Ar'Kendrithyst

The next morning, Erick strolled toward the Adventurer’s District, but couldn’t get within four blocks without hitting walking traffic. He scuffled though a thin road with a bakery and a dozen people pushing to buy bread. He bypassed an alchemist's shop with too many customers, taking a side street through a more open neighborhood, but even that road was crowded. It was only after he passed a large building with lightwards proclaiming it the ‘Wayfarer’s Guild’, that the crowd seemed to thin, like he had passed a bottleneck. That made sense, since the ‘Wayfarer’s Guild’ controlled the only sanctioned [Teleport] services in the city; he would need to avoid this path tomorrow.

It was hard to imagine people teleporting in every morning, but there was a clear dearth in crowd density after he passed the Wayfarer’s Guildhouse, and all of the people nearby shared one characteristic: They were all young; smaller than normal incani, short orcols, short dragonkin. All of them were barely into their 20s, or still in their teens? Hard to say, except that they were obviously young, both in stature and in cheerful exuberance, or restrained ‘above it all’-ness; Erick had certainly seen enough of that last one to know what it looked like, no matter the species. There were no wrought that weren’t full sized adults, but who could guess at a wrought's actual age? Certainly not Erick.

Erick turned to Poi after they passed the bottleneck. “Why do so many young people [Teleport] into the city every day? Or is this just today?”

“Spending the night in Spur is considered a great risk.”

Erick frowned at the dragonkin. “Really?”

“You’ve been here for a while… Do you not agree?”

Erick quickly decided that, yes, it was dangerous to spend the night in Spur.

Had he really been this blind before last night? Before he decided to [Withering] the land of mimics? Before he invented [Call Lightning] and before he fought off those wolves with Jane, and then the shadowcats? Before the local incani declared him ‘planar’?

… Looking back, he had been blind for a lot of that, actually. Jane had been in danger everywhere she went, and so had he. He had been blind for a long time. He wanted to believe the best in people, and almost everyone around him had proven him right. But Spur was not just a city of adventurers, it was smack dab in the middle of countless, unending monsters.

Erick said, “Life here is exceptionally dangerous. But if you can handle it, you grow up fast. Or at least learn some nice life lessons.”

Poi smiled, then schooled his expression away. He nodded.

“Has there been a response from the Dead City about yesterday’s mimic culling?”

Poi shook his head. “Not a peep, sir.”

Erick nodded, then looked up. They had arrived at the Adventurer’s District, and it had changed.

People, everywhere, easily double the expanded crowds at the Farmer’s Market, but the roads were more than wide enough to handle the new traffic. Fresh coats of [Special Ward] had turned the stone of the district into every color of the rainbow, with the most prevalent colors being lighter yellows and rust reds. By far the biggest change were four huge trees that had been [Grow]n at the corners of the Guildhouse’s central property. The new trees towered fifteen stories tall with perfectly straight 8 foot wide trunks, and wide, tangling canopies. They were majestic, they were beautiful, and as Erick looked up, he saw a harpy fall and take flight from the nearest tree.

“Oh thank god.” Erick looked up at the rest of the trees, and saw more people. “Those look like such a security risk, but if people are actually using them… that’s okay.”

Poi said, “Many peoples are partial to trees. Despite the risk, these trees are going to stay.”

Erick navigated the crowds to step across the threshold from street to Guildhouse property, passing through an environmental [Ward] of some kind, into a whole new part of the city. Like stepping into a northern forest, the air was cool and a little damp, the sky covered by a gently shifting canopy, dappling the grass and flowers with sunlight. Ahead, the massive doors to the guildhouse stood wide open, people already streaming in and out, going about their business.

Jane came here every day, but Erick hadn’t been here in a month. The place had changed from a run down high-society wilderness log-warehouse, into a bustling, occupied, high-society wilderness log-mansion, hotel, and training ground. People walked in and out of the main building, almost all of them heavily armored and in groups. A few were loners. Some of them looked over slips of paper, then turned to walk a different direction.

A brownscale beside the nearest tree spoke out, his voice carrying on the air to the whole guildhouse, “[Teleport] service to the northern entrance to the Underworld will be departing in thirty minutes. Please report to the North West Tree for departure. This is the only announcement; the caravan is already departing.”

Brownscale was already surrounded by several people, but at his announcement, more people started coming out of the guildhouse to walk his way. He organized seven of the nearest people into linking hands with him. They vanished in [Teleport] blip.

