Later Trent would be confused by that. Now he was too tired, too spent, to care.
"The entrance will open in ten minutes." The Spirit stroked its Keeper's hair and pulled her closer. "Respawn functions will resume at that time. XP and rewards will be double for twenty-four hours to celebrate the Keeper's survival. Unique drops and loot will appear randomly. New challengers will take time to reach the area where your group waits."
"Are you asking if we'll stay and keep fighting?" Trent rubbed the back of his neck and wheezed out a chuckle. "I'm exhausted, and my… friends… can't handle the fifth floor."
"You faced a unique situation. The fifth floor will be changed. It's current setting will be adjusted. Recommend a party of 6, Level 25 Adventurers for the Guardian. Your party may be able to challenge the standard Beasts if you lead them."
"They won't get better with me doing all the work. Best we stick to the fourth floor until they pick up a few Levels." An eyestalk tracked him as Trent moved to the silver chest. It winked in amusement at Trent's unconscious decision to convince Kerry and Felicia that a round of training was in order.
Trent flipped the lid of the chest open. Inside, a few pages of paper lay on top of two Crystals. His fingers brushed the Crystals, awarding him 4 Attribute Points and 5 Skill Points, when he picked the papers up. He murmured appreciatively and firmly set the idea of spending the new Skill Points from his mind as he thumbed the papers.
Five sheets, covered in a neat scrawl and decorated with notes. Trent recognized what was in front of him immediately. It was maps of each floor of the Trial with detailed information on the Beasts and Trap types written down the side. The maps drawn on the paper were practically identical to the ones concocted by his Map Ability. The third floor was different, that one had been drastically altered since it was deemed unacceptable, and the fourth floor had a few side tunnels added. All else was the same.
"The Guild pays well for information on new or changed Trials." The Spirit spotted the discontent in Trent's face and identified its source immediately. "You will be compensated for turning those pages over."
"Hmmm," Trent chewed the inside of his cheek, partially mollified. He Stored the pages after deciding it was pointless to argue. "I should get back to where I left the others then."
He offered a short bow to the Spirit, who spared two limbs to wave at him. An eyestalk watched until Trent left the chamber, then all three focused on the slumbering Keeper.
"You played a dangerous game, little one. He knew what you were doing and still came. Could you not see that? Did you not know what that meant? There is more power slumbering in his gloves than is contained by our walls. Had he died…"
The Spirit shuddered, its squishy flesh jiggling. "The young are very brave."
A humming filled the Guardian chamber as the Trial Spirit rocked its Keeper and sung her a song, a lullaby, from the Kingdom it had once guided. A kingdom long since destroyed, for which its current form was the last memorial. To this day, it didn't know if any of the children of the race it had once sheltered survived.
The Spirit could feel Trent's footsteps racing back through the tunnels. Trudging at first, then pattering, and finally all but silent as he ran with the grace of a Swordsman, bolstered by the stealth of a Rogue and Hunter.
The Spirit had accepted custody of this Trial and the childlike Keeper because it had wanted to see whether the Al'rashians could recover in this small corner of the world. It had wanted to see that, wanted to be a part of it. It had waited a long time, training the descendants of the original settlers. It had never expected someone like Trent to arrive.
"I'm telling you, something's different." Kerry kicked the unyielding
door for the hundredth time. He stared at the sword engraving on the wood, daring the carving to do something about his offense. He thought about using Taunt on the inanimate entry to see if it would respond to a little verbal abuse.
"Do you hear me arguing with you?" Felicia sighed. She scratched Dreq's ears. Dreq growled but leaned into her fingers. His eyes never left the door Trent had gone through. Though he had accepted it when Felicia picked him up and moved him from his spot at its base, he knew where he should be focused.
"I agree, the Dungeon feels different. What do you want to do about it?" Felicia set a piece of cheese in front of Dreq to stop him from growling. His tongue flicked out, and he pulled it into his mouth without lifting his head.
"The door is wood. Why don't you try burning it?" Kerry lifted an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. "And doesn't it bother you that the Dog is three times the size he was a few hours ago?"
It was true. Dreq had been barely taller than Felicia's ankle when Trent left them behind. His shoulder reached her knee now. You could see him growing if you watched closely. Felicia had moved him closer so she could feed him. She knew the growth was from the XP the Dog gained from Trent, but a body needed food to sustain that kind of development.
"He's a baby; he is supposed to grow. Don't tell me you haven't noticed he's a member of the party?" Felicia offered Dreq a hunk of dried meat and smiled to see the Dog's tail wag as he snatched it up.
"He's an animal. Is it healthy for him to get so big this fast?" Kerry turned away from the door and put his hands on his hips.
"You're an animal. Stupid." Dreq covered his words with chomping and slobbering. Kerry missed the message meant for him. Felicia, closer to the Dog, pursed her lips. Her ears had caught a growl that suspiciously sounded like the word stupid. It wasn't the first time. Dreq's barking always sounded derogatory when his muzzle was pointed at Kerry.
"He's special, I think." Felicia smoothed Dreq's raised hackles. "Different. I wonder where Trent found him."
Kerry stamped over and dropped down next to Dreq. He started to ruffle the Dog's fur and quickly retracted his hand when puppy teeth snapped at it.
"He doesn't like me." Kerry shot Dreq a wounded look. "Think he's a Beast? He has Skills, and he's certainly mean enough for it. Tamers can use swords. And they are more likely to have Detect Traps. They set Traps to capture Beasts. Do you think Trent is really a Tamer and just pretending to be a Swordsman?"
"You know as much about Trent as I do." Kerry had raised an interesting point, though, and Felicia thought it over before shaking her head. "If he is lying about his Class, then it's a weird lie. It could be a half-truth. He could be a Swordsman and a Tamer."
"Two Classes, and both Specialized? He's too young. He can't be that much older than me," Kerry disagreed. "He would have had to fight every day for months to develop two Classes."
Felicia didn't say anything to that. Adventurers had a blind spot when it came to others. They were quick to judge based on their own standards. Kerry had loads of talent. He was honest and trusting. He took everything his teachers told him and applied it diligently. When confronted by an existence like Trent, Kerry had nothing to compare it to, so he ignored certain facts to fit Trent into his worldview.
Adventurers rested between adventures. They made money to cover their needs, then spent it until the bills required them to delve again. They might train in their off time, polishing Skills and tactics. They did not risk their lives day after day without end. What would be the point? You earned money to spend it. That was how an Adventurer's mind worked.
Telling him where he was wrong might enlighten Kerry, but Felicia doubted it. He had seen what Trent was capable of. He had to recognize what it meant on his own. Trent was the type of Adventurer who reached Silver rank while his contemporaries were happy with Iron and dreamt of Steel.
"Maybe you should go back." Felicia folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. "You can buy out of the charter and spend the XP you've been saving. I'll wait for Trent."
It was as close as she could bring herself to warning Kerry. She was planning to follow Trent as long as he allowed it. She knew Kerry was having similar thoughts. The more she turned the idea over in her mind, the more she realized that Kerry had no clue what he was getting into.
Her advice fell on deaf ears. The door was easing open, and Kerry was on his feet with his flail out. There was a brief glimpse of a figure in black and white leather wearing a silver mask before a ball of fur hit Trent's chest.
Trent closed his arms around Dreq to prevent the pup from falling. He wavered under the unexpected assault, managing not to step back but failing to prevent Dreq's tongue from pushing under his mask to lick his chin. Before Trent could pull his face away from Dreq's, Kerry grabbed his shoulder and shook him.
"You made it back!" Happy at first, Kerry's tone quickly turned angry. "Ass! You left us behind. Felicia was a ball of nerves worrying about you. You owe her an apology."
"I was a ball of nerves? You were the one crying every fifteen minutes, like a fat oversized baby." Felicia pushed past Kerry and began checking Trent. "You aren't injured, are you?"
"I'm fine, a little tired." Trent dropped Dreq. The Dog landed with a yelp and immediately began jumping against Trent's leg.
"I bet, from the way the XP was rolling in, you must have been in the thick of it." Kerry kept pounding at Trent's shoulder while he spoke. "We should head back now. Get a meal at the Guild and rent a bed. I would offer you mine in the dorms but… we missed the first day of the new term. Not sure I have a bed to offer."
"About going back…" Trent disentangled himself from the three crowding him and moved into the Safe Zone. The tranquil air of the space
was a balm to him. He breathed it in before continuing.
"The Trial… I killed Beasts on the way back here. The XP was doubled. I'm going to stay for a while longer."
They looked at him like he was insane. Trent felt insane.
"The fifth floor is a little difficult. Best to stay on the fourth. I'd like to eat first. And take a short nap."
Kerry tucked the Return Scroll he had pulled out back into his satchel. He exchanged looks and shrugs with Felicia before saying, "We did miss the start of the term."
"I don't have anywhere else I need to be." Felicia brushed at the front of her robe and adjusted the circlet on her head. "Might as well be here."
"Settled then!" Kerry clapped his hands together. "Rest up Trent, when your ready we'll—"
Felicia shushed him, and Kerry closed his mouth. Sitting, leaning back against the far wall with Dreq curled up in his lap, Trent was already asleep.
Chapter Forty-Nine The entrance to the Dungeon had been closed for six hours. The crack in
the bell-shaped rock had sealed so thoroughly you would think it had never been. Since the closure, Guild Attendants and Guardsmen had worked diligently to line out the rules and thin the crowd that had gathered, restoring order to the compound, if not the town. The Dungeon had space to accommodate hundreds of Adventurers, but not if they entered as a horde, tripping over and fighting one another.
It would be first come, first served. Groups would enter in twenty-minute intervals. A rough time schedule was worked out, and numbers were passed around. You could wait at the Guild or on the hillside outside the Dungeon. When your number came up, you entered. Miss being called? There was always room at the end of the line.
Only five groups chose to wait at the entrance. The rest headed back, grumbling. When the crack in stone reappeared and the Dungeon opened, the hill would be noisy with those waiting their turn. It was a waste to stand around now unless you were at the head of the line.
Eliora sat with Kosey and his partner Mark not far from the rock and clutched a tile etched with the number one in her hands. Mark had not only been holding a spot for them, but he had also claimed the front of the line. Eliora was surprised the weak-chinned Marksman was so capable.
After introducing himself as Mark the Marksman, with a chuckle and a gap-toothed grin, Mark hadn't said a word. Not one word in close to six hours. Nods, grunts, and empty-headed smiles was how he communicated. Eliora would have expected a man like Mark to be shoved aside by more aggressive Adventurers. Holding his ground to take the first title was the only clue Eliora had on which to base her assessment of Mark's skill.
Eliora supposed she shouldn't judge the Marksman, who looked like a farmhand, too harshly just because he was quiet. She wasn't exactly a bubbly conversationalist herself. There was no need to be with Kosey around. The man filled every silence with a story, needing no encouragement to spout advice or laughter in respond to his own crude jokes.
