ready to begin. Storyteller could only hope that this time, for once, he had done enough to set the story running the right way.

 Chapter 1 - Cadence

    The night was deep and quiet, a layer of thick, soft velvet that obscured the sparse wood and the two youths creeping through it, one much more ably than the other. The lead figure, Cadence, had always found the deepest hours of night time comforting. Even in the outwardly foreboding woods, the youth was reminded of the village she had grown up in, of wandering through the forest that surrounded Felisen late at night, creeping from tree to tree, guided only by the vaguely shadowed suggestions of foliage around her.

    Even now, following the obvious trail of footsteps and cleared brush left behind by a band of fleeing bandits towards their distant camp, the serene stillness of the night kept Cadence relaxed.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    At least until the second figure¡¯s curses rent the veil of peaceful darkness to tatters.

    Cadence stopped and sighed. Oliver¡¯s curse was accompanied by the sound of wild flailing and the fluttering noises of a bush shaking.

    ¡°Can you quiet down?¡± she hissed behind her in the general direction of the noise.

    ¡°No! This bush is- AH!¡± Oliver¡¯s movements became even more strained, the jerkiness obvious even in the bare silhouette visible through the night air.

    Cadence was moving, power coursing through her, even as Oliver¡¯s gasp turned into a cry for assistance. ¡°It¡¯s a bramble-spawn!¡±

    Had an onlooker been able to make out details of the brief struggle, they would''ve seen the leafy branches of the shrub moving of their own accord, entangling and trapping the struggling boy. They also would¡¯ve seen Cadence lash out with a keen-bladed little hatchet, her cuts smooth and accurate despite the darkness.

    Cadence was a small youth, often looking far younger than her sixteen years, a perception reinforced by her seemingly endless well of energy and positivity. Her body had a slim androgyny she was proud of, lacking both feminine curves and masculine hardness. Her most striking feature was her hair, a brilliant shade of sky-blue that was obvious even in the depths of the night, and which matched the color of her eyes perfectly.

    Cadence was a celestial, an identity that had only recently been codified by the rebellious youths of the Realm. Though at birth she had been called a girl, bright and cheery as morning sunlight, Cadence often felt the need to glow with the same hard, clean light as the moon, taking on a masculine persona cleverly named Caden. Neither wholly male or female, lunar or solar, Cadence had only recently learned the word those like her used to describe themselves.

    She was not the sun or the moon, but like them, she was of the stars, a celestial.

    Some people, like her erstwhile traveling companion, insisted on using neutral words like ¡°they¡± to describe Cadence, and while she didn¡¯t fault them for that, she didn¡¯t quite consider it correct. She was a she, except when she was Caden, who was a he. That seemed simple enough to Cadence. But as the neutral pronouns weren¡¯t inherently wrong, she wasn¡¯t insulted by those who preferred to err on the side of caution.

    Cadence was also a gifted, blessed by two powers carved into her soul and marked on her skin, able to shape magic into distinct forms. It was one of those abilities, enabled by her near-unique gift of the echo, that allowed her to make short work of the bramble-spawn that had trapped her companion.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    [Soul Surge] activated

    Awareness increased

    By boosting her awareness, one of the ten attributes that defined the ways magic could alter her body, the dark became more transparent, less crippling, allowing Cadence to make out both the monster and her friend to ensure that her hatchet only cut through the former.

    The bramble-spawn was bigger than the one Cadence had once fought alone, but it was still of little threat to either of the traveling youths. Once Cadence had cut Oliver free, the pair made quick work of the overgrown weed, sword and hatchet working together to cut through the monster¡¯s vine-like limbs and expose the tangled roots of its core.

    Afterwards, both were left breathing hard. Stamina, the attribute that governed endurance and energy, was also a common cost for special attacks, and both had burned a small chunk of the attribute in the brief scuffle.

    ¡°So?¡± Cadence asked, irritated. ¡°Now do you think it¡¯s okay to stop for the night?¡±

    Oliver grumbled. ¡°If they get away, this was all for nothing.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t be far, they''re even more inept at woodcraft than I thought. I¡¯ll be able to find them in the morning, no problem.¡±

    Oliver blew out a long breath. ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°If nothing else, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s a better idea than trying to fight a dozen bandits when we stumble into them in the middle of the night. They might be a little more dangerous than our friendly bush back there.¡±

    ¡°Yeah well¡­ fine.¡±

    Cadence was quickly realizing that even the begrudging concession from the former noble was a win, and set about trying to find a suitable place to stop for the night before her Soul Surge ran out.

    #

    At a glance, Cadence and Oliver couldn¡¯t be more different. Regardless of presented gender, Cadence was small for her age, and after months spent on the road, could only really be called ¡°scruffy,¡± her muscles as taut and lean as whipcord, clothing frayed and dirtied. Oliver''s body, on the other hand, could best be described as ¡°heroic.¡± He was tall, nearly a foot taller than Cadence, with an athletic physique and broad shoulders. Even bloody, tired, and covered in road dirt, Oliver was well-put together and inarguably handsome. Oliver¡¯s skin was darker than Cadence¡¯s pale complexion, a mingled olive tone that spoke of his mixed ancestry just as much as his dark brown hair.Stolen novel; please report.

    Their personalities were just as different. Where Cadence was energetic, eager, and friendly (with the exception of the very occasional bout of melancholy), Oliver was consistently sullen and quiet, introverted and easily irritated. Despite his skilled bladework and proven ability to defend himself, outside of combat the former noble lacked any real confidence in himself. His self-doubt only made his social obliviousness and paradoxical noble arrogance that much more grating.

    Cadence had little doubt that Oliver would¡¯ve made an excellent noble, had he stayed with his family in Elliven. He had a habit of taking charge of a conversation, even when he didn¡¯t know where it was going, and when he was properly incensed, he had an almost magnetic air of authority. Unfortunately, Oliver had, indeed, left his family home, for reasons Cadence was only vaguely aware of, and the rest of the world rarely had need for his unconscious superiority complex.

    Still, Cadence trusted the squire¡¯s blunt honesty and sometimes, on the road, that was all you could count on (or at least, so she assumed from the stories she had grown up on).

    ¡°This is miserable.¡±

    Not that it made his complaining any less tiring.

    ¡°Then go to sleep,¡± Cadence told him. Stubbornly, she kept her eyes closed and did not move from the blanket she had wrapped herself in.

    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t risk a fire?¡±

    ¡°Extremely,¡± Cadence repeated for the third time. ¡°On a night like this, our bandit friends will be able to see the glow of a campfire for miles.¡±

    Oliver sighed. Unfortunately, they were not on a hike through the (mostly) abandoned woods of the deadlands for fun, nor were they laying down after a pleasant, if tedious, day making their way up the Flax Road with Hugo¡¯s Trading Company, as Oliver had been for weeks and Cadence had been for days.

    Hours before, the very bandits the pair were chasing had descended on poor Hugo¡¯s caravan, killing the merchant himself along with most of his employees, as well as badly injuring two others¨Cincluding their friend, Beryl, a warden-in-training who, by now, may very well have succumbed to her wounds. The other young warden recruit they had been traveling with, Rose, was returning to the nearby town of Jellis along with the scant survivors and the single prisoner they had taken from the bandits.

    Oliver and Cadence were young, and very different, but they both agreed on how to handle the human predators who had attacked an innocent trader¡¯s wagons. As such, they had journeyed into the woods alone, trying to make the most of the fleeing bandits'' tracks before the group could strike their camp and vanish into the deadlands.