Erick said, “That’s a lot of mana. And trust.”

“Fork is a well known Wayfarer,” Mog said.

Erick turned to see Mog standing beside him. She looked much the same as the last time he had seen the orcol; massive, muscular, with short black hair and bright eyes. Smiling wide, she said, “He’s not quite as much of a rising star as you, but he’s a fixture in Spur. Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild, Archmage Flatt.”

A few people had noticed him by now, standing to the side of the path. With the guildmaster at his side, those casual glances became gazes of recognition.

Erick said, “Hello, Guildmaster Mog.”

“Please, call me Mog. I respect those who are able to step out of the wars of this world.” She added, “A casual relationship would also go a long way to letting others know that we disapprove of the Quiet War.”

Erick smiled. “I’d prefer Erick, too, but I think you already know that and you’re teasing me.”

“Erick,” Mog giggled. The large, strong woman actually giggled, and Erick found her incredibly endearing. She asked, “Monthly lessons start today; did you come to try your hand at the adventuring lifestyle? Perhaps get an adventurer badge, to go with the mage one around your neck?”

A bit of mirth left Erick, but he tried to hold on to that good feeling. He said, “I’m here to get my ass kicked in the training ring, or whatever it is you do. Jane doesn’t really tell me these things after a lifetime of me asking not to know; I’d love to be a pacifist, but I’m learning that monsters deserve no mercy.”

Mog’s eyes brightened, almost glowing in the sunlight. Her pale green face turned a shade darker, before she turned toward the guildhouse, and said, “Monsters deserve no mercy, this is true.” She added, “I heard what you did around the farms yesterday; [Withering] is fantastic.” She turned to him, smirking. “My kids are already complaining: ‘Why’d he have to kill the close ones?’ ‘Those were our kills!’. It’s all quite funny. I think you should go around the entirety of Spur, next, not just the farms.”

Erick paled.

Slowly, he said, “[Withering] works against monsters… But… It’ll affect anyone with a rad inside.”

A breeze blew. Mog studied Erick.

She said, “I’ll make sure people know.”

“Thank you.”

Mog stared outward.

She spoke, “Every powerful mage I have ever known has a story where they made a mistake and accidentally killed someone with a monster-only spell, or threw a fireball too close to the front lines. But if I was surrounded by monsters and you were there to help, I would expect you to trust me enough to cast the spell anyway, and know that I have [Ward], and my own healing spells.”

Erick felt a sudden rush of both relief and… something nicer.

He said, “Thank you. For that.”

“What [Ward] is used against [Withering], anyway?”

“Weather, I think. I intended it that way, but I haven’t actually tested the spell against a [Ward].”

She harrumphed, then said, “It’s good to worry, but too much thinking has killed almost as many rookies as too little. Spur is an adventuring town, long known to the rest of civilization as a dangerous place, and recently propped back on to the world stage because of your new magic. People coming here know to expect the unexpected.” Mog smiled, adding, “And almost all of my rookies are either working on [Ward] right now, or adventuring with someone they trust who already has it. Don’t fill your head with the wrong sorts of worries. There’s plenty enough to concern yourself with already.”

“You’re quite right.”

“Of course I am!” She laughed. “I wouldn’t be the guildmaster if I was wrong all the time. Let’s get you to those classes.”

- - - -

Erick felt vastly out of place. His feeling was not just a feeling, either; it was reality. He was out of place. If it were possible, he should have gone through these classes at 17, not 48. Everyone else around him was 17 or 18, though there were a few 20-somethings in the lineup on his side of the sandy, open aired gym. No wroughts, though. Just dragonkin, incani, and orcols. On the other side were two 30-somethings, one an incani man named Draz who was every part a drill instructor, and a silent bluescale woman who stayed by the wall.

Everyone was wearing normal clothes, all looking of roughly the same worth, though there were a few people with expensive embroidery or shiny leather boots and gauntlets. A few of his fellow students looked his way, then quickly averted their eyes when he caught them staring. A few others openly wondered at the identity of ‘the old human’; those ones were quickly smacked by their conversational partner, and quietly informed about the ‘old human with the Silver Star’.

