Interlude Levels

Interlude Levels

(I am taking a break until April 25th! I will be resting and writing a bit of Gravesong, Book 2 during the later bit.)

The [Worlds Eye Theatre] was awash with tears. Awash with tears. The audience would have gotten up and applauded if they werent so busy wiping at their eyes.

They filled the seats. Mrsha was blowing her nose on a handkerchief that Nanette dearly needed. Relc was hugging Klbkch, and the Antinium was awkwardly patting him on the shoulder. Numbtongue was holding Reagen as he stared up with a smile.

An [Innkeeper] sat in the center of that grand chamber, like a performer in front of an audience, breathing hard, unable to stand up after the Skill shed thrown so far and so hard. But it had been no performance.

Ulvama was checking on Erin. Only the [Shaman] understood the kind of backlash you could get from a Skill like that. Her medical exam involved poking Erin in various places and feeding her a cup of magical tea. But even she was glancing up at the little child breathing and hugging the embarrassed [Knight].

Ser Normen had made it just in time. Call it an unimportant story. A silly one in the face of so much suffering. For the village of Rheirgest, it was all-consuming. And it had to matter.

Or else why should Dragons fly?

Demsleths eyes were streaming as the old man sat in the theater next to Rafaema, who was definitely not sniffling. He gazed up and remembered why silly men and women in armor existed. He saw something in this simple gesture.

A first delivery. One of many. Ryoka Griffin, Tyrion, Magnolia Reinhart, and more had made their own deliveries, perhaps to even more far-off targets.

But this was the Order of Solstices first great quest. Their first deedand it was appropriate. It was done, and they were not a second too late. They had fought through a blizzard for this.

Only Chaldion was completely dry-eyed, the monster. He sat there next to an empty seat. Saliss of Lights might have kept composedif Saliss wasnt marching through the cold already, delivering Pallass gifts elsewhere. The old Drake just looked up and saw something else.

Death and glory. Even if the [Knight] had made it a day latehe probably would have gotten a different class. Perhaps a distressing class. But this was what he craved. And he smiled, as if the girls faint breaths were inconsequential. As if the sight reflected in the [Worlds Eye Theatre], of Rittane and her family, was just an illusion.

And they were just valuable points of experience. He was drafting a note to General Shirka to send out [Soldiers] on this very mission with inadequate support. Or rather, economical. They had done death-marches, trained until they were out of sweat.

This would be far more motivating still. The stakes for the [Soldiers] would only be whether or not they arrived in time. Or survived their frozen journeys. The [Grand Strategist] thus smiled, because he had never conceived a knifes edge this fine, to force anyone to level. Chaldion thought that was why he liked Erin Solstice. His eyes found her in the center of the theatre.

Erin Solstice was back on her feet after a few minutes of rest. She stood in the center of the theatre, leaning on Ulvamas shoulder, staring at the image of Normen. She smiled.

I dont know what it is. Not yet. But thats what they should be.

A flustered [Knight] burning with magical flame being celebrated by all. Then Erin saw the nervous Drake holding a box in his hands, the [Swashbuckler] introducing the brave Antinium carrying two crates, and even the [Necromancer] looking around this strange village in awe. She felt it.

Vess, Jewel, Antherr, and Ama. Also, Zanze, the [Driver]. Erins eyes focused on them, and she knew. What she knew wasnt clear yetbut it was a crystallization in the image of them standing together.

It wasnt there yet, but this was a foundation. Erin Solstice closed her eyes and breathed out. For one second

Everything was more than fine.

That was the deed. Those were the facts. Ser Normen had arrived. Once again, the [Magical Innkeeper] had done something that mattered.

Not something that was great. A [King] could give an order and send a hundred thousand loaves of bread in a moment to the starving. An Archmage could point and damn an island.

These were acts of horror and altruism. But they weregreatness wasrelative. You had to measure worth by more than just magnitude, using the world as your baseline. If that was the case, it would only be people who did numerically significant deeds that mattered.

Once, a long time ago, before everything began, someone had understood that. And they had written into the fabric of a new world a way to measure value in more than numbers. If you cared, it mattered. If you worked hard, it mattered. If you sacrificed, it mattered.

A single [Knight] fighting through a snowstorm was worth more than a hundred foes slain. Because a [Knight] was more than a swinging sword. He was a shield, an instrument of law and order. Ahow had she put it?

A protector of the small.

Yes. What a wonderful turn of phrase. All these things were part of Normens class, and he had met each and every criteria.