    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I¡¯ve no doubt they¡¯re also muddling through a cold camp tonight.¡±

    ¡°What makes you so sure?¡±

    Cadence finally gave in and sat up, throwing off her blanket. Despite them laying down under the same low pine bough, the night was dark enough that, with her Soul Surge worn off, Cadence couldn¡¯t make out the shape of her companion. ¡°What part of ¡®visible for miles¡¯ do you not¡­ Forget it.¡± Cadence blew out a breath, trying to force a little of her customary cheer into her tired voice. ¡°Look, are you going to bed, or are you just going to lay here whining all night?¡±

    ¡°No. I just¡­. I don¡¯t know. We¡¯ve been through a lot today, I want to talk.¡±

    Cadence nodded to herself, waiting for the squire to elaborate. After a couple minutes without any follow up, she asked, ¡°What do you want to talk about then?¡±

    A moment of silence stretched into a minute, then two. Cadence had begun to think her companion had fallen asleep after all before he replied, ¡°Your gifts.¡±

    Cadence frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t talk about my gifts.¡±

    ¡°Too bad. It¡¯s my turn to force an issue.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it supposed to be a whole thing that nobles like to keep their gifts secret? I thought asking someone for their gifts like this is supposed to be rude.¡±

    ¡°Not for allies,¡± Oliver replied sharply. ¡°If we¡¯re supposed to go into battle together, I need to know what you can do.¡±

    Cadence chewed her lower lip, not bothering to hide her anxiety in the inky blackness of their makeshift camp. Now she was the one on the back foot¡­

    ¡°You know what I can do,¡± she tried. ¡°We fought, and I won. I helped you with Aton, too.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but what I saw doesn¡¯t make any sense! I¡¯ve seen you use too many abilities, from too many different gifts. Either you''re lying about being Novice level or¡­ or I don¡¯t know what. But I need to.¡±

    Guilt gnawed at Cadence¡¯s guts. He was right, of course. At Novice level, the lowest level for gifted, an individual could only have two gifts. Each of those gifts offered just two abilities, along with a boon, a passive increase to attributes. Combined, they also allowed for a fifth ability, an augment produced by the intersection of two gifts. By any normal standards, Cadence had far too many powers¨Cbut at the same time, she had far too few.

    Prompted by the direction of her thoughts, Cadence¡¯s stats and gifts appeared before her eyes, in the odd, not quite real way gift descriptions worked, as if they were simultaneously figments of her imagination and physical words floating in front of her, clearly visible in the darkness without shedding any light.

    Cadence of Felisen

    Level: Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Wanderer]: +3 to Stamina and Awareness

    [Gift of the Echo]: +1 to all attributes, stacks with all other boons

    Attributes:

    Strength: 6 (5 + 1)

    Resilience: 7 (6 + 1)

    Stamina: 10 (7 + 3 + 1)

    Coordination: 7 (6 + 1)

    Speed: 6 (5 + 1)

    Will: 8 (7 + 1)

    Knowledge: 7 (6 + 1)

    Focus: 5 (4 + 1)

    Awareness: 10 (6 + 3 + 1)

    Charm: 6 (5 + 1)

    [Gift of the Wanderer]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 47%

    Explore new places and understand the heart of an adventurer to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Know Direction] - Active, Utility - Learn the direction of true north. No cost.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Knowledge] - Active, Utility - Learn rudimentary knowledge about any single target. May not work on exceptional or rare targets. Minor focus cost per use.

    [Wanderer¡¯s Mantle] - Boon - Moderate boost to stamina and awareness.

    [Gift of the Echo]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 42%

    Use abilities on unique targets to gain experience.

    Abilities:

    [Gift Reflection] - Active, Soul - Copy one gift ability from a nearby target. Gift abilities operate at Novice level regardless of the target¡¯s level. Abilities from certain gifts cannot be copied. This ability has a one hour cool down, but the copied ability is retained until it is used again.

    [Soul Surge] - Active, Buff - Increase one attribute by five points. Lesser duration, moderate stamina and focus cost incurred when buff expires.

    [Soul Empowerment] - Boon - Minor boost to all attributes.

    Augments:

    [Gift Divination] - Wanderer, Echo - Active, Utility, Soul - Learn the gifts possessed by a target. Can only be used on targets your level or lower.

    Cadence was not prone to keeping secrets. If anything, she was just the opposite, often having a hard time keeping any thoughts or opinions to herself. But her gifts were one thing she kept quiet about, due to the simple fact that she wasn¡¯t supposed to have either of them.

 Chapter 2 - Oliver

    ¡°We should go to bed.¡±

    Oliver felt his eyebrow rise, and he looked in the general direction of where Cadence had laid down their blanket. ¡°Seriously?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What? It¡¯s been a long day.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the most transparent dodge I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± Oliver told them. ¡°And I grew up surrounded by noble kids, the least subtle people in the Realm.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well¡­¡±

    Oliver heard a little rustling, as if Cadence was squirming in place just from the question. He didn¡¯t understand why the celestial was so uncomfortable with being asked about their gifts¨Cof course he¡¯d need to know what they could do if the two of them were going to go into battle together, especially as outnumbered as they were. In fact, he was all but certain this was the most quiet Cadence had ever been around him.

    Even as Oli decided that maybe he could try giving a little to get a little, his gifts appeared before his eyes.

    Oliver Argent

    Level: Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Vanguard]: +2 to strength, resilience, and stamina

    [Gift of Wind]: +3 to coordination and speed

    Attributes:

    Strength: 7 (5 + 2)

    Resilience: 8 (6 + 2)

    Stamina: 8 (6 + 2)

    Coordination: 8 (5 + 3)

    Speed: 7 (4 + 3)

    Will: 6

    Knowledge: 7

    Focus: 5

    Awareness: 5

    Charm: 4

    Quintessence Pool: 10

    [Gift of the Vanguard]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 57%

    Defeat foes to grow your skill in the face of danger

    Abilities:

    [Reckless Strike] - Active, Attack - Make a special attack with potency increased by two tiers. Major stamina cost.

    [Reinforced Defense] - Triggered, Defense - When blocking an attack, your equipment is treated as one tier of potency higher. Each time this is triggered, there is a minor focus cost.

    [Battlefield¡¯s Blessing] - Boon - Lesser boost to your strength, stamina, and resilience.

    [Gift of Wind]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 43%

    Push your limits to grow closer to the wind

    Abilities:

    [Gust Blast] - Active, Attack - Manifest a gust of wind straight in front of you. Inflicts little direct damage, but can disorient or physically move enemies. Moderate quintessence cost.

    [Mantle of Wind] - Active, Utility - Conjure a small cloak of swirling wind around yourself. Reduces fall speed. One minute duration. Minor quintessence cost.

    [Master of Wind] - Boon - Moderate boost to coordination and speed.

    Augments

    [Wind Slash] - Wind, Vanguard - Active, Attack - Use a bladed weapon to make a ranged attack delivered through hardened air. Damage and quintessence cost depend on the weapon used to make the attack.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he suggested, ¡°I¡¯ll go first. I have the gifts of wind and the vanguard. I¡¯m primarily a melee combatant, as you¡¯ve seen, with vanguard giving me a powerful but costly special attack and a reliable defensive ability. The gift of wind gives me some flexibility though, especially when I¡¯m outnumbered, and my augment gives me a mid-range attack option.¡±

    ¡°I know all of that,¡± Cadence said simply.

    Oliver exhaled out his nose at the celestial¡¯s matter-of-fact tone. ¡°Want to explain how, then?¡± Silence. ¡°No? Okay. So I know you have the gift of the vanguard, like me.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± Cadence asked, their voice leading.

    ¡°Because you used Reinforced Defense when we fought that first day,¡± Oliver told them, trying to be as frustrating to Cadence as they were being to him. ¡°Which is the same way I know you have the gift of the outlaw, because I saw you use the same mental ability Aton did.¡±

    ¡°Menacing Glare,¡± Cadence confirmed. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t the same. Aton has it upgraded to Stunning Strike, I could only do the Novice version.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Oliver said, pleased that he had managed to wring a response out of the celestial. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make sense. I¡¯ve seen you display charm, will, speed, coordination, and strength that all go beyond what either of those gifts should grant at Novice level. But never all at the same time. And I have no idea how you would know that Aton leveled up his ability.¡±

    Silence again. Damn it.

    ¡°Fine, be like that. Here¡¯s my thought then. You have some sort of gift that lets you copy gifts from other people, and another that gives you some kind of flexible buff. An Artist gift maybe? But I saw you after the fight back there¨Cyou were all but ready to pass out until you drank from that flask you carry around. So I figure whatever this gift is, which is certainly one I¡¯ve never heard of, has some pretty big costs to go with how strong it is. Any thoughts? No?If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Okay, so let¡¯s keep going out from there. I know about a pretty fair number of gifts. All part of a classical education. But I¡¯ve never heard of one that lets you do things like copy other gifts. Which means that whatever this gift is, it¡¯s gotta be pretty rare. Some really specific relic, or an obscure archetype. That sort of rarity is an advantage¨Cno one would know how to respond to a mimic like that. So you keep whatever it is to yourself, so people can¡¯t use it against you. Right?¡±

    Silence. In the distance, a cricket chirped.