Draz shouted, “Attention, Rookies! You have cleared your own nations or citystates’ rules to become a proper adventurer! You have journeyed far from home, seeking fortune in the Crystal Forest, where our monsters are plentiful and Ar’Kendrithyst is full of fortune waiting to be seized out from under the eyes of the Shades. But you fucked up! You didn’t know the basic rules of adventuring in the Forest, or in the Dead City!—”

Erick had an ‘oh shit’ moment, as he realized he never read Spur’s Rules of Adventuring anywhere.

“Luckily, you were caught before you became a problem! You were caught before someone died! Now, your ability to take missions has been revoked, because YOU WILL KILL SOMEONE IF YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE YOU ARE!”

Draz took a breath, then calmly said, “We’re starting from the bottom.” He flicked a finger up, and a tiny white orb with the number ‘5’ appeared in front of Erick. “Find your partner. We’re doing Stances.”

People groaned.

“And if I hear another complaint, another groan, a murmur of insubordination, you fail this class, and you have to wait till next month to try for recertification.”

Erick was in the right class; this was where Mog put him. Recertification must also mean entry-level.

A few people grabbed the orbs in front of them; the orbs were solid light. Must be a special type of [Special Ward]. Erick grabbed his number 5-white, and rather instantly found his partner. Erick knew his partner, because she was the girl who had cast [Force Shrapnel] at his face and then got her legs ripped out from under her by shadowolves. She did not look happy, holding onto her own 5-white orb.

“Zimmy Saker, right?” Erick asked.

She whispered something.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch—”

“I’M SORRY.”

A few people looked their way, but quickly returned to their own pursuits.

Erick said, “I accept your apology.” He looked around. People were still finding their partners. “What happens now?”

Zimmy muttered, “They put us in … and … … then … …”

“Sorry? Didn’t catch—”

“We stance at each other and then more stuff.”

“… I know what I mean when I hear ‘stance’, but what do you mean?”

She didn’t get to answer, because Draz shouted, “You’ve found your partner. Separate with your partner, away from every other group. Fill the room. Go go.”

Erick followed Zimmy across the room to a middle ground.

Draz called out, “A mimic is attacking. What do you do?”

The paired people around the room moved, and all Erick could do was watch.

Some pairs popped [Ward]s. Others popped armor and weapons. Several popped lights in their arms, or in the air. Erick did nothing. He was lost. Zimmy was not; she popped on armor, likely using [Conjure Armor]. Her armor was proper fantasy armor, too, with horned skulls over her shoulders and elsewhere, and with a helmet that covered most of her face but let her large violet horns protrude from two holes in the top; Erick approved.

Draz turned to Erick, one of the few people who had done nothing. He stared at Erick for a long half-second, then turned to face a young greenscale who had also done nothing.

Draz spoke at the girl. “The mimic has now gored you to death.”

“With all due respect, sir, I am ready exactly like this.”

He yelled, “I didn’t ask if you were fucking ready! I asked for a stance! An actual response! Now display something!”

“… I don’t have [Prestidigitation], sir.”

“Cast a [Special Ward].”

“… I don’t have the mana to do lightwards like Stancing would require, sir.”

“What DO you have?”

“High damaging area spells, sir.”

“Congratulations, you are now gored to death by a mimic.” Draz spoke to the room, “Stancing is about quick thinking and displayed response. This is basic, this is level 0. This is one week after Matriculation. Now, everyone: Stance with your partner and don’t lie; you’re only doing yourself a disservice.”

The other groups started talking amongst themselves, one saying something and the other responding in a small way.

Zimmy said, “I stab you in your neck,” as she conjured a small dagger and shook it back and forth.

Roughly brought back to the moment, Erick could only respond with a delayed, “… What?”

Zimmy frowned. She sighed. “I say a thing, prove that I have the capability, and you try to counter it by proving your own capability. It’s a mind game. You can only use an ability once, unless you can use it multiple ways.”

“Oh?” Erick smiled. He had gotten most of that from observation, but the actual rules made it sound fun. He blipped on [Flight of a Thousand Hands Aura], keeping the hands close to his body. “I pick you up and set you aside.”

Zimmy’s frown deepened. “Call.”

“… Wha—? Oh! You don’t believe me?”

“… It doesn’t look that impressive.”

“Are you looking with Meditation?”

“Yeah. Duh.”

“Okay. Uh. Here—”

Erick gently picked her up with a few dozen hands and set her a foot to the left. She sputtered a complaint the second she was moved, but not very loudly. When she was back on the ground, she sighed.