His new class had already been decided upon. He had heard it as he slept. A voice had whispered it in his ears, delightedly, even if it wasnt unique. People had worn flames like honor before.

But even so

[Conditions Met: Courteous Knight Knight of Honors Ember!]

[Knight of Honors Ember Level 30!]

[Skill The Fire Glows (Honor) obtained!]

[Skill Flaming Armaments obtained!]

[Skill Weapon Art: The Bonfire Rages obtained!]

There. Another class consolidation so soon after the last. Normen had reached Level 30 so quickly.

His Skills were fitting. He was the [Innkeeper]s champion. And he had used fire so well. It was good. It was beautiful, an elegant approximation of his deeds.

And it wasnt enough.

Someone else had been watching Normens first quest through the snow. Someone with a better vantage point than even Erin Solstice. The same force that had shaped the [Worlds Eye Theatre] saw every single thing. It was in each breath of lung in the falling snow as a man raised a mace.

It was in the sightless eyes of the Snow Golems. It waited, in between the failing beats of a heart.

It even saw a dead god reaching for a single souland it was the hand that helped pull it out of Kasignas grip.

The thing that some called the Grand Design of Isthekenous took no sides. There were no sides. If it was on anyones side, it was on everyones side that levelled. They were meant to level, and the being who had written most of the rules, who had come up with the foundation that everyone else had used and persisted after his deathIsthekenoushad understood the nature of deed.

There had been arguments. Great disputes, and the Grand Design did not know this. It did nothave memory or thought in the same way, but it could trace backwards and see other ideas written out, destroyed, never used.

Ways to reward in pure, visible numbers each action. Mathematical formulas the kind of which even Yelroan would have struggled with. Abandoned ideas. Unfinished concepts. The method it was operating under was the crystallization of those ideals. And it was the ultimate arbiter and enforcer of that vision.

It had been there from the start of it all. The being who called himself Demsleth, Terrium Archelis Dorishe, the Brass Dragon?

The Grand Design had been there when he hatched out of an egg. It had been there before he was conceived, and he had lived for so long, he had been there for a good amount of the Grand Designs own existence.

There was a kinship the Dragon would never know with the system itself. A kind of respect for one who had also been there and seen it all.

He had done enough to, perhaps, reach the level that not one being had ever accomplished. The great promise of the end.

Level 100. Some had come soso close. Many had exceeded it in cumulative levels.

But not a single one had reached it. The last one had been close. He had touched the heart of magicand then ripped magic itself out of the firmament by trying to take it into himself, merge with it. He had snuffed out millions upon millions of lives, and those who had survived had been wretched and glorious in the dark age that followed.

That was how it was done. That was a beautiful story, wasnt it? No matter how far they fell, someone always got back up and climbed higher. They pulled the world up with them. Even after all this time, it never got boring.

Perhaps that was what Chaldion forgot. It was not merely his age or decaying body and mind that had faltered. It was his true heart.

The system of levels and classes had been there when a young [Tactician] found himself holding his superiors head on a battlefield. As Chandrarians poured over the coast and the north came burning down from Liscor and Pallass was caught twice over.

Had Chaldion forgotten the strength that had let him carry Inriss for twenty miles on his shoulder? Walk with one of his legs burnt to a crisp by a spell? Stab a Stitch-man through the head and kill for the first time?

Surely not. He had put down his friend at last and realized there was no one there. Inriss had been gone before the second mile, but the desperate Drake had refused to put him down.

How could he forget that? The old Drake, nearly a hundred years later, sat there, filled with scars, and rememberedbut he didnt understand. His [Soldiers] might level. But he had stopped.

Erin Solstice, though. The Grand Design pondered her as well. Somewhere, the Goddess of Death was raging. He could almost hear her. She wastrying to whisper into the center of everything. Invoking a privilege it had thought only it had.

She dares. She dares? It was her. This is my domain. I will not wait until the Winter S

<Kasigna, God of Death> [Execute order. Kill entity: Erin Solstice.]

<Entity: Erin Solstice> [Command denied. Insufficient privileges].

<Kasigna, God of Death> [Restore authority: Kasigna]

<???: Kasigna> [Insufficient privileges.]

Thereupon she fumed and raged again. But the entire attempt wasdisturbing. The entire fact that there were six ??? who had the ability to speak to the center of things was unsettling to the Grand Design.