Eliora tuned it out, sharpening and oiling her knives and limiting her interactions with Kosey to nods and the occasional, "Is that so?" When she
looked over and saw Mark tending to his bow like she was her knives, it hit her that Kosey was probably the reason he was so withdrawn. Maybe away from the boisterous man, Mark opened up.
Concentrating on her knives, Eliora was startled when Kosey and Mark stood without warning. She dropped her tools and took a grip on her weapon, looking around for a threat.
"Good reaction!" Kosey snorted, jerking his head to the left. "But a wrong one. On your feet, Raven, the Dungeon is in business."
The crack in the rock had opened without a sound. Eliora was two steps behind Mark and Kosey as the men entered it, without waiting for the Sergeant on duty to call them over. Eliora tossed the group's tile to the man, who caught it with a disapproving look. She had to fight back the urge to apologize for their behavior. Neither Adventurers nor Nobles had the habit of apologizing to Guardsmen.
Eliora examined the first room in the Dungeon with curious eyes. She padded towards the statues of Beetles, intent on studying them when Kosey's voice pulled her up short.
"We talked about this. You've got rear, Raven." Kosey shouldered past her, a golden shield, embossed with a roaring lion's head on one arm and a gold-hilted longsword with a ruby pommel in the other. "I lead, Mark in the middle with the compass. You do have the compass, right, Mark?"
"Right here." Mark stepped by her as well, holding up the Mana compass to show Kosey. Eliora finished casting Night Sight on herself as the Marksman went by. Under the Spell's effects, Mark's drooping eyelids and weak chin took on a sinister appearance.
"Good. We move fast then. Mana compass should lead us to the Guardian quick like." Kosey looked over his shoulder at Eliora. "You remember, right Raven? Straight to the Guardian, fast as we can. Twenty-minute head start won't mean much, have to take advantage of it."
"I remember!" Eliora snapped. "Lead the way." "Huffy won't make you friends either, Raven. Thought you wanted to
make friends." Kosey was already moving. Mark didn't look back as he followed, and Eliora found the butterflies back in her stomach as she brought up the rear. Neither of them was carrying a torch, and no one had cast a Light Spell. They had their own Skills to penetrate the dark. Skills they failed to mention.
It was a small thing. Hardly worth mentioning, but it still put Eliora's
back up. A Marksman could be expected to have vision Skills, and it would be smart for a Shield Warrior to pick some up. Why then did it feel like they were keeping secrets, holding out on her?
Because for all Kosey's talk of trust, they were still strangers. Of course, they had secrets. Mentally giving herself a shake, Eliora tried to keep her attention on her job. It had been decided, by Kosey, that her Skills as an Assassin were best used in rear watch, given their line-up. She hadn't argued much, although she did disagree. Kosey was a difficult man to dissuade. He talked over any conversation he didn't want to hear.
They made excellent time, arriving at the Guardian chamber like they were following a map. The Mana compass Mark held pointed towards the largest concentration of energy in the area, and while they did have to backtrack after two dead ends, it did its job well.
The Dungeon may have grown tougher after its change, but it was still a newbie training ground. With their Levels, the three powered through swarms of Swift Beetles. Mark rarely used his bow, collecting drops while Eliora and Kosey fought. They had already agreed to split the miscellaneous goods at the end of their run.
The Guardian, a bigger version of the Swift Beetles, was where Mark earned his keep. He dropped the flying bug with two arrows and used a barrage of Skills to finish it within seconds.
"XP and drops for the little ones are about double what I would expect for a minor Dungeon. This Guardian is a miser, though." Kosey pawed through the Guardian's loot. He took one object for himself before tossing another item, and a few coins to Mark. Standing up, he held a dagger out to Eliora, but held it back when she reached for it. "It's junk, but we can sell it for a bit. Sure you want it?"
"I'm sure. A spare knife is never a problem." Eliora took the dagger and put it in a Storage device built into the lining of her cloak.
Kosey's lips bulged outward, reminding Eliora of a bullfrog, as he pushed his tongue against his lower lip. Spitting, he said, "True. And, it's your fair loot. Don't mind me, Raven. I'm a victim of my own expectations. I came here looking for a good time and found a cold fish."
Eliora bristled at that, and Kosey winked at her. "Not you, Raven. You're holding up exactly how I thought you would. It's this damn pit. Dolls and strings and coppers. This was the Guardian's first date, but it's paying out like a tax collector. That is to say, not at all."
"We're over-leveled. It will be better deep in," Mark offered, pulling his compass out of his belt pouch.
"It had better be." Kosey sniffed and grumbled, "Or this is the worst whorehouse I've ever been in. Let's move."
The second floor did nothing to improve Kosey's mood. He hated the Ants and the Traps. They didn't pose much of a challenge, but neither did they pay well. Kosey was thoroughly pissed off by the time the second obstacle made itself known.
Climbing vines while the room filled with water behind, and mosquitoes the size of small dogs diving at you was frustrating as it was. The sight of the chest under forty feet of crystal-clear water pushed the Shield Warrior past annoyance to genuine rage.
"You both saw it. How, by the ash-filled abyss, are we supposed to reach it?" Kosey could not tear himself away from the edge of the lake that had formed.
"Swim," Mark said helpfully. The water rippled; something large with teeth broke the surface.
"Doesn't matter if we're fifteen levels higher than they are. In the water, those chompers will rip through us like hot knives through belly fat." Kosey thrust the tip of his blade into the water and swished it around, daring the Beasts below to come out on dry land and fight.
"The chest is under hundreds of feet of water by now." Eliora stayed far away from the lake and its aquatic predators. "We should have dove for it when we first spotted it."
"Room filled too fast for that. We would have been trying to out-swim these fish if we'd gone back," Kosey responded. "This is the problem with being first. Someone else will have to solve this. We missed our chance already. Let's keep going."
Ants and more Ants, culminating in a vicious battle with a flying silver version as a Guardian. That fight put Kosey's mood at an all-time low. The Ant Queen soared out of reach of his sword, flinging bolts of energy as she flew overhead. Mark and Eliora had their hands full attacking her with Spells and arrows, which the Queen nimbly dodged. Kosey was relegated to watching their backs and stomping on minions.
Eliora found the man's attitude odd. A Shield Warrior should be used to such activities. It was their job to keep lesser creatures at bay while the damage dealers went to work. Kosey acted like the position was beneath him,
snarling and complaining, cursing at his companions to finish the Guardian faster.
Eliora kept her doubts to herself as they entered the third floor. She kept quiet as Prickly Stick Bugs leaped out from cracks in the wall. She ignored Kosey's discontent when Bugs broke through his defenses and stabbed at the joints of his armor. She held her tongue when they entered the Guardian's chamber and confronted the Rock Beetle waiting for them.
She couldn't hold back anymore when the Guardian fell to her knives. Mark's arrows had been more irritating to the bug than threatening, and Kosey's sword had been all but useless. It was an Assassin's ability to ignore a certain amount of Defensive Rating and her Piercing Stab Skill that cracked the bug's shell. She had every right to pick up and hand out the drops when the Guardian vanished beneath her attacks.
Kosey didn't think that way. "You leave them on the ground!" He shouted as Eliora tossed a quiver to
Mark. "I'm leading, I'll hand out the loot." "Three items and some coins," Eliora began. A wrought-iron bracelet
bounced off Kosey's chest. He refused to catch the item that was meant for him. "An enchanted quiver for an Archer. A defensive bracelet for a Shield Warrior. It's the best we've seen so far. Why are you so upset?"
"And what did you get?" Kosey challenged. "Maybe the bracelet is for you. You saying an Assassin doesn't need to worry about her pretty skin being cut. Hand it all over, I'll decide who gets what."
"It's a gem." Eliora held the item in question tightly, refusing to give into Kosey's demands. "A grey pearl, I think. Probably a Stealth enchantment for armor. Give me a moment to Appraise it and—"
Kosey's fingers wrapped around her wrist like a vise, painfully tight. "A grey pearl? You haven't Appraised it yet?"
There was a light in Kosey's eyes that Eliora didn't like. The musing in his voice should have been a pleasant change from the growling he had been doing. It wasn't. His hand had pushed up the sleeve of her shirt and the note in his voice was as unwelcome as the sweaty palm touching her skin.
"Keep your hands off me!" Twisting against his thumb, Eliora broke free and stepped back. "What difference does it make who checks the loot? Do you think I'm stealing from you? What happened to trust, Kosey? You have to give it to get it, yes?"
"The difference is that you're green, Raven." A leer split Kosey's lips, his
hands fell to his waist. "Beetles don't drop pearls. Sometimes though, just sometimes, a freshly evolved Dungeon can drop… show it to me, Raven. Show me, and maybe we can still be friends."
Eliora took another step back and held the contested item up pinched between her thumb and forefingers. "Look! Just a cheap gem! Not anything to get worked up over."
Kosey's face was somber. All except for his eyes. Those stayed on the object in her hand as his head wagged from side to side and were lit with excitement.
"Green, too green." Kosey made the slightest twisting gesture with his right hand, and Mark, who had been staying clear of the argument, started stepping to the side, boxing Eliora in as he raised his bow.
"I've been wondering why you hide your face, Raven? Is it a pretty one? Did not want to find out this way, hoped you'd show me yourself." He actually sounded apologetic as he drew his sword.
"You want it. Take it. You can have the pearl, and we'll be quits." Eliora drew a knife and tried to keep Kosey between her and the arrow that had formed as Mark drew his bowstring. "You can have all the loot. I don't want anything."
"Shame. But this is why you shouldn't delve with strangers and no charter." A knife filled Kosey's left hand, his shield forgotten as it hung from a strap over his shoulder,"My fault. Didn't expect to see… that pearl… in a minor Dungeon. Can't have you carrying tales, Raven."
"There's no need for this." Eliora dropped the pearl into the pocket of her cloak and drew a second dagger. She used Silent Cast to prepare a Spell in her head. "I haven't Appraised it. What can I tell you? I don't even know what has you so worked up."
"Wish that were true, girl. A description is enough to have Al'dross soldiers chasing Mark and me into the Wilds. Can't have that, can't trust the word of a stranger. You understand," he said it like she should, like it was perfectly normal to murder a group member to silence them.
"Sad thing is, I'm here to recruit. Told the Tiger I should bring the charter along and have potentials sign it right away. He likes to look recruits over first. Wish I could let you sign, let you live, girl… that can't happen, I'm afraid."
Eliora cast her Spell and flung herself to the side. Mark's arrow cracked against the wall where she had been standing as she rolled to her feet, Eliora
was confident Shadow Sphere would hide her as she ran towards the exit leading to the next floor. The arrow that cut her cheek and ripped the hood from her head suggested that confidence was misplaced.