“Okay. Fine. I guess you won that round.” She muttered, “This isn’t fair.” Quieter, she mumbled, “I get a fucking archmage.”

Erick laughed. “I matriculated last month, too.”

“Yeah! Well. Your weird ideas certainly helped you get ahead. What the fuck am I supposed to do against an archmage?”

A few neighbors had looked over at Erick and Zimmy by now, but with that outburst, all of them took a small step away.

Erick smiled. “I don’t know? Try to have fun with it? I’ve played this game before, but much, much differently. One person would say a thing, anything at all, and the next would say something that conquered that thing, back and forth until one person duplicated an answer, or was stuck in a corner.”

“Phhhph! What’s the point of that!” She dissolved her [Conjure Armor], then said, “If you can’t prove you’re capable, what’s the point?”

“To have fun.” Erick added, “We don’t have monsters where I’m from.”

She muttered, “Lucky bastard.”

Erick said, “I’ll go next. [Call lightning]. I’m not actually going to show that, though.”

Zimmy stilled. She quickly relaxed, and said, “We’re in a building. Under trees.”

“Good! So then, [Force Shrapnel] Aura.”

Zimmy waited. “Well?”

“I’m not going to do that either. Why don’t we just trust each other’s capability?”

“Fine! [Blink] behind you and stab you.”

“700 point [Personal Ward].” Erick poked one hand against the other, ticking a point of damage from his white [Ward], revealing its existence; he had gotten much better at making it mostly invisible in the last week. “Does that mean I’m on the defensive, now?”

Zimmy frowned. “This is basic stancing.”

“Oh! So there’s advanced versions?”

“Yeah. But…” Zimmy shook her head. “And I can’t deal with that! 700 points? Damn.”

“Sure you can. [Force Beam] to the head? I crit a shadowolf one time for 350 damage that way.”

“… I don’t have [Force Beam].”

“Shaped [Force Shrapnel]?”

“… Shaped [Force Shrapnel]…” She looked away, muttering, “To the head.”

“There you go! You got it!” Erick spoke a bit softer, “Though this is mightily uncomfortable to talk about hitting each other.”

“… Yeah.” She breathed. She said, “My cous— Never mind.” She stared at Erick. “Let’s start from the top.”

Erick smiled. “Okay.”

“[Blink] at you and attack.”

“Handy Aura and slap you away.”

“Shaped Shrapnel.”

“[Blink] behind you and attack with a few hands…”

“Decay [Strike].” Her dagger glinted green. “It stops [Ward] regeneration and healing for about 4 seconds.”

“It does? Then I fly up with a handy aura.” Erick lifted a foot off the ground.

“I wait you out, keeping up with [Swift Movement] or [Blink].”

“Scion of Focus.”

“Phhhfh!” Zimmy dissolved her dagger. “I’m done.”

Erick frowned. “Why?”

“I can’t deal with that kind of flight, and if it’s an aura it doesn’t matter if I [Dispel]. You just cast it again. Or you could wait me out any number of ways.” She looked over at Draz. “And I think—”

Draz yelled, “SWITCH! Random seed.”

Zimmy said, “Just pick someone.” As she was walking away, she muttered, “I’m sorry about my cousins. They were real assholes.”

Erick watched Zimmy go. He had known there was some connection between her and the two that attacked the Sewerhouse. He hadn’t known they were cousins. Erick felt a pang of grief—

The greenscale who got chewed out by Draz appear before him.

“Hello, Archmage Flatt.” Greenscale bowed. “I’m Kiri.” She smiled full of teeth, and said, “Want to go ~theoretical~ with me?”

Erick laughed. “You’re much too young for me.”

She blushed, her cheeks turning deeper green. She sputtered, “I mean… Stancing without displays.”

“Sure. [Handy Aura] you away.”

“Call.”

“You ask for theoretical and then you call?” Erick gently picked her up and moved her a foot away, saying, “Not very sporting of you.”

“… You shouldn’t have been able to move me.”

“Why?”

“Because I have [Dispelling Aura] on.”

Erick looked at her with Meditation. There was something funky just beside her skin, like a gap in the manasphere. Huh. Odd.

“I do have a thousand of these hands and your aura looks rather thin. Can you use that at the same time as a [Personal Ward]?”