    ¡°Am I close at least?¡±

    More silence. Then, finally, reluctantly, an answer.

    ¡°Actually¡­ kind of, yeah.¡± Cadence sounded surprised, their usual exuberance suppressed.

    ¡°How close?¡±

    Cadence sighed again, and Oliver could hear the reluctance in the sound. Still, after a moment, they explained, ¡°You¡¯re more or less right on my abilities. I can copy just one ability from a person at a time, with an hour between uses. And I can give any of my attributes a major boon for a few minutes, but I pay a stamina and focus cost when it wears off.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Oliver said, ¡°want to explain where you got a gift like that then?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Cadence said simply. ¡°You were right that you needed to understand what my gift could do, but I don¡¯t owe you that part.¡±

    Oliver frowned to himself. He didn¡¯t like it, but he was forced to accept that Cadence was right. As odd as their gift was, now that he understood what it could do, he didn¡¯t need to know where the gift came from. He could accept that.

    ¡°Are both those abilities from just one gift though?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°And your other gift?¡± Any Novice gifted would need to have two blessings.

    Another moment of thoughtful silence. ¡°The gift of the wanderer,¡± Cadence finally admitted. ¡°It¡¯s a utility gift. Just gives me some barebones knowledge and a compass.¡±

    ¡°Wanderer¡­ I suppose I¡¯m wasting my breath asking what archetype grants that?¡± Oliver asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal,¡± Cadence suddenly told him. ¡°You answer one of my questions and I¡¯ll answer one of yours. Anything you want about my gifts. Deal?¡±

    This time it was Oliver¡¯s turn to be silent as he thought furiously. It didn¡¯t take a social savant to know what the celestial would want to ask about¨Cthey had made no secret of their interest in Oliver¡¯s gender identity, a topic he was reluctant to talk about, at best.

    But still, he¡¯d be lying if he said there wasn¡¯t part of him that¡­

    Well, he always had been talented at lying to himself.

    ¡°Tit for tat. Deal,¡± Oliver replied, his mouth moving seemingly without his brain¡¯s agreement.

    ¡°Why are you so uncomfortable with being eclipsed?¡±

    ¡°Eclipsed¡± was another term Cadence had picked up at the same time as ¡°celestial.¡± It referred to people who identified more with the gender opposite the one they had been assigned at birth¨Cthe metaphorical moon blocking out the sun, or the sun illuminating the moon. Within their first moments of meeting, Cadence had puzzled out the identity Oliver had long since kept repressed and confronted him, only to be swiftly rebuked.

    Of course. Oliver chewed his lower lip, not sure how to answer. He did not like discussing, or even thinking about, his gender identity, and insisted on being referred to as a boy even after Cadence confronted him with their guess.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s pretty obvious,¡± he finally replied. ¡°I told you about my father, and about the letters.¡±

    ¡°You did,¡± Cadence acknowledged, their voice soft, even sympathetic. ¡°And¡­ I¡¯m sorry that he did that. I can¡¯t even imagine¡­¡±

    ¡°I guess your parents were a little more accommodating?¡± Oliver asked, trying his hardest to keep the bile he felt out of his voice.

    ¡°It took my mother a little bit,¡± Cadence explained, ¡°but she came around. She supported me, even if she didn¡¯t always understand. She certainly didn¡¯t do anything like that though, no.¡±

    Oliver shrugged, the motion pointless in the clinging shadows of the boughs. ¡°Well there you go. It¡¯s hard to want to be anything when your first attempt to embrace it ends that poorly.¡±

    Cadence blew out a slow breath, and he heard the celestial shift around, wiggling closer to him. It wasn¡¯t quite anything as intimate as a hug¨Ceven Oli knew he would¡¯ve bristled if they had tried that¨Cbut the feel of their slim body, pressed close enough to be warm against his side, was a small reassurance by itself.

    ¡°But you left home, right? To become a silver knight?¡±

    Oli groaned. ¡°Just how much did Rose and Beryl tell you about me?¡±

    Oliver could hear the little huff of laughter his complaint drew out of the celestial, and feel it as their shoulders shook where they pressed into his side. ¡°Not that much,¡± they reassured him. ¡°It was actually Alyssia who told me about it. About her brother leaving home, and how little her family supported him¡­¡± Cadence paused a moment before adding, ¡°and about how proud she was of him for leaving.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Oli asked. He suddenly found his throat tight as he thought back to that last day in Elliven. Oli had always been close to his older siblings, and before he left his family home, he had made sure to take one last meal with them both. During that conversation, Adeline had offered Alyssia, his sister, some help getting over line to Initiate level, directing her to a village in the heartlands. Not long after Oli met Cadence, he learned that they had actually met Alyssia in that same village, and while they had shared stories of the times they had fought together, Oliver hadn¡¯t expected his sister to have talked about him the way Cadence was describing.

    ¡°She asked me to say ¡®hi¡¯, you know. If I ever met you.¡± Oli felt his lips turn up in a little smile, despite the tears their words provoked. ¡°And to tell you to come visit her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple¡­¡± Olivia said.

    ¡°It is,¡± Cadence reassured him, bumping their shoulder to his. ¡°Simple isn¡¯t the same thing as easy, after a lifetime hiding yourself, but it really is as simple as just accepting the you that makes you happy.¡±

    Oli chewed his bottom lip again, feeling how raw it was getting from his constant fretting. ¡°I just¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ready yet.¡±

    ¡°I know. But I¡¯ll be here when you are¨Cand I¡¯m sure plenty of others will be too. Like Alyssia, and like this Adeline you told me about.¡±

    Oli tried to respond, but felt his voice crack a little. He paused to swallow, trying to work his way through the tangle of confused emotions the celestial had stirred up. ¡°I¡­ Thank you. I guess. For getting me to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Cadence said simply. ¡°Now it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    ¡°R-right¡­¡± Oliver swallowed, trying to relax the tight knot that had swelled in his throat, and resisted the urge to sniff away the goo his budding tears had brought with them. It was still dark after all, if he kept quiet, there was no reason for Cadence to know he was crying. He recognized that Cadence was even trying to give him a distraction from everything she had forced him to confront. ¡°Your first gift. The weird one. Where did you get it from?¡±

    Cadence¡¯s voice was surprisingly wry when she replied, ¡°A man named Storyteller.¡±

    What? That didn¡¯t make any sense. ¡°You mean¡­ like, he made an ensouled item for you with the gift?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s another thing that¡¯s not so simple,¡± Cadence said dryly. ¡°It¡¯s called the gift of the echo. An adventurer named Storyteller saved me from a bad decision I made, and he offered to somehow give me the same blessing he had. I still don¡¯t really get how, but it worked, and I got the gift of the echo, without any relic or archetype being involved.¡±

    Oliver could feel his logic tugging free from the mire of his feelings, caught by the puzzle Cadence¡¯s answer proposed. ¡°That¡­ that¡¯s not how it works, though.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Cadence replied, ¡°but here we are.¡±

    ¡°And he didn¡¯t tell you why or how this gift works like that?¡±

    ¡°Magic,¡± Cadence said. ¡°That was his go to answer for a lot of the weird stuff I saw around him.¡±

    ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not-¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°What about your other gift?¡± Oli asked eagerly. ¡°The wanderer¨CI¡¯ve never heard of that one either.¡±

    ¡°I already answered one question,¡± Cadence observed, her tone teasing. ¡°Do you want to go another round?¡±

    Oli rolled his eyes, but he relaxed back. Still, he had to blow out a long breath before his overwhelmed brain managed to cobble together an answer. ¡°I think if we did, I¡¯d never get to sleep. I¡­ I guess I¡¯m good for tonight.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm.¡± Doubt laced Cadence¡¯s reply, but she let it go. ¡°Good night then, Oli. Rest up. Tomorrow we hunt bandits.¡±

 Chapter 3 - Tenebres

    It was late morning in the coastal trade city of Emeston, a city of gold and squalor, of riches and crime, where two youths stood in the cluttered workroom of a dead man, both silently caught up in their own thoughts and the urgent distractions of their emotions. Neither of the youths conformed to what would be considered human features, each showing the faint effects of over-exposure to warping magic. As with all such wraiths, their inhuman traits were as markedly different as their origins.