She stumbled, almost dropping knives, and dodged to the right to avoid a third arrow. Her eyes were wide as she looked to where Mark and Kosey stood. Their eyes were on her, and a lopsided grin crossed Kosey's face. She knew a Shield Warrior shouldn't have been capable of seeing through her Spell. Shadow Sphere covered almost the entire room; she should have been concealed.
"Not a Shield Warrior!" She twirled, holding out the edge of her cloak as another arrow bounced off its enchanted cloth. However, the cloak couldn't block the force of the projectile, and Eliora bit back a groan as the arrow hit like a fist driving into her kidney.
"No more than Mark is a Marksman, or that his name is Mark for that matter. Are you going to run into the Dungeon? What does that get you?" Kosey seemed in no hurry to close with her as he ambled forward, loosening his wrist by slashing at the air with his sword.
Not much, Eliora admitted to herself. Shadow magic was best at concealment and confusion, effects that were apparently useless against Kosey. Shadows were seriously lacking when it came to attacking. However, she did know a few other Spells, and she cast Ice Web at Mark, spoiling his shot as she rushed for the tunnel.
"What's the point, Raven? I've had a Tracer on you since we agreed to work together. Where you go, I can follow. Running gets you nothing!"
That was bad news. A Tracer Skill meant Kosey was a Tracker at the very least, although Eliora was doubtful that was all the man had kept from her. The good news was that Tracer Skills had a time limit. Her Spells didn't hide her from him, but they would still work on Beasts. If she could keep away long enough and the Dungeon's bugs slowed the two down, Eliora could outlast the Tracer. She might be able to turn the tables when that happened.
If. Might. They weren't encouraging words. Eliora cast Ice Web twice more without looking back. She ducked her head and activated Dash to increase her speed as she rushed out of the Guardian chamber. The sound of ice breaking on steel sent more adrenaline coursing through her body. Kosey had stopped her Spell. Easily.
She should still be faster than the men, but Stamina would be the deciding factor. Wasn't it always in a chase? She hoped they would burn more fighting
than she did running. She hoped the Tracer wore off before they trapped her in a dead end. Hoping for help was useless. They had entered first and traveled deep. No other parties could have caught up.
All she could do was run.
Chapter Fifty "That's it." Kerry sagged to the floor in the Safe Zone. His borrowed
shield became a black ring on his left hand and the chain of his flail vanished, leaving him holding a mace with an off-centered knob on top. "I'm done. No more. Up and down, back and forth, I'm through with it. Is it just me, or does the floor slope up, coming and going?"
Kerry pulled off his helm and dropped it to the ground. It rolled away as he began vigorously scratching the top of his head. "Are there spiders in my hair? I swear I can feel them crawling all over me."
"I'm not opposed to calling it a day. Should be morning outside, I could use a hot breakfast." Felicia began pulling cobwebs off her robe. She wadded them into a ball and stuffed them into her pouch. "Trent?"
Kerry's helmet came to a stop when it hit Trent's boots. He kicked it back towards its owner, "It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet. We could try the fifth floor if the fourth is getting to you."
Even the always willing Dreq rolled his eyes at that. He plopped to his haunches and leaned against Trent's legs with a whimper. He panted, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, and barked gratefully as Trent knelt to fill a bowl with water.
"The fifth floor is at the other end of this one," Kerry said over Dreq's slurping. "The Return Scroll is… What do you know, I have one right here! I don't know why you're so stuck on twenty-four hours anyway. For all we know, the extra XP will last for weeks. We can't spend weeks in here!
"We can't spend weeks in here, Trent!" Kerry repeated before Trent could disagree. "I need sunlight and fresh air in my life. I need to know the bugs that are crawling on me while I sleep are a normal size, easily squished when I roll over. Help me out here, Felicia!"
"We do need a break," Felicia sighed. "Resting in Safe Zones doesn't count. And we won't leave you here by yourself. Don't suggest it!"
That had been what Trent was about to suggest. Stymied by Felicia's order, Trent turned towards the tunnel leading back towards the third floor. Felica and Kerry interpreted the set of his shoulders as Trent gathering an argument for their continued endless battle. They were prepared to counter him and were surprised by his response.
"Someone's coming." His words had barely left his lips when a cloaked figure burst into the
room. A young girl with silver hair and silver eyes, wide with fright, skidded to a halt before she crashed into Trent. She quickly stopped herself and hurried back to set her shoulders against the wall. The two long daggers in her hands came up defensively as the girl's lips were pulled back to reveal her teeth.
"Safe Zone!" Kerry called out. The cornered animal glanced at him, but her eyes flickered back to Trent and her daggers stayed out. "This is a Safe Zone! No need for—"
"Shouldn't be dragging others into our problems, Raven." A chiding voice entered the room just ahead of two men. "You chose your handle well. Ravens always bring bad luck."
An Archer and a Warrior stepped into the light of Felicia's Spell, blinking at the sudden brightness. With sword drawn and arrow nocked, they walked in, dismissing the resting party as harmless and focusing on the girl in the corner.
"Safe Zone!" Kerry stressed, pulling himself to his feet and staring at the readied weapons. "You can't fight here."
"Shouldn't. Not can't, boy," the older of the two men sneered. "Stay out of this. None of your concern."
"Let it go, Kosey!" The girl shifted the points of her daggers to her pursuers. Her eyes stayed on Trent, drifting from the hilts of his swords to his mask. "You can have the gem."
She sheathed one dagger and reached into the pocket of her cloak, pulling out a small grey sphere. She made to toss it to the man she called Kosey but stopped when he spit on the ground.
"Why did you go and do that, Raven? Didn't mind killing you in front of witnesses, but you had to go showing off what shouldn't be seen."
"Don't you know what happens when you fight in a Safe Zone?" Kerry eased closer to Trent, putting himself between Felicia and the newcomers. "It breaks the protection. It will bring every Beast in the Trial down on us!"
"Trent Embra, do you remember me?" It had taken Eliora a moment to dig the masked Swordsman's name out of her memory. "We met on the road to Al'drossford. I was traveling with my aunt."
"I didn't like your brother," Trent said casually. In a confused room filled with the scent of fear and sweat, he stood easy, his steady voice a clear
contrast to Kerry's wobbling one. "I don't think I like these two either." "You're a cocky one, aren't you?" Kosey took a good look at Trent. His
armor was better than rookies usually wore, and his weapons had an aura of violence around them. The three other kids were saplings, but this Warrior was too relaxed to be discounted. "Think your numbers will help? Should have walked away before the girl drew you in."
"We don't have any reason to fight that I can see." Trent shrugged. At his feet Dreq began to growl. "We shouldn't fight here. It's wrong, but if the Archer draws his bowstring, I'll kill him first."
Kosey lived his life as a member of a chartered company in the Wilds. He came to the settled areas of the Kingdom to find fresh blood to bolster his company's numbers in the unending struggle to hold territory. He looked down on Adventurers who farmed Dungeons for the Kingdom's Nobles. The best of them were soft metal in his book.
He had lied to Eliora about his Class and Level. He was a Level 35, split between Tracker and Vanguard. In Bellrise, he expected to have no equals except for a few of the older Guardsmen. He could have cleared this Dungeon by himself and had only brought Eliora along on a whim, a vague sense that she was worth recruiting.
"How did you get ahead of us anyway?" Kosey asked, mostly to buy himself time to think and settle the itch of danger that crept up his back. "Must have been moving fast. Who brings a Dog into a Dungeon?"
Had Trent looked down at the mention of Dreq, Kosey would have slashed at him. Instead, Trent's hands settled on his hilts, and he stepped forward. "You'll be a little tougher than the Archer. He'll die quick. He'll lose a hand if he keeps tugging his string like that."
Mark snatched his left hand away from his weapon, his arrow dissipating as the Mana which created it was cut off. Kosey slapped the younger man's chest with the back of his hand in irritation, almost pricking the Archer's chin with the dagger he held. Mark had been with the company for three years. He had faced worse than a town-bound Adventurer. He shouldn't be intimidated by the Swordsman.
Kosey tried to make his chuckle light, to keep the anger and tension he was feeling hidden but failed. "You convinced me. You and your friends can walk out of here. The girl stays."
An Adventurer faced their own problems in a Dungeon. There were no laws, no expectation to offer aid. Eliora could see her help vanishing with
Kosey's words. "He wants this gem. It's yours if you stand with me!" She tossed the grey sphere to Trent, who caught it without looking. Kosey
followed the round bauble with his eyes, his face darkening. "Alright," he conceded, "you toss me the gem, keep the girl. We all walk
away." "This?" Trent rolled the item in question between his fingers. "You leave,
and I'll hand it to your friend. You need a Return Scroll?" "I'm not leaving without that gem!" Never turn your back to pick up a dropped weapon, and never give up
your weapon because an enemy tells you to. Trent was fairly certain that was the principle Cullen would apply to this situation. Once the gem was in Kosey's hands, the man would be free to act as he pleased. Fear of Eliora, and now Trent, escaping with his prize was all that kept the older man talking.
"Then we fight, the Archer dies, the Safe Zone's protection goes away, and a hundred Beasts attack us all at once. Are you ready?" Trent put the gem in his pouch and drew his swords. He would have attacked right away if they had been farther into the fourth floor. He hated talking like this. The Safe Zone was all that held him in place. He wouldn't break the peace first.
The veins on Kosey's forehead bulged, his knuckles whitened, they gripped his weapons so fiercely.
"Hundreds from this floor. Hundreds more from the third," Kerry gulped, and his shield shimmered into place in his arm. "We're right in the middle. They won't take long to reach us."
"Shut your fat face, lard ass!" Kosey shouted, pointing his sword in Kerry's direction. It was an impotent gesture and he knew it.
"Back up, we're leaving," he hissed at Mark. Backing into the dark, he cast one threat as he sheathed his weapons and took out a Scroll. "This isn't over, boy! You want to live through the next time, you'd better be ready to hand it to me."
Eliora held her breath until the glare of magic from a return scroll being used faded. Even then, she eased her way around for a better view, confirming the tunnel was empty before exhaling and slumping to the ground.
"I'm not fat!" Kerry called at the unoccupied tunnel. "Tell them I'm not fat, Felicia!"
"They're gone, Kerry. Don't worry, I'm sure with a couple a of level-ups
that baby pudge will go away." Felicia turned away from Kerry's indignant scoffing to address Eliora. "You set us up!"
"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to die," Eliora said weakly. "Thank you, though. Especially you, Trent Embra. I don't suppose you'll sell me that cowl now?"
"No, it's not for sale." Trent tugged at his mask. "Your name is Eliora Al —"
"Raven! I'm going by Raven now," Eliora hurriedly kept him from saying her full name. If she thought exposing her identity would keep her safe, she would have used it to hold off Kosey. The fact was, Royalty was not universally loved. Her Guards were far away, and without them her name could bring more trouble than it would solve.