“… No. I just thought… Never mind. Let’s go strictly theoretical.”

“Sure. Handy Aura to move you away.”

“[Blink] out of range, [Invisible].”

“Invisibility Purge. [Force Beam].”

“… You have [Invisibility Purge]?”

“We’re just theoretical, aren’t we?” Erick added with a smile, “Careful now, I’m starting to get suspicious that this is not simple Stancing.”

Kiri paled, but quickly recovered. She stated, “… If you must know: I’m taking the tragedy of my forced recertification by pushing faux combat with an archmage. This never happens, and I am taking advantage in every way I can. I apologize for pushing too far.”

“Sure. We’ll go with that. So? What’s your response? [Invisibility Purge], and… [Fireball].”

“[Reflection].”

“[Blink], [Call Lightning].”

She smiled. “[Weather Ward].”

“On the ground or…?”

“On myself.”

“[Decay Tracking Force Beam].”

“… That’s a bit overkill, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I do think that.”

Kiri frowned.

They began again. Erick mostly stuck to what he had, but added enough variation to throw Kiri off and win a few more rounds. When it came time to switch, no one wanted to go to Erick; he was having fun with Kiri anyway, so Kiri gladly stayed. Eventually, she started winning, especially when Erick stuck to what he had. He wracked his brain for combinations of Force spells and Mana Alterings, but more often than not, met her absolute defenses and counterattacks. She did have one glaring weakness though: her flight spell was tied to her [Ward]. But as for himself? So many weaknesses. For starters, he just didn't have enough magic, and he wasn't fluent in magical combat either way. In a straight up fight between him and any other person on Kiri’s level, he would lose. The only way for him to win would be to run away and attack another day, or to rely on others to give him openings.

Which was why adventurers traveled in parties, so Erick didn’t feel too behind-the-curve; he didn’t need to be able to do everything himself.

Stancing didn’t seem to have much value when Erick began, but it showed its worth quickly enough.

After an hour of Stancing, Draz began the actual physical combat lessons; no spells allowed. Erick thought the term ‘lessons’ rather loose. Draz didn’t do much more than tell people to pick a spot, whereupon the people beat each other up for the rest of the day. Erick and Kiri both used staves, but Erick was the one who ended up with his face in the sand 9 times out of 10. Draz did come by and help once or twice, though. Those were the only times Erick won, and only because Kiri let it happen.

The damage from Kiri’s staff would occasionally cleave the whole way through Erick’s [Ward], and if that didn't give Erick enough of a fright the first time it happened: hitting 0 canceled the [Ward]. He had to recast it every time that happened, which began to happen with alarming frequency. More than once, a strike —not a [Strike]— got through both a full strength [Ward] and a few dozen HP. Kiri was pulling her strikes; she knew exactly how far to go, how strong to hit, to get through 800 points of damage.

Erick was reminded of what Bacci had said, weeks ago: ‘HP is an illusion; never trust it.’

The class broke for lunch, then came back together for more sparring. Draz mixed up some of the groups, re-pairing people as necessary, but he didn’t switch Erick or Kiri away from one another.

Erick ended the day with his face in the sand, and very, very sore.

But not dirty! Thank you, [Cleanse].

Goddamn, he loved that spell. Best spell ever.

After dinner, and because he saw exactly how much he needed [Teleport] thanks to the day’s Stancing, he leveled [Blink] to 10, then bought [Teleport]. [Blink] and [Teleport] were an odd pair of spells; linked to each other, but both tier 1 and you couldn’t buy the second without the first, there were a few other spells paired in this way, but not many. [Strike] had the most variants. Thanks to the day’s Stancing, he discovered [Blood Strike], which was vampiric in nature, and [Delayed Strike], which was as the name implied. There was also [Ward Strike], which did double damage to [Ward]s, and [Mercy Strike], which would do normal damage, but always leave 1 to 10 of the enemy’s HP remaining. Kiri never visibly showed any of those skills in the actual sparring, though, which led Erick to believe that Kiri was also lying a bit in the Stancing portion of the day. Or maybe Erick just didn't recognize [Strike] for what it was.

That second option was probably more correct.

[Strike] was a really weird attack, anyway. A warrior could use it against anyone with just a tap of their finger, but it would do damage based upon the full force of the weapon used, applied in the most damaging way upon whatever surface they struck. Using [Strike] with the lightest tap of a finger, against a person’s arm, would be like driving that finger ramrod straight against that arm, with the full force of a person’s whole Strength score.