    One, an eighteen year-old girl with a frame of coiled muscle only slightly softened by the lushness of her curves, had skin so darkly purple that in the right light, it appeared nearly black. Her eyes and hair were a bright shade of violet, and though the room was too well-lit to tell, they had a faint glow to them. Her name was Allana, and Emeston was the only home she had ever known¨Cfor better or ill. Her wraith traits were the heritage of some ancestor, as was the case for most of the wraiths in the Realm.

    The other figure in the room, an androgynous boy a couple years younger than Allana, had only become a wraith recently, and his appearance reflected the tragic nature of the manifestation that had warped his body. His naturally dark skin was tinted by a gray pallor that gave him the appearance of a fresh corpse, while his hair was bleached to an uncanny bone white. His eyes, most unsettlingly, were the color of still wet blood, brighter crimson than the stains still scattered throughout the house they stood in.

    The boy¡¯s name was Tenebres, though he often went by Seo, and were it not for his wraith traits, his most noticeable feature would be his androgynous curves, a measure of solar softness that ran counter to his lunar identity. This was not a product of his transformation, but rather an aesthetic he purposefully cultivated, complete with cosmetics on his face and clothes as tightly bound as Allana¡¯s.

    Unlike Allana, Tenebres had only recently come to Emeston, in the days following the same unfortunate incident that transformed his body and given him a gift he preferred not to discuss, but he and the streetwise orphan had become fast friends, and their connection had quickly bloomed into something neither was willing to call a relationship but which was equally satisfying to the both of them.

    Before Tenebres¡¯s eyes floated his stats, in the vague way notifications could.

    Tenebres

    Level: Novice

    Gifts:

    [Gift of the Void]: +5 will and charm

    [Gift of the Evoker]: +2 to coordination, knowledge, and focus

    Attributes:

    Strength: 3

    Resilience: 4

    Stamina: 4

    Coordination: 7 (5 + 2)

    Speed: 4

    Will: 11 (6 + 5)

    Knowledge: 9 (7 + 2)

    Focus: 7 (5 + 2)

    Awareness: 6

    Charm: 10 (5 + 5)

    Mystical Well: 10

    [Gift of the Void]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 57%

    Embrace the Void

    Abilities:

    [Void Invocation] - Active, Summon - Open a gate and beckon a fiend to cross over. Nature and power of the fiend as well as ability cost varies based on the strength of the invocation. Sufficiently powerful fiends may be difficult to control. Moderate duration.

    [Sacrificial Victim] - Active, Final - Make a physical attack that does a small amount of dark damage on a hit. If this hit kills the target, receive a moderate boost to all physical or mental attributes for a lesser duration. Minor focus cost.

    [Enshadowed Soul] - Boon - Major boost to will and charm.

    [Gift of the Evoker]

    Level: Novice

    Experience: 39%

    Advance your theoretical and practical knowledge of evocation

    Abilities:

    [Novice Evocations] - Spell - Gain access to Novice level evocations, utilizing your mystical well as a resource. Spells require study in order to learn.

    [Arcane Mind] - Boon - Lesser boost to coordination, knowledge, and focus.

    Augments:

    [Blood Magic] - Void, Evoker - Passive - You may take damage in order to enhance the power of your evocation spells.

    Tenebres sighed. He dismissed his attributes and put down the battered lantern he had been inspecting in an effort to keep his hands busy. Why Geoffrey, their late mentor and master assassin, had felt the need to keep all of this crap, he would never know. Geoffrey was beyond the ability to question now.

    ¡°We need to decide what to do next,¡± Tenebres finally said.

    Allana blinked at his words, as if coming out of a reverie. Tenebres¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully¨Che had caught his partner spacing out no less than four times in the brief hour or two they had been awake. That kind of inattentiveness was extremely unlike the normally paranoid, suspicious girl.

    The confusion and conflict obvious in her expression was just as uncharacteristic, and Tenebres found himself moving closer to her without thinking, wrapping an arm around her waist.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Allana¡¯s voice was soft, almost lost, far cry from the domineering confidence she typically projected. Not that he could blame her, really. Just the night before she had seen the death of her friend and mentor, the first person to show her she had worth, at the hands of her adoptive father, the crimelord Telik, who she herself then killed not long thereafter. That was bound to shake anyone to their core.

    Tenebres blew out a breath. ¡°Okay. Well, let¡¯s start from the top. We can try to go into business without Geoffrey.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Allana¡¯s voice hardened a little, and she went so far as to jerk her head in a tiny shake. ¡°No. I¡¯m done being an assassin. I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m just done with that.¡±

    Tenebres¡¯s eyebrows lifted. For months, as long as they had known each other, the pair had been training with Geoffrey to be assassins, completing an assortment of jobs, including taking down two of the man¡¯s marks themselves.

    But that hadn¡¯t been all they had done with Geoffrey. For whatever reason¨Che had always been vague on why¨CGeoffrey had spent as much time or more hunting monsters than people, and even those people he took contracts on had accepted forbidden gifts that marked them as needing destruction. More of their time, in fact, had been spent killing minor and lesser monsters than anything else. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°There is the other part of his work,¡± Tenebres suggested cautiously.

    ¡°The monster killing, you mean?¡±

    Tenebres nodded. ¡°How does that sound?¡±

    ¡°That¡­ I think I might be able to-¡±

    Allana¡¯s response and the small smile that had just started to turn up at the corners of her mouth, were both interrupted by a small, polite knock at the front of Geoffrey¡¯s manor house¨Cwhich was odd, considering that the front door of the place had been torn off.

    Tenebres looked to the hall in surprise¨Cand by the time he looked back, Allana was gone, no doubt vanished behind one of the powerful illusory veils her gift of stealth allowed her to make.

    Well, at least that was a little more like the Allana he knew. As jumpy and ready to scrap as an alleycat. It was odd to be pleased by such a thing.

    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll go see who that is,¡± Tenebres muttered dryly to himself.

    #

    The knocking continued as Tenebres moved down the hall of Geoffrey¡¯s manor, incessant and firm but still polite. By the time Tenebres reached the front hall, his gaze carefully avoided the bloodied and battered rooms to either side of the hall. He was fairly certain he knew who was knocking, but he called out nonetheless, ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Alleghy.¡±

    The healer¡¯s quavering voice, like brittle iron, was unmistakable. Silently, Allana reappeared behind Tenebres and nodded her head. The man was standing just to the side of the gaping doorway, his hand knocking politely on the door frame.

    Alleghy was a tall man, grown stooped in his middle age, with drooping features. He was a wraith as well, with a pair of horns curling over his bald, liver-spotted pate and eyes of solid, glossy black.

    The healer gave them a curt nod, but there was something soft in his normally professional, interrogatory gaze. ¡°May I?¡±

    Tenebres took a quick step back, gesturing to the workroom at the end of the hall. Alleghy didn¡¯t need to ask why the pair disdained both the late assassin¡¯s office and his lounge. He had seen what had become of them during Geoffrey¡¯s fight with Telik.

    They weren¡¯t even settled in the cluttered room before Allana was asking, ¡°Is Geoffrey¡­¡± She seemed unable to find the words to finish her question.

    Alleghy took her meaning without further details. ¡°Laid to rest, in a crypt he paid for himself, years ago. No one can disturb his body without provoking the ire of the Healer¡¯s Association, the Golden Council, and the Warden''s Office.¡±

    ¡°And Telik?¡± Tenebres asked.

    The healer snorted. ¡°I threw him in the fountain at Rainbow Square.¡±

    Both youths couldn¡¯t help a huff of dry laughter. They had, not so long ago, hunted a dangerous monster in the vicinity of the reeking neighborhood that the most offensively odorous of Lowrun¡¯s businesses had collected in. It was a fittingly disgusting place for the crimelord¡¯s corpse to be thrown¨Cand a public one at that.