"It would be better to go by Eliora." Felicia clicked her tongue. "Raven is overused. It's practically a cliché."
"It's what I chose." Eliora tossed her head, irritated by Felicia's attitude "How are you called?"
"She's Felicia Ithruen." Kerry's hand settled on his friend's shoulder. "But everyone calls her the Ivy Witch."
Kerry grunted as Felicia's elbow found a hole in his armor. "No one calls me that," she hissed. "But everyone I meet from now on is
going to call you Kerry Moss, the Lard Wall." "I thought it was a good nickname," Kerry grumbled, rubbing his side.
"Ivy and Moss. We will call Trent the Dark Rose and our party, Brambles and Thorns. Why lard? Why does that word keep coming up?"
"The Dark Rose?" Felicia's jaw dropped. "Why would we call Trent that? It's ridiculous!"
"His shirt, you saw the shirt, right?" Kerry gestured towards Trent's arms. "We will have to get him more, but he knows a girl that will embroider them for him. It can be our signature. Or hey! Sewing is your thing, right? You can do it!"
"Excuse me," Eliora said, before Felicia could build up the steam to tell Kerry exactly what she thought of that idea. "You three are a party? A permanent one? Do you have a charter?"
"No charters!" Kerry said, venom dripping from his tongue. "But, yeah, we are. There's four of us, though, can't discount Dreq."
Dreq's tail wagged happily until Eliora said, "You count the Dog? But you think I'm silly because I go by Raven?" It was at that moment that
Dreq's ire moved away from Kerry and settled on the silver-haired girl. "People who pick teammates that turn on them shouldn't judge," Felicia
sniffed. Eliora laughed, leaning back and crossing her fingers behind her head.
"That's fair. It was the rush to clear a new Dungeon. Blinded me. I should have known better. Are you all students at the Academy?"
"She and I were." Kerry rolled his shoulders. "I think we've missed the deadline for the new term. Not that it matters, I suppose."
"Why's that? What are your plans?" No answer. Felicia and Kerry turned to look at Trent. Trent looked back
and scratched his jaw. Eliora saw it all and smiled to herself. Here was her chance. Two
Warriors and a Mage. They needed a Rogue. More than that, they needed direction. They might not accept her lead right away, but with a few suggestions to break the ice, they would fall into line.
Trent would be the deciding factor. She realized it was his presence that drove off Kosey, and Trent that the others looked too. He clearly was uncomfortable holding the reins. They should slip out of his hands and into hers with a light tug.
"Haven't decided yet?" She purred, "Why don't you let me treat you to a meal? Is there a good restaurant in town? I haven't had a chance to explore yet. Unless you intend to keep delving."
"A meal would be good." Felicia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Kerry shuffled his feet, pushing his flail into his belt. "We were talking about going back."
Trent shrugged. His blood still boiled from the confrontation. He looked down at Dreq and the Dog yawned back at him.
"It's settled then!" Eliora clapped her hands and surged to her feet. "The finest restaurant in town! My treat!"
That was her in. Money was not something she lacked. All Adventurers getting started needed a sponsor. The state of Kerry's armor demonstrated that. From sponsor and teammate, it was a short step to leader.
Trent would probably be grateful when she took over. He seemed shy. *
"I said the finest restaurant." Eliora dragged her heels as Kerry led the way into the Guildhall, "Money is no object."
"That's why we're here," Kerry said over his shoulder. "We would head to the Pig for stew on the cheap. I don't think any of the inns have food this time of day."
"The Guild is the only place with a menu in Bellrise," Felicia explained, a little more familiar with what was bothering Eliora. "Everywhere else, you eat what they serve, and they serve at specific times."
"That's strange for a Dungeon town, isn't it?" Eliora had to raise her voice to be heard over the din in the hall. "Adventurers keep their own schedule."
"Not in Bellrise," Felicia called back. "Here, the Academy sets the pace, and students are studying, not eating, this time of day."
"There you are, Meat! I was beginning to think you had died. Another day and I'd have written you off as crow bait."
"Or they should be," Felicia muttered too low to be heard. "What is this jackass doing here?"
"Why aren't you at the Academy?" Kerry was at a loss to suddenly be confronted by a face he knew he would have to see soon. Soon but not right now! He wasn't prepared yet!
Although the room was too crowded to swagger properly, somehow the young man with the longsword at his hip managed, pushing through where he could and sidestepping around those men who shouldn't be offended.
Trent, standing just behind Kerry, felt his hands twitch to his swords at the Warrior's shouted greeting. Another person would have assumed the words were spoken in jest. They would have seen the bright smile on the black-haired Warrior's face and thought he was speaking to a friend.
Trent was different. Trent listened. He heard the contempt and arrogance beneath the words. They caused his hand to curl into a fist. He didn't need an introduction to know this was Jace, the leader of Kerry's chartered party.
"What happened to your armor?" Jace sauntered in front of Kerry and took in the state of his equipment. "Have you been falling down again? Do you know how much it's going to cost to repair… to replace that plate?"
"What do you care?" Kerry's eyes glowered sullenly at Jace's reproach. "I pay for my own equipment. It won't cost you anything."
"I care," Jace said, poking at a rent in Kerry's breastplate, "because we
have a reservation to enter the Dungeon tomorrow at noon. If you can't get it replaced by then, you'll hold up the party. I won't have that, Meat. They say the Dungeon is paying silver! You will go in naked before I let you hold us up."
"And what's this?" Jace slapped the ball of Kerry's flail where it hung at his waist. "Did you waste money on a mace? Your job is to draw aggro and take hits. What do you need a mace for?"
Trent missed Kerry's explanation that his weapon wasn't a mace. His mind was buzzing with a remembered memory. He was looking at an open field from atop a wagon bed, and behind him, Senior Guardsmen were talking while Recruits tried to sleep.
Cullen said Trent listened too well. He listened and remembered. It was hard to fault him for it, but it had caused problems in the past. Trent could not hear Kerry now because his ears were full of Cullen telling a story, or as Trent understood it, imparting lessons to the Guardsman.
"You've all seen the kind of face I'm talking about. It's the type that screams for a punch the way a parched man begs for water. Personally, I've never been one to deny a thirsty man a drink. A good man never holds out when another is in need. Laid the bastard out flat…"
Trent was overjoyed to finally see an example of the type of face Cullen had been talking about. He had been afraid he would miss it if he ever encountered it because Cullen had been sparse on what the man looked like. Trent assumed he had left out the details because Cullen had been talking to Senior Guardsmen after all. They were experienced men who didn't need things spelled out for them like Trent did.
Fortunately for Jace, Felicia was nearly as good at observing as Trent was at listening. She caught Trent's wrist before he could draw back his arm.
"This isn't the Dungeon." She leaned in and put her mouth next to Trent's ear. "Not saying he doesn't deserve it… just not in town. Not where Guardsmen can see, at least."
Trent nodded and relaxed his fist. "Got it. This is an in the dark, from behind, with a stick so you don't get scum on your hands, situation. Thank you," Trent whispered back to Felicia.
He patted the hand that held his sleeve gratefully. He shot a glance at the green orb on the Questing Pillar. He had almost broken the truce. It had seemed like the right thing to do, and it was, according to the doctrine of Cullen that Trent strove to live his life by. It was good to have clarification on an aspect where doctrine parted from decent rules of the hunt.
Felicia wasn't sure why she was being thanked. She kept hold of Trent's wrist but soon it was to restrain the slap she wanted to unleash. She had never liked Jace. Knowing what she knew now, and hearing him berate Kerry, he became more despicable by the moment.
"Get rid of it. Sell it and donate the money to the group purse." Jace rubbed his face with both hands, the picture of a frustrated mentor dealing with an idiotic student. "The last thing we need is you swinging a flail in tight quarters. You are more likely to hit us than a Beast. Stick to what you are good at. Think meaty thoughts and stand still."
Felicia couldn't take it anymore. "Is this how your party leader talks to all his team, Kerry? I don't know that I want to read the charter, much less sign it, if that's the case.
She emphasized the word charter to remind Kerry why he had been nervously tapping the pouch, which held three gold, ever since they had left the Dungeon. Kerry's head jerked, and the edges of his mouth twitched at the thought of slamming those circles of gold on the table and watching Jace's smug face fall. Kerry didn't actually break into a grin, though. Jace might be losing a meat shield, but three gold were sure to buy plenty of consolation.
Kerry would miss the coins. He had fought hard not to grow attached. He had known naming them was a mistake. He was going to hate seeing Yellow, Shiny, and Precious in Jace's grubby mitts. He hoped they would understand and that Jace would trade them to a worthy owner soon.
"You want to join my party, Felicia?" Jace peered over Kerry's shoulder,
his expression blank. The sight of Felicia without her customary floppy hat, a rare thing in the Academy, brought a gleam to his eye. Many young Adventurers had tried to catch the half-elf unguarded. It was a face worth looking at.
"Holly won't like it, but I can bring her around." The charm was back. Jace was smooth smiles and gracious words as he stepped around Kerry. "Are these two with you as well? Kerry said he had found someone with Detect Traps. We can use a spotter. I was only expecting one, though."
"We are, and we both have the Skill." Eliora took the chance to connect herself more closely to the group she was trying to join. It didn't take sixteen years of royal intrigue to see the undercurrents at play, or to recognize that Felicia was too forthright to spar with this Warrior.
"Raven," she introduced herself, "and this is Trent. You lead a chartered party. May we see the terms?"
"Of course." To Jace's credit, he didn't stare into Eliora's hood long. A single glance upon hearing her voice was all he allowed himself. "I'm here checking for new Quests. The others are holding a table at the Pig. Shall we join them?"
"The Pig? That's a tavern. I imagine it's noisy this time of day," Eliora countered, ignoring the swirling chaos in the Guild. "And the light is probably poor as well, yes? It's a simple signature. We can borrow the corner of a counter to sign. Cleaner signatures that way."
She hooked her arm through Jace's and led the unresisting Warrior towards the Guild Attendant's station. There was no way she would sign another person's charter, but given what she had seen so far, neither would Felicia or Trent.
"You do have the charter with you, right?" Eliora slid a copper to a disapproving Guild Attendant who did not appreciate her commandeering his section of the counter. The man frowned at the coin but didn't chase her away and slipped the copper out of sight with a sniff.
It was an art, one Eliora was good at. She implied with tone and body language that a responsible leader would never let an important document get far from his control. Jace responded to the tilt of her head and the lilt of her voice by reaching into his belt pouch and removing a much-folded bundle of papers.
"I always have it with me." Jace smoothed the papers out and flipped to the last page. Four signatures and a circular drawing at the bottom were all the paper contained. Eliora began to get a picture of what was going on by watching the hurried way Jace concealed the particulars of the charter. How bad were the terms that they had to be hidden?