[Strike] was a strange attack.

… Reflecting on his lack of skill, after dinner, Erick went ahead and leveled [Force Beam] to 10, and used [Swift Movement] as his HP would allow. [Force Beam] got to 10, and Erick discovered he could use multiple beams at once; this was why people used their fingers to point the beams, not their eyes. This was so they could fire and maintain five to ten beams at once.

[Swift Movement] leveled, but lagged behind.

With Jane’s help, Erick started really working on [Swift Movement]. The skill got a bit higher, but when Jane’s healing spells started to heal for less, and Erick started to feel a bit dumb, that was the start of Health Fatigue. It was time to stop.

Jane put Erick to bed just before midnight, kissing his forehead.

“Good night, Dad. I love you.”

“I’m proud of you, Jane. To do all this at 600 HP? It’s a… a word for … something. It’s inspiriting!”

Jane smiled. “I’m proud of you, too.”

- - - -

The next day, the recertification group was missing several people. In the same room as before, but much more open, Erick proceeded to get his ass handed to him by Kiri for the rest of the day.

By the time he made it home, Jane had a surprise waiting for him in the kitchen: She had learned [Polymorph] from Ramizi’s potion and cleared the center of the room. She promptly turned into a bear, but not a very good one. She was a great big, kinda funky, human-ish bear, with a great big mouth and sharp teeth and a fuzzy little bum with a cute tiny tail, with human feet and tiny little button ears that flicked back and forth. She was a cross between something very cute and very terrifying, and the whole effect was pure insanity. Erick laughed. Jane sat her cute furry bum on the stone floor while Erick laughed himself out.

Finally, Erick said, “Don’t you remember what a bear looks like!?”

“Ra raah ra roO.”

Erick laughed and laughed.

Jane ignored him and clawed the shadowspider into the center of the kitchen. Erick vomited at the first crunch. He rushed out of the room on the second.

When he returned an hour later, Jane was a giant black spider who had weaved a message in black spider silk on the side of the room.

‘It worked!’ read the message, along with, ‘Doo dee doo I’m a big ol’ spider, very very big.’

Erick vomited again. Jane turned to see him.

She was terrifying.

Erick asked, “What’s your Willpower, Jane?”

Jane-spider spoke in a crackling, chittering voice, “30, right now. Points go into Willpower from now on, like you said.”

Keeping his multiple terrors at bay, Erick said, “Good. Good. Now stop this, please.” Erick looked over to see who he could blame. He saw Teressa, standing in the back of the room, still not wearing her armor but more herself than she was the day before. She didn’t deserve what Erick was going to to do her. “Teressa is getting scared.”

Teressa immediately stared daggers at Erick, who just mouthed ‘Sorry’, as Jane turned to face her.

Teressa took the bullet, saying, “Yes, ma’am. Very scary.”

Jane reverted to human, quickly grabbing her nearby towel and wrapping it around herself. “Sorry, Teressa. I should be more aware about holding a form like that within a thousand miles of Spur. And… Your recent trauma.”

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am.”

Erick mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

- - - -

There were even fewer people at the Adventurer’s Guildhouse recertification course on Erick's third day. They had started with 30, but they were down to 15. Kiri and Zimmy were still there, though.

Draz said, “Another day of Stancing and Sparring. Have at it.”

For as simple as the instructor’s regimen was, Erick had never gone through basic training or anything like it before; he felt he was learning quite a lot. Everyone else who failed to show had probably had enough of Draz’s monotonous exercises; Kiri confirmed as much when the class broke for a Rest between the Stancing and the Sparring.

“Of course it’s designed more as a punishment than instruction.” Kiri said, “There’s more places to farm mimics than Spur, but people need to show they know their stuff before they’re allowed inside Ar’Kendrithyst. I hear Frontier is a lot more lax about letting people enter from their side, but that’s only because they don’t have the Spur’s presence and power in the Dead City.”

Erick had heard some of that before, but it was interesting to hear an outsider’s perspective. “How much of a presence does Spur have?”

Kiri said, “I’ve heard they control a whole city block. A few square kilometers. The army fights the daily fights, but they evacuate when the Shades come around. Killzone stays. I hear Killzone has killed any Shade that ever attacked Spur’s Forward Base, even hunting them back to their own lairs.” She added, “He’s carved out his own niche in the Dead City, using the blood and bones of Shades to keep it under his control, when necessary.” She asked, “What have you heard?”