    ¡°Word has already begun to spread,¡± Alleghy told them, answering the question neither had asked. ¡°My information network doesn¡¯t begin to compare to Geoffrey¡¯s, but even I can tell the city is already holding its breath. Given another day or two¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll mean war,¡± Allana mused, a small frown creasing her pert lips. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought about that in the moment.¡±

    Tenebres felt his brow furrow. ¡°I don¡¯t think I understand. War?¡±

    ¡°Telik was the most powerful crimelord in the city,¡± Allana explained, her tone thoughtful. ¡°None of his lieutenants can step into his shoes, and even this hag he was working with will have to tread carefully until she has a new partner as potent as he was.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s forgetting his legitimate connections,¡± Alleghy pointed out. ¡°Telik made his wealth as a fence to many of Highwalk¡¯s richest merchants, and had no small sway on the Golden Council.¡±

    ¡°Which means the goldshits will be sending feelers down here for a replacement too,¡± Allana groaned in realization. ¡°There¡¯ll be blood in the streets before the week is out. That will require a warden presence to crack down. And that means riots. Unrest. Tension between the upper and lower cities¡­¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Alleghy looked more strained, his face more lined, with each link in Allana¡¯s cascade of logic. ¡°I suspect Emeston is looking ahead to a long and bloody transitional phase in the coming months.¡±

    ¡°Which brings us back to our conversation from earlier,¡± Tenebres pressed. ¡°What¡¯s done is done. We need to figure out how to move forward.¡±

    ¡°My thoughts exactly,¡± Alleghy confessed. ¡°Might I know what you¡¯ve considered thus far?¡±

    Allana gave the healer a closer look, some suspicion creeping back into her gaze. ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±

    The old man offered a tired smile, too gentle to rightly be called a grin. ¡°Come now, Allana. Surely you must¡¯ve realized by now that I¡¯m not simply an old business partner of Geoffrey¡¯s.¡±

    Tenebres took a sharp breath. ¡°You¡¯re like him. The monster hunting part.¡±

    Allana looked at him sharply, then turned back to Alleghy, studying him more closely.

    The healer chuckled softly, lifting a long-fingered hand as if to gesture for a pause. ¡°No, nothing so great as that. I¡¯m not secretly a battle-gifted or something of that sort. But people like Geoffrey, they need help too. A¡­ mutual friend, let us say, introduced us several years back.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why he sent us to you, after the fight with Sloan,¡± Allana intuited.

    ¡°Indeed. Having a healer you can trust in a place like Lowrun¡­ I should think the value is obvious. But to put that aside, if you wouldn¡¯t mind, we were speaking of your plans from here.¡±

    ¡°We were,¡± Tenebres acknowledged. ¡°I think we had decided-¡±

    Allana cut him off. ¡°Don¡¯t waste your breath, Seo.¡±

    Tenebres arched an eyebrow at her, silently asking for an explanation. She gestured at Alleghy with her chin.

    ¡°He¡¯s got a plan for us. Don¡¯t you?¡±

    Alleghy¡¯s wrinkled brow climbed. ¡°Well. As sharp as Geoffrey claimed you to be, aren¡¯t you?¡± The healer patted the air in a calming motion. ¡°You make me sound so sinister. I have no hold over either of you. I would simply like to offer¡­ Let us call it a recommendation.¡±

    Tenebres looked to Allana for her thoughts. The wraith girl simply shrugged.

    Seeing no negative response forthcoming, Alleghy reaching into a fold of his robe to pull out a folded sheet of paper. Tenebres regarded the letter with as much suspicion as Allana while Alleghy folded it open.

    ¡°I mentioned that Geoffrey and I met by the intercession of a mutual friend. Though I was unaware of it, Geoffrey had apparently remained in contact with him for some time, informing him of the goings on in the city. In particular, he apparently spoke of you two in no small detail.¡±

    ¡°Us?¡± Allana asked. Judging from her tone, the words had burst out with little thought.

    ¡°Yes, you. I assume, based on the tone of this response, that he spoke of you quite flatteringly, at that.¡±

    A flutter of suspicion passed through Tenebres¡¯s mind, while Allana still seemed too struck by the idea of her mentor complimenting her to think out the implications. ¡°And how is it you came into possession of this response? It seems quite fortuitous timing.¡±

    ¡°Suspicious¡­¡± Alleghy noted to himself. Tenebres wondered if he was even aware of his constant commentary. ¡°But you would be, wouldn¡¯t you? The timing was at once fortunate and unfortunate. My friend himself came to my doors in the early hours of the morning, shortly after I laid Geoffrey to rest. He was mere hours too late to save your master¡¯s life.¡±

    The words provoked another immediate outburst from Allana. ¡°He was here!?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Was,¡± Tenebres noted. ¡°He arrived just hours ago, and he¡¯s gone already?¡±

    Alleghy sighed, the sound infinitely weary. ¡°He is.¡± Another hand, lifted slowly, forestalled any further outbursts. ¡°I won¡¯t pretend to understand, but apparently, Geoffrey¡¯s death changed things, somehow. My friend was forced to move in a way I suspect he did not want to.¡±

    ¡°You expect us to believe that?¡± Allana immediately shot at the man. The numb confusion that had defined her since the night before had vanished as quickly as the morning mist. Tenebres was relieved to see the girl¡¯s customary temper bubbling up, especially as he felt the same.

    ¡°I expect nothing of you,¡± Alleghy clarified, his tone sharp as a scalpel, reminding Tenebres more of how the healer had carried himself the first night they met, unbowed by his friend¡¯s death. ¡°Sebastian, my old friend, wrote this letter quickly, and bid me give it to you, as well as any assistance I could, as Geoffrey would¡¯ve, regardless of your decision.¡±

    ¡°Decision?¡± Tenebres echoed.

    ¡°See for yourself,¡± Alleghy told him, holding out the letter.

 Chapter 4 - Allana

    Allana couldn¡¯t help but notice the tremor in Tenebres¡¯s hand when he reached out to take the letter. Not that she could blame him¨Cshe felt herself tremble as well, though she doubted Tenebres could be as angry as she was in that moment.

    All her life, her path had been chosen for her. First by Telik, then by Geoffrey, and now by this mysterious Sebastian, this supposed friend of Geoffrey¡¯s who couldn¡¯t even stick around in the wake of the assassin¡¯s death. After the shock of the night before had begun to retreat, she had begun to look forward to the opportunity to choose her own way forward for once. But no. She couldn¡¯t have that, could she?

    ¡°¡®Allana and Tenebres,¡¯¡± her friend started to read. A flash of chagrined gratitude ran through her. As Tenebres was well aware, Allana¡¯s ability to read and write was feeble at best. She could muddle her way through most documents, but Tenebres reading the letter out loud saved both time and her pride. What was left of it, at least.

    Tenebres continued once Allana showed she was listening. ¡°¡®I am sorry that this letter is all I can leave you. While I strived to reach Emeston in time to save Geoffrey¡¯s life, my failure to do so has set in motion other events that I must see to. Despite this, I felt the need to give you what answers I could, in the hope that I may help you in taking your next steps forward. I have no doubt your master would¡¯ve revealed all of this before too much longer in any case, so please allow me to do so in his stead.¡¯¡±

    Tenebres paused, as if waiting for reaction. Allana limited her impatience to a huff and waved for him to continue, which he did with a shrug.

    ¡°¡®I am sure you know, by this point, that Geoffrey was more than a simple, if skilled, assassin. Geoffrey, like myself and the man who delivered this letter to you, are what most of the world would call ¡®adventurers.¡¯ For the sake of time, I will leave any further information in that vein to Alleghy. In addition to rendering any assistance he can, I have asked him to answer what questions he is able to. I will not presume to know what road you will both choose to walk from here, but in the case that you choose to continue in Geoffrey¡¯s footsteps, I will provide you the same information I was hoping to deliver to him.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± Allana muttered, as much to herself as anyone else. Tenebres and Alleghy both looked at her with varying amounts of skepticism, but when she didn¡¯t elaborate, Tenebres continued reading.

    ¡°¡®It is my understanding that in recent days you had been hunting the necromantic servants of a corpse hag. You may be surprised to learn that this is not the only account of unexpected undead in the heartlands. Mere days ago, I was made aware of a specter haunting the road between Correntry and Jellis. Should you be interested in finishing what you¡¯ve started, I would suggest you look into the fate of a small village called¡­¡¯¡±

    Tenebres trailed off.

    Allana arched an eyebrow, but he continued to stare at the letter, his crimson eyes wide with something Allana couldn¡¯t quite make out, some cocktail of shock and fear and anger and anxiety all blended together.

    ¡°Seo?¡± she asked, reaching for his hand. ¡°What is it?¡± His fingers were limp and cold in her grasp.

    ¡°It¡­ it says Culles.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The little village Sebastian is pointing us towards. It¡¯s my home. Culles.¡±

    #

    ¡°C¡¯mon Seo¡­¡± Allana spoke softly, gently, as one would to a startled animal. ¡°Sit down here, there you go¡­¡±

    In the back of her mind, she recognized that this was just how Tenebres had spoken to her the night before. The contents of the letter had shaken Tenebres so deeply that they had traded places.