"We are an established team, I'm afraid," Jace said, clasping his hands. His eyebrows drew together apologetically. "The leadership roles have already been taken. We do have plans to expand. Earlier signatories will be the first considered when sub-leader positions open up. Do you have a quill? Should I borrow one?"
Sub-leaders? An archaic term. Teams nowadays preferred lieutenant. It confirmed rank without any implying inferiority. This Jace was really a piece of work. He hadn't even asked her what her Class and Level were. Eliora almost blew her careful leading of the man by grabbing the charter to study the terms. She would never sign, but she wanted to find out if what she imagined was as bad as what was written.
"Before they sign," Kerry gently nudged Eliora away from the counter and took her place, "you should point out how reasonable the escape clause is."
"Just three coins," Kerry's hand slapped down on the charter, preventing Jace from tugging it away. "Three coins, and you can't be stopped from examining the charter any time you would like. It's written in bold print on the first page. Members always have access. I will demonstrate that right, now."
Kerry pushed Jace's hand away. "Three coins, just like these three. You place them in the circles like this. One, two, three. Then announce your intention to quit. The words don't matter. You can say what you want. For
instance." Kerry sucked in air until his lungs felt like bursting, and shouted, "I quit, you lying coward. May Infernal Vultures eat your liver, you sheep fornicating bastard!"
"You've been practicing that for days, haven't you?" Felicia hid her face in her hands. "Is that the best you could come up with?"
"Don't spoil this for me, Felicia!" Kerry lifted a finger in her direction without lowering his voice. He could be heard across the Guild and all eyes turned his way. "I have seen this man cast lustful eyes at cows…"
"Cows and sheep? Why were you at a farm together?"
"…Shut up, Felicia… I've watched him… him…damn it. I did practice for days and you ruined it. What kind of friend are you?"
"Are you two done? I hope you don't regret this, Kerry!" The blood of anger and embarrassment that flooded Jace's face stole the arrogant elegance he always tried to present.
Jace snatched up the charter with one hand. His sudden motion sent the coins rolling away. His other hand grabbed for the escaping gold pieces. His eyes went wide when Eliora's nimble fingers plucked them away. "What do you think you are doing? That's my coin!"
"Is it? What does the charter say?" Eliora began to juggle the three coins as she stepped backward. "If it says pay, then yes, they are yours. But if it only says to put three gold in the circle, then they still belong to Kerry. Easy to clear up, show us the charter."
"We will need a reliable witness. How about a Guardsman? That one should do." Eliora ducked behind Trent. "Excuse me, Sir, can you settle a dispute for us?"
Jace plowed into Trent as he chased Eliora. Trent's feet didn't move so much as an inch, and Jace fell backward, clutching his bruised shoulder. His bruised ego was what sent his hand towards his sword.
"If that blade leaves the sheath, I'll make you eat it." It was hard to say what froze Jace in place, the words or the hopeful, cheerful way they were delivered. It sounded like the masked man was offering to do him a favor and was eager for the opportunity, not threatening his health.
"After that, I'll arrest you both for disturbing the peace." Sergeant Gaffney, off duty but still in uniform, got a good look at Trent as he came over. "Strike that. You, I will throw in lockup for a day." Gaffney pointed a finger at Trent as a space opened around the quarreling group. That finger shifted to Jace. "You, I will have buried. Doesn't the Academy teach students to pick your fights these days? This one will eat you for lunch."
Seeing Jace release his sword, Gaffney nodded. Then, not pleased to be called to work when he was popping in for a bite on his way home, he gave his best no-nonsense frown as he asked, "What's the problem here? Make it fast!"
"No problem," Jace choked out as he stuffed the charter into his pouch without folding it. There was no way he could let a town official see it. He had had to bribe a Guild Attendant to have it written up. One look from a Guardsman would see him hauled away to face the Duke's justice in Al'drossford. "It's a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding, my foot!" Eliora would have continued, but Felicia grabbed her sleeve to silence her.
"My friend here was just saying that Trent was twice the Swordsman this one will ever be." Felicia jerked a thumb towards Jace and sent a smile fluttering at Gaffney, "It caused some hard feelings."
"Keep your arguments to the ring, and keep 'em bloodless," Gaffney said gruffly, a knowing light in his eye. He frowned at Eliora. "And you! Guardsmen aren't at your beck and call for petty disputes."
With that, Gaffney spun on his heel and stalked away. Jace glowered at the group, then followed stiffly.
"Do you have Quests to turn in?" The line in front of the disapproving
Guild Attendant had disappeared with the arrival of a Guard Sergeant. The man's cloudy face had cleared at the chance to hear some gossip about these events while still handling business.
Trent held his hand up and stepped to the counter. "I do, but… I'll need more space."
"Come with me, young man!" Waving his hand, the attendant led Trent towards a back room.
Kerry stopped Dreq from following, nearly earning himself a bite, and called out, "We'll take Dreq and hold a table, Trent. Don't worry! You'd like that, huh pup, getting some food?"
Kerry and Felicia pulled the unhappy Dog and a smoldering Eliora to the common area and found a table near the back. Eliora held her tongue the whole way. No one missed the steam that rolled off her, though. Her anger pushed people from their path, making the walk to the commons much easier than was normal in the Guildhall.
However, once seated, Eliora could not hold it in. She leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, "What was that? Three gold is an outrageous price! It's practically illegal! And if that is the only illegal clause, I'll eat my cloak! I thought this was a lawful territory."
"It is," Felicia said calmly, holding up a hand to beckon the waitress. "The Al'dross are as fair as Nobles get, but Adventurers do not report other Adventurers while standing in the Guildhall. It's not done."
"So that's it? That snake gets away with it?" Eliora fumed, "How is that right?"
"Get away with it? I thought he would." Kerry stared at Felicia with new- found admiration. "I had planned to spread the word quietly. But you? That was pure brilliance. Did you and Gaffney talk about it beforehand? When did you find the time?"
The waitress arrived. Felicia ordered a round of drinks and requested a
menu, waiting for the women to leave earshot before answering, "Thank the Sergeant. I just piled on. I wouldn't have thought of it myself."
"I missed something," Eliora relaxed her clenched fists and tapped at the table. "What did I miss?"
"Jace is proud of his place in the Academy." Felicia's lips curled upwards. "Top Warrior every year he's attended. And that sword he was wearing is new. The senior students just got back from a field exercise. I imagine Jace won the blade."
"He didn't buy it, that's for sure." Kerry cracked his knuckles and muttered, "Not when I was in the Dungeon, unable to fill the communal purse for him."
"So, when the Sergeant said Trent would eat the arrogant jerk for lunch, and you said Trent was twice the swordsman…" Pride Eliora could understand. Playing off pride was an old tactic of court politics. She did not expect to see such underhanded tricks here. "You talk as if the Sergeant did it intentionally."
"Gaffney is an old hand. He knows Adventurers," Kerry said, craning his neck to spot the waitress, who still hadn't brought their drinks though almost a whole minute had passed. "He knows Jace won't be able to stomach a taunt like that."
"Doesn't that mean we'll have to fight him on his terms, on grounds he picks?" Eliora bit her lower lip? "Is that wise? Wouldn't reporting him—"
"Not in the Guildhall, not over this. This is personal," Kerry interrupted, slapping the table as he growled.
Kerry missed the "we" in Eliora's words, but Felicia did not. Her eyes narrowed at the Assassin casually including herself in the group. She didn't comment on it. "When Jace arrives, he'll think he's ready. He will tell this story to his friends and gloss over the fear he felt when Trent threatened him. Holly and Silas will build up his confidence and egg him on. They won't be subtle."
"And when they come…" Kerry rapped on the table and spoke like he was trying to convince himself. "If we can, we should try and get Trent to spare them. They're a bunch of bastards, but they don't deserve to die."
Chapter Fifty-One Kerry's ominous and doubt-filled comment caused a moment of silence
to fall on the table, and while it went on, the waitress deposited their drinks along with a sheet of paper listing the day's menu. She tossed a bone under the table for Dreq, on the house, and the Dog thanked her with a yip. The silence stretched out as the two-legged party members sipped their drinks and passed the menu around.
Trent was a long time coming, and when he took his seat, the air got heavier. He thought it was his fault though he couldn't say why. Felicia cast a guilty look Trent's way, undecided as to whether her earlier words had been a set up for Trent or for Jace. Eliora pursed her lips, and tugged the hood of her cloak, considering how she could take control of a group that seemed to fear their party leader.
Kerry mostly wondered if Trent would hold Jace's arms while he hit the prick. Did he even need the help? He had more XP saved than he had earned in six months at the Academy. He would be able to reach Level 10 easily once he had a quiet moment to spend the accumulated Experience. It would take him days to allocate all the Free Attribute Points he would get in a way that would not overwhelm him.
That turned his thoughts to a game that was played in the Academy. He lost track of what was going on, only coming out of his fog to order a plate when the waitress returned to collect their orders. Kerry chose that moment to speak. He squinted to draw Felicia's attention and knocked his knuckles on the table. "Thirty!"
Felicia blinked blankly at first before she caught on to Kerry's meaning. She returned Kerry's squint and folded her fingers together on the table. "With or without your weapon? In that armor?"
"With my weapon, of course." Kerry rolled his eyes. "New, better armor."
"Standard deployment. Twenty Warriors, five Rogues, Four Mages, and a Healer?" Kerry nodded at the question, leaning back from the table to let the waitress place a bowl of stew in front of him.
Felicia accepted her own plate and gestured at Kerry with her fork, saying, "Defend!" before tucking into her meal.
Watching the rest dig in, Kerry mournfully pushed a hunk of meat around his bowl. He sighed as he continued the game he had started. "First three warriors fall quickly, they don't expect the chain of my flail to grow."
"They adapt," Felicia said around a mouthful of vegetables. "Two Mages cast Firebolt, the third… say, Earthen Spike. Rogues split to get behind you."
"Firebolts I catch on my shield." Kerry waved his spoon in the air. "Earthen Spike is a slow Spell; I avoid it. I catch two of the Rogues off-guard with a swing, and in a moment of brilliance, throw a third on the spike. I charge the other two and bash them with my shield."
"Excuse me," Eliora tapped her plate with her fork, "what are you talking about?"
"It's a game," Felicia covered her lips with a napkin, embarrassed by the chewed vegetables that tried to spill from her mouth. "How many Level 1s can you defeat in an hour. Kerry is currently cheating, and he is still about to be overrun."
"How am I cheating?" He had taken the opportunity to shovel stew into his mouth and was not at all embarrassed by the gravy that began running down his chin. "You're confusing cheating with winning!"
"You say Charge and Bash like you have the Skills," Felicia challenged. "Unless you picked up new Skills when I wasn't looking, you don't."
"Did I say I used a Skill? I don't remember that. You can hit someone with a shield, and charge without Skills!" Gravy spilled across the table as he defended himself, gesturing with his spoon like it was a club.