“The residents go in and kill monsters, rip out rads, and then get the hell out of there. Only transient adventurers go in further to look for treasure… I hear the Shades like to kill the shadowmonsters for their rads, too, then use those to enchant some pretty horrific things. But if you’re going to steal from a Shade you can only do it once; if the Shades don’t kill you, you better not come back to Spur.”

“I’ve heard that, too.”

Draz shouted, “Rest over! Time to spar!”

Erick grabbed his training staff, then moved to the sands, saying, “En garde!”

“… What’s that mean?” Kiri grabbed her own staff and moved to join him.

“A phrase to signify the raising of weapons and the joining of battle.”

Kiri smiled. “En garde!”

Erick was promptly flipped onto the floor.

He muffled into the sand, “I really should be using [Swift Movement] all the time.”

“Of course you should! And you should get a healing spell.”

Erick got back up. “Not yet.”

“Why the heck not?”

“… I have a specific reason for this, and that is all I am going to say on the subject.”

Kiri’s eyes glinted in the way that they did when she spotted a hidden truth. She had many of these moments the last two days, but this one was definitely the most prominent. Erick would have abandoned her as a partner if she ever pushed a subject, but every time, she backed off, giving a little nod; whatever subject Erick said ‘no’ to, became taboo.

Erick was starting to like Kiri; she was a bubbly, happy girl, driven to succeed, well versed in both magic and physical combat, and as understated as she could be without being a doormat.

Erick asked, “Where are you from, anyway?”

“Greensoil Republic. Tower Academy town. I came out here to—”

Draz interrupted, “Too much talking, not enough hitting.”

Kiri leveled her staff, nodded, and said, “En garde.”

Erick moved swiftly, his HP draining 1 point every second and more, as exertion demanded. He stepped to the side and pushed Kiri’s staff away. Kiri pulled her staff. She stepped to the side, swinging it wide. Erick blocked—

His staff snapped where Kiri struck; her staff clipping through to hit him in the thigh, sending him to the ground and carving deep into his [Ward]. Hundreds of points vanished, just like that, but they were already coming back thanks to [Ward X]'s regeneration ability.

Erick sighed out against the sand. He got up. He [Mend]ed his staff. He went back to Kiri and started the spar again.

Rinse, repeat, over and over again.

Somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, she stopped, and said, “You’re really bad at this. I expected some improvement. You’re getting the forms down a bit, but… You’re not executing them well. At all.”

Erick got up from the ground, again. He wasn’t surprised that he was this bad at sparring; he was surprised he was physically capable of sparring at all. He wasn’t young; but he wasn’t really in pain, either. Sure, there were bruises and blood, and broken calluses on his hands, but that kind of pain was normal, expected pain. There were no aching bones or sprained wrists, or a back that refused to bend properly, or knees that just ached for no reason at all. He wasn’t getting much better at this whole fighting thing, but he wasn’t in pain either. As he stood there, ready for another spar, he felt great.

Emotionally, he was winded; no one gets flattened to the floor by a person half their age for three days and doesn’t feel a bit inadequate. But physically? He was fine. He wasn’t good at this, not by a long shot, but he was physically capable, and that made Erick get back up, every time.

Erick said, “I think… I could do this all day.”

“Yes, well… Doing this all day and getting better at it are two different things.”

“Then I’ll do [Swift Movement], and you don’t.”

Kiri smirked. “Okay.”

Erick ended the spar on the floor again, but it took Kiri ten minutes to accomplish.

Erick stood. “Again.”

And again, and again, and again.

When the day was done, Erick said to Kiri, “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Everyone’s talking about it. A full day a rain, eh?”

“Yeah. The farms are prepared for a great harvest. A lot of people have tilled their own plots of land to see what kind of beans sprout. I won’t do this often; this might be the only time it happens.”

Kiri nodded. “How does it work, anyway?”

“A lot of nutrients plants need are already in the air. The spell converts those into usable form, and then provides everything needed for a good [Grow].”

“That’s what I’ve heard. I thought there might have been more to it.”

Erick smiled wide. “Of course there is. A lot more.”

“Such as?”

“A lot of magic.”

Kiri harrumphed.