    At a loss for what else to do, she had emulated his steps, leading Tenebres up to the darkened bedroom they had spent the previous night in, leaving both Alleghy and his Rogue-cursed letter downstairs.

    The boy, slender at the best of times, looked positively fragile as he sat on the edge of the bed, his feet not quite reaching the floor. When he spoke, his voice was hollow, lost. The same way she had probably sounded, not so long ago.

    ¡°I always wondered¡­¡± he told her. ¡°I wondered what happened after we left Culles.¡±

    Allana knew at least some of the story, after she and Geoffrey had pried it free months before. Tenebres had been raised in the village of Culles, a failing village in the heartlands, until a monster attack had crippled it. In the aftermath, as Tenebres told it, a charismatic man had come through, offering sanctuary to anyone who¡¯d follow him. That man, Kellen, ended up being a cult leader, and Tenebres had spent the next few years living in the subterranean cave system that Kellen and his men had turned into a commune.

    Tenebres¡¯s freedom from that cult was more an accident than anything else. A sacrifice gone wrong had somehow given him a gift even Geoffrey had never heard of, which the boy had then used to kill the entire cult that had tried to kill him. Afterwards, as far as Allana knew, Tenebres joined a merchant caravan en route to Emeston, setting him on the road to meeting Allana and Geoffrey.

    She had never thought to ask why Tenebres hadn¡¯t returned to Culles, and she wondered if he had ever even actively considered it. By his reaction, maybe not. Not until this letter had forced him to.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to go back,¡± Tenebres said. Allana knew he was talking as much to himself as her, and stayed quiet as she sat beside him, gently stroking a hand along his forearm, feeling the shape of the bandages wound under his long black gloves. ¡°I knew if I did, by myself, there would be questions. I¡¯d have to tell them what happened, and how I got free¡­ I couldn¡¯t do it. I ran away instead.¡±

    ¡°You wanted to find answers,¡± Allana reminded him. ¡°You came here to figure out what the gift of the void was, and how to control it.¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Tenebres acknowledged miserably, tears staining his cheeks. ¡°But I was running away too. I needed to go somewhere nothing would remind me of home. Of either of my homes.¡±

    ¡°So then we won¡¯t go back,¡± Allana told him firmly. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to listen to this Sebastian guy. No reason to trust him. We can stay here, track down that hag that was working with Telik.¡±

    ¡°Aggleta,¡± Tenebres said softly. ¡°That was what Telik called her.¡±

    Of course he had remembered. Allana never ceased to be amazed by just how quickly her friend¡¯s mind worked, to remember a name mentioned off-hand during the confrontation with Telik.

    ¡°We can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Allana asked. Surprise made her sit up straight, pulling away from Tenebres.

    He looked at her, his own eyes as surprised as hers. ¡°Lana¡­ we can¡¯t beat a hag.¡± He said it as if it was obvious, as if he was saying the sky was blue (or gray, more likely). ¡°We barely beat Telik, and that was only because he was so self-absorbed he might as well have been blind!¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Allana frowned at the tone of the response. ¡°Well¡­ yeah, but we could sneak up on her¨C¡±

    ¡°Sneak up? On the hag whose partner we JUST killed? The one who has Rogue only knows how many thralls who weren¡¯t as lucky as us? No, we would get killed, at best, if we went for her now.¡±

    Allana was speechless, her eyes wide as she stared at Tenebres, unable to believe what he was saying. ¡°Wh-I thought you¡­ I just¡­what?¡± she spluttered impotently, grasping for some way to respond to the boy¡¯s straight-forward claim. This wasn¡¯t how she pictured this conversation going.

    Tenebres¡¯s smile at her confusion was still tinted by the tears in the corner of his eyes, but it was still genuinely there. ¡°We should leave the city,¡± he told her.

    ¡°To Culles?¡±

    Tenebres still seemed troubled by the thought¨Cbut he nodded anyway. ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t want to go back but¡­ I think we should. We know it¡¯s important, and maybe we can do something there that has a slightly lower chance of getting us killed or enslaved.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Allana bit her bottom lip. She had come a long way in her time with Tenebres, she knew that. She wasn¡¯t the sullen girl she was when she met Geoffrey, reluctant to share even the smallest detail about herself in case it would be used against her. But some things were still hard to talk about. Leaving Emeston itself¡­ ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    Tenebres seemed to buy her attempt at redirecting her fears back at him. ¡°I am.¡± His voice was still a little weak, but he met her eyes as he said it. ¡°You said yourself that Emeston is going to be a bad place to be for a while. It¡¯ll be good for us to get out of here before everything goes to hell.¡±

    Allana shifted away, knowing Tenebres would pick up on her anxiety but desperate to hide it anyways. ¡°I just¡­ if¡­ if you say so?¡±

    Tenebres cocked his head at her, worry starting to overwhelm anxiety on his face. ¡°Lana? Are you okay? I¡¯m not like¡­ I don¡¯t want to force anything. It just seems right to me.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I guess you¡¯re right.¡± Allana¡¯s cheeks heated up, and she hurriedly looked away. Her mouth was dry, throat closing up. The thought of stepping foot outside the city¡­

    Tenebres waited for a baffled moment, and Allana knew he had seen her flush when she heard the laughter dancing in his voice. ¡°Okay¡­ Okay then, let¡¯s go. We¡¯ve left Alleghy waiting long enough.¡±

    Allana nodded, trying to regain her balance, trying not to think of the shockingly large amount of anxiety that the thought of leaving Emeston sparked in her.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± A thought crossed her mind, and a notification appeared before her eyes. A gift offer she had been pushing away in all the chaos.

    Her voice got firmer as she accepted where things were going from here. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go. I have some questions for Alleghy.¡±

    #

    ¡°We¡¯re going to do it,¡± Allana told Alleghy as they entered the workroom.

    The healer turned from the massive map of Lowrun that Geoffrey had spread across one wall, arching a drooping brow at them as they entered. ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Tenebres¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t quite as bold as Allana¡¯s, still shell-shocked as he was, but he stood next to Allana and faced the healer.

    ¡°Excellent. Then I believe¨C¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Allana interrupted him. ¡°It¡¯s still our turn. I have some questions for you.¡±

    Alleghy¡¯s face remained impassive, but Allana thought she noticed something belligerent enter his posture. The thought made a smirk dance across her face. The healer had seemed so impassive throughout the morning, it almost felt like an accomplishment to wear through his patience.

    ¡°Ask then,¡± Alleghy told her.

    ¡°First,¡± Allana picked up the abandoned letter as she spoke, ¡°tell us what you know about this ¡®Sebastian Freehold¡¯ person.¡±

    ¡°In that, I fear I will need to disappoint you. I know he has a Rogue gift, and that he was a high level and extremely capable battle-gifted. I know he knew Geoffrey before I did, and that they had a level of mutual respect. I met Sebastian years before, when he was trying to break a fetter ring, and he introduced me to Geoffrey in the aftermath, and inducted me to his network.¡±

    ¡°His network of adventurers?¡± Tenebres asked, his voice deeply skeptical. Everyone knew stories about adventurers¨Cbut everyone also knew they were just that. Fun little tales of heroes slaying dragons and bargaining with elves and saving princesses.

    Allana huffed. ¡°Oh yeah. Walked right out of a storybook, these guys.¡±

    ¡°I was never sure if the stories birthed the reality or the other way around, but yes.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm, sure. Next are you going to reveal you¡¯re actually an elf?

    Alleghy gave Allana a flat look. ¡°Is this a time for sarcasm?¡±

    Allana blushed in embarrassment at the man¡¯s incredulous tone. ¡°You tell me. You¡¯re the one trying to act like my dead mentor was some sort of storybook hero!¡±

    Alleghy blinked. Slowly. ¡°Mmm. A refined gentleman master assassin, a kind soul who only killed those who deserved it, who pulled you from the streets and gave you training, confidence, and freedom.¡±

    Tenebres huffed a dry little laugh. ¡°He sort of has a point, Lana.¡±

    Allana whirled on him. ¡°Not you too?¡±

    Tenebres shrugged. ¡°Remember the first time you told me anything? Before we went after the chandler? I said the same thing¨Cit sounded like something out of an overwrought ring novel.¡±

    Allana narrowed her eyes at him, remembering his reaction months earlier. He had merely teased her for it then, but she had to admit¡­ he wasn¡¯t wrong. It was all a little dramatic.