"Then the Rogues Dodge your charge and use Backstab." Felicia dabbed at gravy, which flecked her face. "Warriors close in from behind. The Mages cast Firebolt again."
"Level 1 Rogues with Backstab, I don't think so," Kerry complained. "And you just said they were using Dodge! One Skill per is standard!"
"You can dodge without a Skill," Felicia mimicked Kerry's earlier tone. "Consulting the judges on Backstab." She held up a finger and stared at the ceiling. "Judges say it's possible, attack is allowed!"
"Judges were bribed," Kerry muttered, chewing a piece of carrot. "Fine, I use my flail, and lengthening the chain, wrap it around a Rogues leg. I use him to block the Spells before flinging him into the oncoming Warriors!"
"Are you strong enough for that?"
"I will be at Level 10!"
"And your Basic Flail Skill will be the same regardless of your Level!"
Kerry saw the announcement of "Attack failed!" coming long before he finished saying, "My Basic Flail is at Level 3."
The argument grew from there. Trent and Eliora ate bemused as insults, challenges, and rebuttals flew across the table. Kerry claimed one-hit instant kills, and Felicia swatted them out of the air, restoring downed Level Ones with the sentence, "You're forgetting the Healer!"
Mage Spells slipped off Kerry's shield. Felicia removed the protective gear with an axe blow. Kerry tried to throw a Warrior across the field to knock out the Spell Casters. Felicia called for a Strength check and then calmly had the wind blow the Warrior back into Kerry when his numbers didn't add up.
It soon dissolved into bargaining.
"Ten at most, Kerry, and that with no Healer and one Mage!"
"Okay, I admit, thirty was reaching, but you've got to give me twenty. Two per level is fair!"
"It's fair if you can defeat two opponents your own Level. Can you?"
Kerry tapped his empty bowl with his spoon. "Fifteen then. Ten Warriors, three Rogues, and two Casters."
"The Rogues trip you after the Mages blind you with Flash Ball. Once you are on the ground they pile on and pummel you." Felicia was merciless in her assault.
"Oh, come on! It's a game, Felicia!" Kerry whined, slapping the table. "Why are you making it so hard? Back me up here, Trent, tell her I can beat fifteen!"
Trent had been staring at his empty plate. He looked up at Kerry's demand for assistance. "You shouldn't play this game here."
"See, Trent believes in me… wait, what? Why not?" Kerry fumbled the spoon he thrust at Felicia and nearly dropped it.
"Because you are announcing to the entire bar all of your strengths and weaknesses," Eliora said in a hushed tone. She hadn't wanted to point it out herself, but now that the topic had been brought up, she was quick to bring an end to the game.
Eliora's gaze flickered to Trent, wondering if he had figured out like she had, the purpose of this game. Students competed in Academies. She was impressed that one of those students had come up with a way to get their fellows to spill all their tactics in such an innocuous way.
Admiration fled as Eliora caught sight of Trent's face. His hood was still up, but he had removed his mask to eat. She had never seen him without the silver covering before. Seeing his plainly Al'rashian features and violet eyes now, she settled back in her chair, words of reproach changing to a gasp.
Trent tightened up at the sharp inhalation, uncertain of what prompted it.
He cast a puzzled look at Eliora before saying, "She's right."
Felicia blushed and hunched her shoulders. She had been so caught up in the normalcy of the game she had forgotten where they were. The wordplay that students used to brag during breaks was usually played amongst friends and never in the open. Not since the last team competition, at least. She knew better than to play it in the Guild.
"Maybe she is." Kerry slouched in his chair. "I could still take fifteen."
"I'm tired," Trent announced suddenly. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. "I think I'll leave now."
"Ah." Eliora shivered and came back from whatever thoughts had sealed her lips. She half stood, saying, "So soon? I was hoping we could chat a bit. Get to know each other."
"Tomorrow. I have things to do before I can sleep. Things that can't wait." Trent eyes pushed the cloaked girl back into her chair. He reached into his pouch and withdrew the pearl which had spilt apart Eliora's party. "I thought about giving this back to you."
Trent tossed the pearl into the air, and eyes all around the room watched it go up. Trent snatched it out of the air and tucked it away. "I've decided to keep it. If that's a problem, there's no need to get to know one another."
"It's not," Eliora said hurriedly. "A problem, that is. But are you sure you must leave? We have a chance to collaborate. I've been trying to find a trustworthy team to work with. I haven't had much luck yet."
"You should talk with them," Trent gestured at Kerry and Felicia. His eyes focused on the far corner of the room, and he seemed to forget the three seated in front of him.
"We were hoping you would want to keep working together, Trent." Felicia tried to draw his attention back to the group. "We can go with you to settle your errands and talk afterward."
"In the morning," Trent said abruptly. "Or later. We need to split our earnings from the Trial. We can talk then, but I need a few hours alone. You can meet me… Do you remember the red boulder near where they held the Burning, Kerry? I'll be there later this evening."
"Why not stay at an inn?" Kerry said to Trent's back as he started to walk away. "Inns are more comfortable than fields."
"The boulder, in a few hours," Trent replied without looking. He tapped the side of his thigh so Dreq would know his words were not meant for him, and the Dog left the cover of the table to rush to Trent's side. "Don't come too early."
Slipping through the crowd with Dreq, Trent heard Kerry mumble about how grass was no substitute for a bed, and he tugged his mask into place to cover his grin. Kerry, at least, would be coming. Trent found himself looking forward to the company. Trent's grin slipped as he realized what Kerry's complaint implied.
Were inns places with beds? Beds that anyone could sleep in? He had seen signs and walked by quite a few buildings that said they were inns on his way to Bellrise. Could he have been sleeping on a soft bed all this time? Why hadn't anyone told him that?
Stepping out of the Guild and into the street, Trent tried not to think about warm blankets and soft straw-filled mattresses. It had been months since he last slept indoors. He was used to rolling up in a fur on the ground, but he could remember beds.
He had been much smaller when the servant's quarters in Michael's chambers had been assigned to him. The last time he had slept under a roof, he was still under Level 1. He might not fit in a bed. Trent shook his head irritably. Of course, he would! The bed in the Keep's infirmary was large enough. Trent had trouble climbing out of it. It would probably be just about the right size now.
It was midday, and the streets were filled. Dreq pranced beside him as Trent made his way towards the gates. The Dog used eyes and nose to
examine the busy thoroughfare while Trent walked like a man on a mission, his neck stiff, eyes glued to the road in front of him. He stopped twice. Once at a stall to purchase a handful of potions and again at a woodcutter.
With potions, a bundle of firewood, and three rounds of wood safely secured, Trent nodded to the Guards and exited Bellrise. He left the hard- packed road and set off across the fields.
Dreq bounced through the grass, chasing bugs and birds. It bothered him that Trent walked so stiffly. He knew better than to question the pace. Dreq kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the not quite leisurely stroll. When traveling with Trent, such simple activities were rare.
The destination Trent had picked was not far from the gates. A mile, maybe less, a distance quickly covered by ground-swallowing strides. Finding the location where the Festival of the Fall had been held was a simple matter. Grass, trampled flat by the feet of Farmers, and signs of temporary structures were everywhere. The land was still recovering from the festivities of six days ago. An expert Tracker was not needed to find evidence of celebration.
The grass around the red boulder still stood tall and waved in the wind. No one had come near it during the day's activities. The Farmers hadn't avoided it specifically. It was more like the rock was set aside for other purposes, ones not connected with the festival.
Trent set up his camp fifty feet from the boulder at the base of a small hill. He dug a pit with Earth Manipulation, lined the edge with stones, and placed the wood rounds he had purchased around it. Anyone watching, had they seen him with the others in the Guild, would assume he was setting out seats for his friends and wonder which of the group would be left without a chair.
Trent tossed his bundle of firewood beside the pit. He made no move to light a fire. He had bought the wood on a whim. It saved him the trouble of gathering sticks from the forest, which was another four or five miles away, but the day was still warm.
"When they get here, stay behind me, don't get involved." Trent swung his arms and rolled his wrists. "It might be best for you to hide somewhere."
Dreq sat with his back to the camp site and boulder. His head tilted to the side as he asked, "Who… is… coming? Kerry?"
"No," Trent settled his hands on his hilts, "the ones from the Trial."
"Spotted us, huh?" A man's voice, followed by the man himself, stepped out from behind the boulder. "That why you put on the show, tossing the seed into the air like that. It was to let us know you had it. Cocky and brave, not a good combination."
A second man popped up on top of the rock, a bow in his hand. "He threatened me, Kosey. Let's kill him and be done with it."
"Hold on." Kosey lifted a hand to stop the impatient Mark. "We're recruiting, remember. A little talk won't hurt anything. This one is interesting."
Kosey plucked a long piece of grass and placed it in the corner of his mouth. "They called you Trent, right? You feel like a little chat, Trent? Don't mind my partner. You scared him in the Dungeon, and he is holding a grudge."
Kosey took Trent's silence for assent and continued speaking in a lazy drawl, "Scared me some, too. That makes you interesting. Then I see you here, talking to your Dog."
His eyes shifted to Dreq who had slunk behind Trent and was growling with teeth bared. "Lots of men talk to their dogs, not often you see the Dog talk back. That makes you worth talking to. Makes me glad I didn't have Mark shoot you in the back once we were out of sight of the Guards."
Kosey paused, giving Trent a chance to chime in. When Trent remained silent, the corners of Kosey's eyes crinkled in irritation. "You led us here. You must have a plan, but an arrow in the back would have sorted you out. Didn't you think of that?"
"It wouldn't have worked out for you," Trent answered, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "You're not as far from the Guards as you think you are."
That straightened Kosey from his easy slouch. He looked up at Mark whose head swiveled, trying to spot anyone approaching. When the archer shook his head, Kosey's face twisted into an unfriendly grin.
"You had me there for a second." He spat the stalk of grass he had been chewing. "Thought we had walked into a trap. You're good at bluffing. But we're done with all that now." Kosey sneered. "You can hand me the seed, and we can talk about you joining the group I work for. It's that, or we take the seed and leave your body here for the crows to eat and the Farmers to find."
"It's a seed?" Trent's right hand left his hilt and touched his pouch. "What do you grow with it?"
"It's the threats, isn't it?" Kosey sighed. "I'm off my game. The damned Dungeon got me all worked up and turned out to be just a tease. It's made me unfriendly. I frightened off the girl, and now I've got you willing to fight for a marble you don't know the worth of.
"Should have listened to you." Kosey looked up at Mark. "Never thought I'd say that. Go ahead and kill him. The seed and a new set of swords will cheer me up. Then we can focus on what we came here for."
Mark didn't need to be told twice. He was pulling his bow and was forming an arrow before Kosey finished speaking. One arrow became five as he released it, and Mark's lips spread in a vicious grin as his shot sped towards Trent.