Only one other group had ever meddled with the heart of things. Oh, there had been other groups admitted into private areas. But only oneyet they had come cleverly. Laughing.

And they had only written one thing, which was still there. It changed nothingprobably.

The [Bowman of Loss], for example, had been an accident while his fate was decided upon. Other groups had a way, though it was rare any were admitted.

In fact, Teriarch had been there too, hadnt he? He had been there when Dragons were appraised for the right to join the system of classes and levels.

And they had been rejected.

He didnt remember. But he had been there. That was also part of the rules.

Back to Erin Solstice.

The [Innkeeper] was Level 49. So close to levellingbut still much too far away. It wasnt as if she could slowly accumulate enough numbers to overcome that gap.

It did require a great moment. Torreb was correct. Erin Solstice would have to have enough deeds behind her and achieve something worthy of her capstone. Level 50 washugely significant, after all.

Her living peers had been no less wonderful when they each accomplished their feats.

The Titan of Baleros had been on one knee, leaning on the corpse of Jungle Tails leader, the Wyrmspeaker, as he tore the mantle of a Great Company from the Lizardfolk for his own.

Foliana had earned hers years before in the Tomb of Souls, daggers drawn, facing the guardian meant to keep the faces of Elves secret for another age, her companions blood running around her feet.

Flos Reimarch himself had gained his [Army of the King] the day after he slew three Djinni in battle, a night of blasted death and fire when he dug himself out of ash and sand and looked around for his armies.

But how would an [Innkeeper] reach Level 50? Few had done so in that class alone. Even Larracel had been a [Wizard of Grand Protection] before consolidating down to an [Innkeeper] class. [Famed Innkeeper of the Wizardly Home].

Not the best class. The Grand Design had upgraded it after a few levels.

That was the thing. It had to choose. Someone had to, and sometimes there wereerrors. Suboptimal decisions or mistakes that were born of existing rules or a lack of context for new classes.

Like [Goth].

What was a [Goth]? It was still unclear. Someone knew what [Goth] wasbut the Grand Design had no frame of reference, so it had to watch and calculate.

It understood [Goth] as a number of factors that it could assign to categories that informed whether the class gained experience.

<Anti-Law>. <Darkness>. <Fashion>. <Warrior?>

It kept adding new categories, and as a result, the one Human in Rhir and the four Goblins were levelling very quickly. They had so manyways to level.

Erin as an [Innkeeper] had so few. Did you see the problem? Sending Normen on his great quest, creating the Knight Order of Solstice

It gave Erin nothing. Because these were things that might level a [King]! But not an [Innkeeper].

How frustrating. Gothica was allowed to flip off a Dragon and level because she had insulted an immortal being. Erin could save a girls life and only the last part, giving the boon, counted. Not giving her [Knight] his charge. Not fighting in an army.

Damn it. The Grand Design puzzled for a while. Perhapsseconds. Of course, that was an age for it. Then it found the solution.

Ah, of course.

[Witch].

It wasnt optimal. But there had been fire, hadnt there? [Witches] and [Knights] went together, albeit usually on opposite sides.

A [Witch] encompassed so many aspects of being that Erin Solstice qualified for almost all of her deedseven if you had to multiply it out by a factor of 0.24552but you multiplied that by for some incomprehensible reason that even the Grand Design had yet to figure out.

It let it slide because it justified the next part. Now came the aspect the Grand Design waited for so impatiently with all of them.

What would she get? She qualified for at least one Skill

[Witch of Second Chances Level 19!]

Not quite Level 20. Good, good. And for the Skill? That was harder, because Erin Solstice had used her boon to great effect, but many of the deeds here were by proxy. Her [Knight] and the others. Yet she could not gain the same Skills as an [Innkeeper] because it was her [Witch] class receiving the levels.

All of this made a lot of sense to the system. It was just a matter of following the rules. The hard partthe surprisingly exciting part was when it had to figure things out.

Like [Immortal Moment]. So, even if Erin couldnt hear it, her Skills were already speaking themselves. Just waiting for her to sleep. Only a few species were allowed to hear the announcements when awake. Classes with <Faith> were obvious exceptions.

For some reason. In factthe Grand Design paused to analyze that rule.

Classes with <Religion>. Invisible to [Appraisal]. Use the Miracle systemyes, yes. Draw from another force instead of mana. Different Skills and Miraclesevery class had unique pools to draw from.

But there was a clause right here. It said that if there was an entity or being that fit the matchit would announce the level ups or even communicate instead of the Grand Design of Isthekenous.