    Allana turned back to Alleghy. ¡°So what? Geoffrey and this Sebastian were actually adventurers? Like from a children¡¯s story?¡±

    Alleghy shrugged, the motion vague under his voluminous gray robes. ¡°Perhaps. I never fully understood it myself, but I know Sebastian and his whole network were firm believers in the power of those stories.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why he took the jobs he did,¡± Tenebres mused out loud. ¡°Monsters and forbidden gifted. The only kind of adventurer Emeston could tolerate was an assassin.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps so,¡± Alleghy agreed. ¡°I know more of the adventurers than most¨Cbut I still only have a peripheral understanding. I supported them, but I am no battle-gifted. My exposure to their network was limited.¡±

    Allana nodded along, frowning¨Cbut she was thoughtful. As absurd as Alleghy¡¯s claims were, Tenebres seemed to be taking them seriously. And she couldn¡¯t deny that there was some sense to what they were saying¡­

    ¡°Okay,¡± Allana said, ¡°let¡¯s say I believe you, just so we can move forward. I have another question.¡±

    Alleghy frowned, the expression making his drooping face wrinkle even more deeply, but he nodded for her to continue.

    Allana felt the notification she had been actively trying to push aside force its way forward in her perceptions again, as it had done multiple times since she had killed Telik.

    Until that morning, when she had finally resigned herself to reading the message, Allana had expected it to inform her that the death of the crimelord had earned her the gift of the assassin, the same gift both Telik and Geoffrey had been guiding her towards - and a gift representing a life she was no longer sure she wanted to live.

    Of course, when that turned out to not be the case, it hadn¡¯t even been the most surprising thing about the notification.

    In defeating a superior foe through cunning and guile, you have accomplished a feat of the Rogue. In recognition, the Rogue has offered you the [Gift of the Trickster].

    You cannot accept a third gift at this time. Reach Initiate with both of your gifts to open up your third gift slot.

    Ensouled [Gift of Stealth] is compatible with the [Gift of the Trickster].

    The Rogue has offered gift transmutation.

    Do you accept?

    Yes/No

    Once accepted, gifts can never be relinquished.

    ¡°What can you tell me about gift transmutation?¡±

 Chapter 5 - Across the Heartlands

    Lysander Gerrot paced restlessly in the council chamber.

    He wasn¡¯t alone, of course. His rival, his subjects, every figure of any real standing in Elliven, were gathered in the grand hall. Most were nobles, the leaders of the various houses that had risen within Elliven since its founding. One of the few who wasn¡¯t was the first to break the silence surrounding Lysander¡¯s stride.

    ¡°We must assume something¡¯s changed in the Waste for the abomination to spawn.¡±

    The speaker was Lady Tillibel, Knight-Triumphant of the Emerald Order. Lysander had to smooth a snarl from his face. Though in the past she had been a beauty and a force, the old warhorse was now nothing more than a failure. An Expert who had never made it to Master, now so aged that she rarely took to the field herself anymore. Lysander was still sure her assignment to Elliven had been a calculated insult, but that didn¡¯t change her title or her importance.

    She may not have been noble, or in the running for the ducal throne, but she was one of the most respected individuals in the city thanks to the foolish commonborn sentinels, who still worshiped her for her past achievements. What difference did her role in the Painlord conflict make now?

    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± Lysander countered, refusing to cede ground to the supposedly neutral knight. ¡°We do not know the nature of the abomination¨Cwe have the loss of a single cadre and the account of a single girl¨Cand even she¡¯s not sure what it was she saw.¡±

    ¡°It was an outsider capable of killing my son and his entire team, Gerrot,¡± Merrick Argias shouted. He lumbered to his feet, his anger obvious. ¡°The Arboreal Wastes rarely produce even a moderate monster, yet an experienced cadre of Initiates was killed before they could fight or flee. Clearly, something has changed!¡±

    Lysander glared at Merrick, not bothering to disguise his distaste the way he had for Tillibel. The mountainous northerner, a former captain in the Terasian Legion, did not comport himself the way the high-blood should. His hair and beard alike were grown long and curly, and even in the comfort of the council chamber, the man held himself rigidly, as if ready to demonstrate the strength that had made him Lysander¡¯s closest rival for the ducal throne.

    ¡°Supposedly, perhaps,¡± Arthur Dennan cut in. Lysander smirked to himself. That whimpering goblin had continued to prove himself a capable tool since he had been¡­ chastised. ¡°This unseen abomination, the claim of null magic, the lone survivor¡¯s common blood¡­ if you ask me, there¡¯s a much simpler explanation. Your son fell victim to a gnoll ambush of some kind, he helped his consort escape, and she came up with this fanciful tale to make his death more meaningful.¡±

    Merrick rolled to feet, turning on Arthur, menace obvious on his face.

    The difference between the Expert soldier and the slender patriarch of House Dennan couldn¡¯t have been more stark, but Arthur didn¡¯t move from his casual lounging.

    ¡°Enough, Merrick!¡± Lysander snapped. ¡°Your anger benefits no one!¡±

    Now the Tersian turned on Lysander. His meaty paws made impotent grasping gestures at his sides, and Lysander knew that his rival was itching to conjure his earthen weaponry. Lysander¡¯s own hand drifted down to the rapier at his side, and he met the veteran soldier¡¯s glare with a challenging look of his own.

    ¡°That will be enough from all three of you!¡± Tillibel¡¯s interruption came as if Lysander had scripted it.

    He arched an eyebrow, an expression of perfectly calculated insolence, but Merrick had finally learned his lesson and got his temper under control, turning away to grumble to himself.

    A pity. The man was a capable enough sentinel, but he simply wasn¡¯t up to playing the political game at the same level as Lysander. In Terast, or the Sisters, that sort of attitude might¡¯ve carried him far, but this was Elliven. Merrick¡¯s physical strength didn¡¯t matter, not here. Lysander never needed to equal him, not so long as he controlled the Court.

    ¡°I appreciate the intervention, Lady Emerald.¡±

    Tillibel¡¯s narrowed gaze made clear that she saw through his games. That didn¡¯t matter either. The Knight-Triumphant had made very clear that she was keeping herself politically neutral, willing to work with the Court as it stood as well as whoever ended up earning the ducal throne in the future.

    Not that Lysander would claim the title any time soon. As things currently stood, Lysander held as much power from his position in the High Court as any Duke, with none of the obligations that the title would bring with it. Perhaps, once he had fully consolidated his power, it would be worth claiming that role, but only once Allid was ready to take his seat as head of the house. By then Tillibel would certainly be retired, and it would be easy enough to ensure Merrick had fallen from grace¡­

    ¡°Fine then. Tell us, Lady Emerald,¡± Lysander asked the leader of Elliven¡¯s knights, ¡°how goes the hunt for this new threat?¡±

    Tillibel¡¯s face puckered as if she had taken a bite from a lemon. The expression seemed to come naturally to the aged woman. ¡°Poorly, as you well know. The abomination¨C¡±

    ¡°The alleged threat,¡± Lysander corrected her smoothly. ¡°There is still no evidence of Sentinel Callianne¡¯s claims.¡±

    A twitch she barely suppressed. Another victory. ¡°The threat seems to have an ability to navigate the distortion trails that our gifted lack. Yet another reason I believe the King should be notified, so that appropriate resources can be dedicated-¡±

    Lysander¡¯s smooth baritone effortlessly overrode the old woman¡¯s protests. ¡°Lady Emerald, as you know, the Court has decided that until the true nature of the claims are understood, there is no need to bring in outside help nor to spread unnecessary alarm.¡±

    ¡°And as you know, I disagree!¡±

    Lysander hoped his smirk was as infuriating as he could make it. ¡°I understand that, however-¡±

    Another voice interrupted him, rolling over his own cultured tones as easily as he had taken dominance of the conversation from Tillibel. ¡°In fact, I happen to agree with the Knight-Triumphant. As does His Majesty.¡±

    Lysander spun on the voice, looking for whoever had dared to speak over him in his Court. The man in question was unfamiliar, a tall and ragged sentinel with bright blue eyes. He was reclined back in a seat, his mud-caked boots propped up on the broad council table. Who was he? How long had he been here? How had he gotten in? Why had no one noticed him?