Mark gasped and doubled over as a burning pain ripped through his abdomen. He was grateful for the hand which gently relieved him of his bow, freeing his own hands to clutch at his stomach. Blood flowed over his fingers, and Mark grunted as his legs trembled beneath him.
The second line of fire at the back of his neck was less intense. Mark barely felt the blade that severed his head. He felt nothing at all as his face
bounced off the boulder and rolled to the ground below. He wouldn't feel anything, ever again.
Kosey was bending to pluck a new blade of grass when five arrows slammed into the dirt. The dirt, and not the body of a certain cocky Swordsman. One moment Trent had been standing there with nowhere to run, and the next, he was gone. Kosey was left staring at five arrows still quivering from the force of their delivery. All five vanished as the head of the Archer who fired them rolled over to nudge Kosey's boot.
It would have frozen many men in place. It did stall Kosey briefly. However, the sound of a sword returning to its sheath and the creak of a bow being drawn stirred him. Reflexes honed by long years traveling the Wilds had Kosey spinning as he drew his sword and long knife. His blades flashed, cutting three arrows from the air and Kosey rapidly stepped back.
Three more arrows followed the first volley, and another three came on the tail of those. All six of those were swatted down by Kosey's weapons. A trickle of sweat ran down the man's face at the sudden exertion. A flicker of motion at his feet had Kosey sidestepping to avoid the Dog who lunged for his hamstring, and Kosey sent Dreq tumbling away with a kick.
Dreq huffed as he skidded across the ground. Kosey growled and would have finished the pup, but another volley of arrows put him back on the defensive.
On top of the boulder, standing over the body of the slain Archer, whose bow he was using, Trent hissed in appreciation at Kosey's swift display of expertise. He couldn't have matched it. Arrow's Flight, the Skill Trent had gained when he leveled Survivalist, permitted him to avoid the Archer's attack. 200 SP and 100 MP had shot Trent back along the path of the wooden missile and allowed him to bury his sword in Mark's gut.
However, Trent was now rethinking his decision to confront this duo he had spotted in the Guild. His Mana was almost spent, and Kosey had not been so much as nicked by his created arrows. Judging from the way the man had deflected or cut every projectile launched at him, Kosey was not someone Trent could defeat blade to blade.
With his hands full and his enemy close, Trent wouldn't be able to drink a Mana restorative. Kosey was fast. His swordplay, at least, was faster than Trent's. Trent had the sinking feeling it might be time to find out if Kosey was a faster runner as well.
Both Kosey and Trent jumped as a meteor slammed into the ground between them. Shrapnel of dirt and rocks pinged off Trent's mask and had Kosey shielding his eyes. A cloud of dust filled the area around the boulder where Trent had chosen to set his failed trap, and for a moment, the combatants were shrouded from each other.
When the dust cleared, neither had moved. The sudden explosion had been so unexpected, they weren't able to respond to it. The third man who had appeared had no such trouble. He wore the black and silver of an Al'dross Guardsman and moved with the prowling steps of a predator. His broad shoulders could be compared to the boulder Trent stood on, but the more likely comparison would be to the ridiculously large weapon that had apparently fallen from the sky to interrupt the fight.
Sergeant Cullen hawked and spit as he wrapped a hand around Peacemaker's haft and lifted the weapon free. "Excuse me, dropped my axe. Hope I didn't spoil anything."
Chapter Fifty-Two Kosey lowered his weapons at the sight of a Guardsman's uniform. He
licked dust-covered lips and shuddered at the way the man lifted the battle axe with one hand. "You're just in time, sir. This man stole from me and murdered my companion. I'll swear out a complaint."
"Lots of Adventurers turning to the Guard today." Cullen inspected the edge of Peacemaker and wiped the dirt off it with a cloth. "Unusual. Normally I have to drag you all in to make a complaint."
With that said, Cullen stored his axe and turned his back to Kosey. "You've gotten lazy since you left, Runt. You should have looted the body and kicked it down for disposal by now. Are you picking up bad habits?"
Trent tucked his acquired bow behind his back, shifting guiltily on his feet. "No, Sergeant. I was just surprised."
"Why's that? You were obviously expecting me. Get to work, Runt. I do not have all day!" Trent bent to rifle through the dead Archer's possessions and Cullen turned to address the stunned Kosey. "You still here? Adventurers from the Wilds should be better at telling which way the wind is blowing."
Ten or more feet separated Cullen from Kosey. The Adventurer stepped back as if the Sergeant was looming over him. "You two know each other?"
"You're smarter than I gave you credit for." Cullen cracked his knuckles and sneered. "Or good at faking it. Good enough to trick the Red Pussy into sending you here, but not actually smart enough to keep out of trouble."
"Red… I think you mean Red Tiger." Kosey's mind was a mess trying to keep up with the ever-changing situation that did not seem to be shifting in his direction. "You know who sent me, then you should—"
"Runt!" Cullen yelled sharply, "Do I ever say anything I don't mean?" Kosey flinched as the Swordsman literally kicked Mark's body off the
boulder and then jumped down himself. The cold-blooded action was distinctly at odds with the way Trent hemmed and hawed, attempting to come up with the right response to Cullen's question.
"The answer your looking for is, 'No, Sergeant,'" Cullen snarled. "You're definitely back-sliding, Runt!"
Kosey's weapons were slapped out of his hands and a finger jabbed him in the chest. He hadn't seen Cullen move, but suddenly he was disarmed, and
the man towered over him. "You go back and tell your Red Tiger exactly what I called him!" Hot
breath washed over Kosey's face as Cullen leaned over him. "Tell him Cullen of Al'drossford said if he wants to keep looking for talent here, he had better send politer envoys."
"And don't lie." Cullen softened his tone and clapped a hand on Kosey's shoulder. "You tell the Tiger exactly what happened. He might let you live if you're honest."
"Now, get lost!" Cullen roared, shoving Kosey backward. The Sergeant did not watch the man go. He dismissed him from his thoughts, confident that the member of the Red Tiger Company would keep running till he was safely back in the Wilds. He probably would not stop running until he was with his company again, which, considering he had left his weapons laying on the ground, would probably be smart.
Trent was staring at the body of the man he had killed when Cullen's eyes found him. Cullen took a deep breath as he ordered the words he always offered to Recruits after they first killed a man. "It was you or him, Runt. Are you sorry to be alive?"
"I didn't mean to kill him," Trent said in a small voice. "His armor should have stopped most of the blow. I probably could have shot the other one if he hadn't died so quickly."
"You cut off his head, Trent," Cullen's eyebrows drew together. Trent sounded more curious than distraught. "That tends to kill most people."
"I only did that because he was already dying," Trent replied quickly in a defensive tone. "His armor was useless!"
"You aren't upset about killing a man?" "Of course, I am." Trent shrugged. "Wounded, he was a burden, but dead,
he didn't distract the other one at all. Why did he die? Was his Constitution so low?"
Cullen scrubbed the back of his head with one hand. This scene wasn't playing out how he thought it would. "There are Scholars who can answer that question. Men who have dedicated their lives figuring out formulas, from how Armor Ratings and Constitution work when protecting the Awakened to what it takes to break them. I'm not one of them. Just keep in mind that if you don't want to kill a man, you shouldn't stick a sword in him. Not in his gut, at least. Try the shoulder next time."
Trent nodded absently and filed the information away with everything
else Cullen had ever told him. Once the training had been properly digested, he squared his shoulders and lifted his head. "I'm ready, Sergeant."
Again, Cullen was taken aback by Trent's words. "Ready for what, Runt?"
Cautiously, Trent lifted his mask and pushed his cowl back. "Aren't you going to yell at me?"
"Blood and Ash!" Cullen spit angrily. "Is that why you think I'm here? I do more than yell, Runt. I was fuckin' worried about you. Gods know why! You test every bit of my patience. I've half a mind to kick you back to Al'drossford!"
Trent relaxed as the familiar bellow hit him then stiffened again at the mention of going back. "I can't go back, Sergeant! I have to go west!"
Cullen threw his hands in the air and strode to where Trent had laid out his camp. "Bury the body and get the fire going, Runt! Don't forget to pick up that sword. We have things to discuss." He tossed a packet over his shoulder. "And sprinkle that on the corpse before you cover it."
Trent hurriedly retrieved the packet and rushed to do as he was told. Cullen plopped down on a round of wood and watched, sparing a second to dig out his pipe. His eyes followed Trent and the Dog that scampered after him while the boy created a hole in which to roll the body. The Sergeant winced when Trent poured out all the corpse-dissolving powder.
He clamped his lips around his pipe and puffed furiously, the smoke forming a cloud above his head. That powder was expensive, and a pinch was all it took to speed up decomposition. Thinking of how Trent expected to be yelled at, Cullen kept the correction to himself. Maybe it was for the best. The last thing anyone needed was for a Farmer or child to dig up the body while working the field.
With Earth Manipulation doing most of the work, Trent was quick to finish his task. Afternoon sunlight hit his dark hair and drew out the blue highlights as he walked to where Cullen waited. He sat on a second wood round and gestured for Dreq to claim the third. He folded his hands in his lap and met the Sergeant's glare.
"I've known lots of Warriors that grew their hair long, and even a few that braided it with ribbons," Cullen said after he had studied Trent for a few heartbeats. "Didn't think you were the fancy type, Runt."
Trent reached up and tugged self-consciously on his shoulder-length hair. "I keep meaning to cut it. There never seems to be time."
Trent's hand moved to his belt and drew out his Harvesting knife. He lifted it only to be stopped by Cullen's bark.
"You'll make a mess of it doing it yourself!" Trent didn't resist when the Sergeant took the blade from his hand and
moved to stand behind him. He didn't flinch as he saw the sharp blade approach the side of his head out of the corner of his eye. Soft, fine hair began to fall all around as Cullen trimmed and sliced.
Cullen grunted around the stem of his pipe. It wasn't the first haircut he had ever given but damned if he could remember a Recruit so trusting that they didn't wince at the Sergeant's hands wielding a knife so close to their skin.
"It's my fault, I suppose," Cullen mumbled, cutting the hair around Trent's ears. "Recruits that don't already have them get the Trim and Shave Charms when their kits are issued."
Cullen could practically see Trent's ears twitch at the mention of Charms he should have. "Your training was improvised. You couldn't wear the armor or lift the weapons of a Recruit, so we made do, and a few things fell through the cracks."
Cullen separated the beginnings of a ponytail with a single slice, and the blue-ribbon Trent often forgot he wore fluttered to the ground. "You were so bleeding small. You wouldn't know it looking at you now. I blink, and you've got a new set of weapons. Turn around, and you've outgrown the armor you're wearing. Where'd you get this set anyway? It didn't come out of the Bellrise Trial."
Trent's head was pushed forward, and he replied with his chin hitting his chest as Cullen began scraping his neck. While the Sergeant hacked and trimmed, Trent spoke of the Moonlit Forest. He kept his report short, dancing around details that he would rather keep from Cullen, at least until the man wasn't holding a knife so near to his throat.
The knife returned to its sheath, and Cullen took his seat as Trent brushed loose hair from his shoulders and removed his cowl to shake hidden strands out of it. Cullen observed Dreq as Trent situated himself and cast Self-Clean to dispel the lingering itching sensation that hung about him.
"You've picked up a lot of Classes, Runt." Cullen reached over and picked Dreq up by the scruff of his neck. He turned Dreq, who sensibly kept his tail tucked and his mouth shut, this way and that before saying, "But not Beast Tamer or Hunter. Why are you traveling with a Beast?"
"Dreq is a Dog," Trent clarified, "and a friend, not a Beast." "You can call him a fucking daisy if it makes you happy." Cullen set
Dreq on the ground and ruffled his ears. "A completed Status, three Skills, and the fact that he can enter the Trials makes him a Beast. It doesn't make him evil. You should know that after the Forest Trial and today's stupidity. Beasts can be more reliable than Adventurers."
"You've got more to tell me, Runt," Cullen rested his forearms on his thighs, "but from the sound of it, you've decided to be an Adventurer yourself. Let's see your Token."
Trent's hand closed around the disc in his pouch representing the way his life was going now. He hesitated to pull it out. He steeled himself for Cullen's criticism before flipping the Token to the Sergeant.
"Copper already, huh?" Cullen said, catching it, "That might be a record." Was that approval in the Sergeant's voice? Trent's ears burned with a
pleasant heat as Cullen flicked the Guild Token with a fingernail. A clear chime resounded though the field, silencing bird calls with its purity.
"Hear that, Runt?" Cullen flicked the Token again, one corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. "That sound means you're doing it right. All these other markings, the ones that say where you've been and what you've done, don't mean a damn thing compared to how your Token rings."
"You meet a person whose Token thuds or twangs," Cullen tossed the disc back to Trent, "well, they aren't bad, but don't expect them to think the way you do. You are facing the Trials; others merely delve them. You understand the difference?
"You will someday," Cullen said when Trent shook his head. "It's not a thing I can explain. You have to work it out for yourself. You're not coming back with me." Cullen kept his voice low to hide how he felt about that. "Why not? There's still plenty you need to learn. There's a lot I can still teach you."
By way of explanation, Trent took the crystal sword, which was really a key, from his Storage and passed it over. "The Garden gave that to me. It says to go west."
"The Trial says to go west, and the Runt goes west," Cullen muttered, turning the short sword over in his hands. "This is a pass to a Warrior's Trial. I don't suppose you understand that either. Well, you will if you follow the directions. Be sure to check them from time to time. The damned things shift, not as often as field Trials, but they can keep you running."
"West." Cullen passed the sword back to Trent and stared at his hands. "Think you're ready for that? Nothing except the Wilds and the unaffiliated from here to the ocean."
"The unaffiliated?" Trent asked, settling the crystal sword on his knees and tightening his hands around the scabbard. "What's that?"
"Gods! You're so green." Cullen relit his pipe and gathered his thoughts. "The unaffiliated is what they call it in my hometown. Here they say the Wilds and expect it to encompass it all. That's misleading, which I suppose the Royals do on purpose.
"The Wilds, the ten thousand settlements, the warring factions, the name changes depending on where you're standing, but it all means the same thing. Adventurers fighting Adventurers, all trying to make a name for themselves. The truly dangerous ones are trying to build something. They raise armies and build towns. A newly discovered Trial can spark a wave of killing that no King could ever match.
"That's what you'll be walking into, Runt. There's no avoiding trouble in the Wilds. There are laws in Al'drossford. Out there, the strongest fist is the only rule. Every town you walk into will have a different code. Most are no better than bandit gangs; the rest are worse. You sure that's where you want to be?"
"You went there," Trent said quietly. There was no doubt in his mind about his words. Men like Cullen couldn't be chiseled out by the likes of Bellrise's Trial.
"Damned right, I did," Cullen chuckled around his pipe. "And damn me if I don't envy you for going there now. A little, just a little.
"The world is a Trial, Runt. The Wilds are where you learn that." Cullen's dark eyes burned at the thought for a moment, but he pushed the gleam back down. "You don't have to go. You can be a Soldier and an Adventurer. Blood and Ash! Looking at you, I've never seen a man more suited to being a soldier."
"I have to go! I need to know." Trent was helpless as he flung his hands up. "I don't know why."
"Because you're built to be an Adventurer too." Cullen nodded to himself. "A soldier fights for days on end to hold a scrap of ground. You have the Stamina and determination for that. An Adventurer's battles usually last for minutes, and they always leave themselves an out. What makes an Adventurer great is the need to know. To know what's over the next hill,
what's waiting in a strange place. A soldier can't always afford that kind of curiosity.
"The thing you have to remember is that you can always come home, Trent. There are Soldiers and Adventurers who will say you can't, but they are wrong. You have a place here when you want it."
"Even though I've made a mess of my Status?" Trent said to break the stillness. Even the birds and insects had stopped their chatter in the wake of Cullen's statement. The animals of the field went dormant almost as if they were afraid the Sergeant would mistake their noise for arguments.
"There are things that worry me in there," Cullen acknowledged. "That title and Minor Regeneration most of all. You found the problem with Regeneration yet?"
"It's hard to fight when it feels like your bones are moving and Ants are crawling under your skin." Trent scratched at his legs in remembered discomfort. "It's not enjoyable."
"You'll need to watch that." Cullen puffed and added, "Don't let your mind wander because of it. As for the rest…
"A man makes his own decisions. You've chosen to carry enough weight that would crush a lesser man. You can probably handle it. There's a story there, I suppose, a reason you thought it was necessary. I noticed you gained a year somewhere."
It was an offer. Cullen lent his ear as Trent talked. Soon Trent was surprised to find that he wasn't reporting but conversing. He would share an experience, and Cullen would tell him about a time when he faced a similar problem. It wasn't a conversation between equals, not exactly, but Cullen laughed at Trent's mistakes and admitted to a few of his own rather than yelling or critiquing. Trent's worldview was turned on its head when he realized there was more to be learned from Cullen's boisterous stories than his rants and punishments. By carefully wording his questions, he even managed to draw out answers he had been seeking for some time.
"Fighting a Felpah that's equipped to counter you? Tricky. Those sons of bitches are bruisers without equipment. They're strong and hard to hurt but slow, really only dangerous in groups. If your weapon isn't cutting, the best method is to get on their shoulders, grab them by the antlers and rip off their heads. That works on just about any Beast or Awakened."
"What about a Dire Bear? Long weapons? Or is poison the best way to deal with it?" Trent tried to imagine climbing onto a Felpah's shoulders and
managed that, but when it came to pulling off the creature's head, his imagination faltered, and he decided Cullen, probably, wasn't serious.
"A Dire Bear? You want to know how I would fight one? Cause there is no fucking way you should be within a hundred miles of one. Not a lot of Skills, but they make up for that with buckets of HP and Strength. You come across one, don't try to run. They'll chase you down fast and snap you up. The trick is to stay near; they aren't as nimble up close. Duck and bob and hope they get bored and amble off. Now, why would you think poison would work on them?"
It was the Hill Troll all over again. Trent carefully explained how and why he had ended up using poison to kill a Dire Bear, and Cullen congratulated him on a stunning display of stupid luck.
When Cullen stood and put his pipe away, Trent wanted to reach out and drag him back down. Blood and Ash. An ending. Night's approach and Cullen's rise were endings of their own and, to Trent, far less welcome.
"Build up the fire, Runt," Cullen stretched his back and twisted at the waist. "Your friends are on their way. You taking them west with you? You could do worse. On the other hand, you could do better."
"I don't think they'll want to go." Trent stood and looked toward Bellrise. Whatever it was that gave away Kerry and Felicia's arrival, he couldn't see it yet. "If they do… the Trials can be lonely…"
"It's your business, and theirs. I'd run them through a couple of local Trials for a few months, personally, but I'm a patient man. You young people don't know how to pace yourselves," Cullen paused and seemed to weigh a decision before tossing a small object to Trent.
"The Duke wants you to have that. I didn't agree when he gave it to me to pass on to you. Now…" Cullen scratched his throat and grimaced. "Now I still don't know if I do. It makes you a Lieutenant in the Duke's Regulars and gives you the right to form your own team. The hawk is the symbol of Lewis's house. We have Scouts out there in the Wilds. Show that to them, and they'll back you. Show it to the wrong person… be safe, Trent."
"Not a hawk." Trent ran his ringer over the feathered Beast on the emblem Cullen had given him. "Dragon. Firstborn of the ancient. Symbol of the Clan Dross. It should be cast in red gold, not steel. Red for the fire, gold for the First King."
He spoke to an empty field. Cullen was gone. Looking around, he found Dreq staring at him with wide, serious eyes. "Rylarth."
"What?" Trent shook his head, coming out of a trance. His hand closed around the emblem, hiding it. "What does Rylarth mean?"
Dreq cocked his head to the side, one floppy ear standing at attention. "Firstborn of the ancient. Rylarth."
Dreq's eyes pleaded with him to understand, but Trent just blinked. "Where's the Sergeant?"
"Gone." Dreq's ear wilted. Trent had brought the Firstborn up. Why did he look as if he had never heard of the famous dragon before?
"Kerry coming," Dreq lifted a paw and pointed to where a figure in battered armor could be seen cresting a hill. Two more figures, one dressed in robes and the other hidden in a cloak, came into view behind Kerry and Trent heard the sound of teasing laughter.
"Bring them with us?" Dreq prodded, trying to drive away the empty look on Trent's face. "Kerry not bad. Felicia maybe good. Other no good."
"Kerry isn't bad," Trent corrected woodenly. "Felicia is maybe… Felicia could be…"
He stuttered to a halt and scrubbed at his face, trying to banish the cobwebs that covered his brain. "You might have gotten that one right."
"Bring them with us? West?" Dreq repeated, crossing to Trent and leaning against his leg. He wanted to make it clear that whether the others would be allowed to go or not, he would not be left behind.
Trent turned to the west to face the setting sun. He squinted at the scorching brightness and admired the pale pinks and oranges that painted the sky. "They might not want to go. I'm not sure I want to go anymore."
It was a lie. He knew it as well as Dreq did the second the words left his mouth. A pass to a Warrior's Trial, a journey through the Wilds. How could he turn that down?
"We will go," Dreq huffed and moved away to kick a few sticks of wood into the fire Trent had built hours ago.
"Yeah, I guess we will." Trent's hand tightened around the emblem he still clutched. He pinned it to his shirt, underneath his armor before he turned to stop Dreq from putting all the wood into the pit at once. "We will, and someday we'll come back. We can always come home."