    Lysander was not used to being caught speechless, but something about this stranger rattled him. He only managed one of his many questions, in a tone far more indignant than he would¡¯ve preferred. ¡°And who, exactly, are you?¡±

    The man smiled. ¡°Sir Toren Cifel, Knight-Gallant of the Argent Order.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    #

    Adeline strode into Farris¡¯s training room without bothering to knock. Inside, the warden was hard at work, laid back on a bench and slowly, steadily, lifting a massive bar weighted on both ends with iron rings. She had discarded her tunic, leaving her clad waist-up only in a tight chest wrap and leaving the tense, well-defined muscles of her shoulders and abs bare. Her brand, an open-hand engraved with a snowflake and surrounded by a winding pattern of thorny vines, originated on her right shoulder but spread across her chest and collarbone.

    Adeline paused, closing the door behind her and resting against it, and took a moment to marvel at the warden¡¯s powerful build. Her transition had done little to soften her musculature despite the lunar connotation it carried, something Farris had assured Adeline was purposeful. Looking at her corded muscles now, sheened with sweat, Adeline couldn¡¯t help but agree with the decision.

    Farris didn¡¯t acknowledge Adeline¡¯s presence for upwards of ten minutes, until she had finished a set of lifts long enough to demonstrate the effectiveness of her well-cultivated stamina and strength attributes.

    Finally, with a grunt of effort, the warden threw the weight bar aside and sat up, taking a moment to stretch. She didn¡¯t even look at Adeline when she asked, ¡°Did you come to see me for a reason? Or are you just here to leer?¡±

    The question had a little heat behind it, a subtle invitation only someone who had been intimate with the warden could notice. Tempted as she was, Adeline shook her head.

    ¡°The leering was just a side benefit. I got orders, straight from the Knight-Radiant in Arsilet.¡± Adeline held up a letter, the folded parchment slipped between two of her fingers.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Farris grabbed a rag from one side of the bench, using it to mop up some of the sweat she had accumulated. ¡°I thought you silver knights were the wandering type. Going where you will, as you please, righting wrongs and all that. Didn¡¯t think you had orders.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not common,¡± Adeline acknowledged. ¡°The last time I got orders was when the Allvany wardens needed help facing down those cyclopes a few years back.¡±

    Farris grunted. ¡°The fury hag?¡±

    When the pair returned to Correntry, just a week before, the first thing they had done was seek out a sentinel scholar, who had identified a single type of hag capable of utilizing wild magic. So-called fury hags were rare, as they seemed to need to steal their power from a true Feral World outsider, like a troll.

    ¡°Nope. They¡¯re sending someone else for that.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Taking you off the job?¡±

    ¡°Not quite.¡± Adeline finally pushed off the door to cross the training room. She offered the letter to Farris before continuing to the cool pitcher of water sitting on a table to the side of the room.

    As Adeline poured the water, giving Farris the chance to read the letter, her attention wandered to the wide, open window set into the far wall of the room. A small breeze slipped through, and Adeline found herself smiling.

    ¡°Everbright, huh?¡±

    Adeline returned to the weight bench, offering Farris a glass of water. ¡°Yep. Kenton Everbright, Knight-Errant, being sent down with his whole cadre from the Lunar Wastes. And he¡¯s not the only one coming down from Arsilet.¡±

    At Adeline¡¯s words, Farris turned back to the letter, her brows quickly climbing towards her head. ¡°A cadre being sent to Emeston¡­ a full contingent of alchemists from the Apothic Order to Valley Hearth¡­  and the Mendicant themself!¡±

    ¡°By royal decree,¡± Adeline pointed out.

    ¡°So the King finally took notice of everything going on down here¡­ Where does that leave us?¡±

    Adeline took the letter back from her friend. ¡°Doing just what we wanted to in the first place. I¡¯ve been asked to head down to Jellis to catch up with our wayward proteges. I want you to come with me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a knight,¡± Farris reminded her. ¡°I¡¯ll have to check with the office.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll support it,¡± Adeline reassured her. ¡°The letter calls you out by name.¡±

    ¡°The Knight-Radiant of the Argent Order knows my name?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve encountered very few things my commander doesn¡¯t know about,¡± Adeline observed dryly. ¡°Best of all, the official directive means I can tap into the Argent Order¡¯s coffers. We¡¯ll get a rune carriage, make our way down fast.¡±

    Farris all but jumped to her feet, pausing only to grab her tunic. ¡°When do you want to go, then?¡±

    ¡°As soon as you¡¯re ready. You go to the office and get the go ahead, I¡¯ll head over to the caravansery. Meet me there and we¡¯ll go.¡±

    Farris looked at her, obviously surprised. ¡°Really? That soon?¡±

    Adeline lifted the letter again. ¡°You weren¡¯t the only one named in this letter, Farris. If the Knight-Radiant knows who our students are, where they are, what they¡¯re doing, and thinks they need help¡­¡±

    ¡°Things can¡¯t be going well for them.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Farris was out the door within moments.

    Adeline paused to finish the clear, cool water in her glass. Her gaze drifted back to the window even as a small breeze tugged on her long, golden hair.

    ¡°Please be okay, Oli,¡± she pleaded, her whisper carried away on the wind.

    #

    Aton rode, uncomfortably, in the back of a bouncing, jostling wagon, and wondered if he did the right thing.

    For Ariana Aliavnes, born in the Realm¡¯s capital of Arsilet, her pure blood should¡¯ve meant that any door she would have wanted would be open for her. While centuries of courage in the Wastes had expanded the noble class far beyond the goldbloods who founded Arsilet, blood still meant more than it should¡¯ve in the Golden Bastion.

    But when Ariana had decided she was he, and tried to take the name Aton, his family had responded¡­ poorly. No blemish could be allowed to tarnish the resplendent golden bloodlines, and when he had stood by his new identity, Aton had been lucky to make it out of Arsilet alive.

    His skills as a swordsman, bred and trained into him since he could hold a weapon, had served him well on the road, and he had drifted from one village to another, unafraid to take what he wanted from those unable to defend themselves against the skill of a goldblooded exile. The Outlaw, the archetype that catered to those who prized their own welfare first and foremost, had quickly beckoned to Aton, and he had found the gift of the bandit to be a refreshingly blunt accompaniment to his gift of the fencer, won before he had fled Ariana¡¯s family.

    Once he found Egin¡¯s band haunting the Flax Road, it had been easy enough to win his way up the ranks and become a leader in the little bandit clan, second only to the impossible animalistic powers of Egin himself.

    But still, much of being a bandit had rubbed Aton the wrong way. Not least of all due to his forced subservience to both Egin and the distant, mysterious benefactors he claimed to work for. Taking orders came easily to no goldblood.

    More than that, however, Aton had been troubled by the questions Egin refused to answer. Why were they being paid to attack weak merchant caravans? How did they control the immaterial undead Egin¡¯s enigmatic patron had supplied? How was the bandit chief able to use two totem gifts, giving him both avian and feline abilities, when that was a well-known impossibility? Who were Xythen, and Kellen, and Alamar, the men Egin so often exchanged letters with?

    Aton had already decided to take his leave of the band when he had joined in the attack on Hugo¡¯s caravan, expecting to take one last haul before he fled for brighter pastures, only to be thoroughly defeated. For the first time since he had left Arsilet, Aton found his much-vaunted skills insufficient to defeat his enemy, overwhelmed in short order by a blur of skinny limbs and blue hair and a blade of black glass.

    In the aftermath, once the clan had been repelled and that cowardly bastard Egin had fled, Aton had found himself forced to talk with another of the battle-gifted, and was shocked to have fought another noble in exile¨Canother eclipsed cast out by their family. In the end, it was as much that shocking connection as his anger at being abandoned and his earlier misgivings that had caused Aton to turn on Egin¡¯s band, telling the two young gifted what they needed to know to find the clan before they could flee and get reinforcements from one of those other bands Egin was in contact with.

    It hadn¡¯t been enough to earn clemency, though. Despite his efforts to help them, the scrawny blue-haired celestial and the former noble had left Aton bound and thrown in a wagon heading for the nearby town of Jellis, watched by yet another teenager who was more concerned for her injured friend than her prisoner¡¯s comfort.

    Not that her distraction had given Aton the chance to flee. Not yet.

    But, as the exiled noble watched out the back of the wagon, catching sight for the third time that day of movement in the thick underbrush to the wagon¡¯s side, he felt it was, just maybe, possible that his luck was turning around.

    He just had to be ready to take his chance when it came.