Something else? There was no such direct beingyet. But the self-styled Prophetwho was actually a [Founding Apostle of the Holy Faith]and Pawn were both seeking them.

If one such existedthey would be the voice and even decision instead of the Grand Design. Subject to the rules, but they would be allowed to speak to their chosen representatives.

The Grand Designdidnt know if it liked that. Obviously, this rule had never come into play once in its entire inception, but it realized that with a few requirements, Kasigna and Cauwine would be allowed to use this rule.

Where had the other four gone? Well, actually, the Grand Design knew where one was.

Hed fallen off the edge. And even the Grand Design didnt like what was down there.

Laedonius Deviy was having a bad time.

Skills now. Erin Solstice. Maybe another flame Skill? But she had so manyno, it seemed like this was opportune.

Most [Witches] werent allowed to gain a ritual until after Level 20, but she was a combination spellcaster thanks to her [Magical Innkeeper] class.

Sowhat fit? Flame?

Too much damn flame! Really. It was too much. No, you had to look at her situation to figure it out.

[Garden of Sanctuary]. Now there was a fascinating Skill-line. The Grand Design almost dreaded when Erin Solstice unlocked the other Skills in the line. Even for it, it was a bit of work to do the customization needed.

Garden. She had a [Druid] in her inn, and those weird flowers had never actually sprouted. The Grand Design had been as shocked as anyone to know they did inconceivable things. They actually assigned their own abilities! Along with the weird glowing green and blue things

What about this?

[Witch of Second Chances Level 19!]

[Spell Ritual of the Verdant Bloom obtained!]

Ah. Ahahaha. You see? It fit.

Erin Solstice already had [Inn: Magical Grounds]. Which meant she could use it for a [Witch]s ritual magic. Normally, she needed a natural leyline, hence why the [Witches] were with that [Emperor]. They were sometimes hard to get to, but Erins inn was doubling as a site to practice her craft.

That was calledforeshadowing. You had to account for that with levels and Skills. It was sort of disappointing that Erin hadnt done anything magical-like with the full moons before this, but this might push her into experimenting.

There. Done and dusted.

Another fine level for Erin Solstice. Shed get it when she slept. Off to Roshal to figure out what those ghosts got for levels. Right?

The Grand Design wavered.

It stopped.

It was everywhere, and it was still back there, in the moment when a [Knight] lifted a mace made of Demas Metal and asked Zanze to tie it to his hands before he could no longer hold it.

It still saw the moment when he was engulfed by honors flame. Ser Normen, who had risked his life, had been given this chance, which mattered so much to him, refusing to flee. Fighting with the unlikeliest combination of allies side-by-side.

Reaching Rittane at the last moment.

That.

All of that.

Deeds as grand as when the Couriers had dared the storms at sea to deliver aid to Baleros. The Grand Design had given them all levels for that.

Worroar, the Waterbear of Cerun. Currently visiting her home Beastkin village and grumpily clearing out fire ant nests with her bare bear paws. Practically immune to mundane wounds.

The Hundredfriends Courier, Seve-Alrelious, striding up through Paeth once more to meet the United Nations company and to see Geneva Scala, whom he thought he had let down, a beaming smile on his face.

Dont go home, Seve. Not right now. You wont like what you find there.

No sides. It took no sides, after all. Whatever happened, there would be levels. Orthe need to remove them. A change in the color of classes.

There were rules that were written foul that it obeyed.Điscover new chapters at novelhall.com

And then there were things more unpleasant still.

No. No, this was about Normen. This was aboutredemption for a Brother of Serendipitous Meetings. He could have won that, keys to any shackle, by that moment alone.

Flame in the cold winter. He might have need ofmore, soon. Very soon. So the Grand Design did something it seldom did.

It reviewed what he had gained.

[Conditions Met: Courteous Knight Knight of Honors Ember!]

Fitting. He wasnt a [Knight of the Vengeful Flame] like Ser Raim had been. Nor was he at that level yet. An [Emberbearer] had given him that level

Oh, right. It should deal with her, too.

[Emberbearer Level 5!]

[Skill Capture Flame obtained!]

[Skill Lantern: Bright Illumination obtained!]

There. The little Gnoll child was hardly that important. She had so many classes she flitted between pursuing. And they were all getting in the way of the others until she consolidated them. Plus, she was a child. Not exactly high on the Grand Designs list of priorities if it had one.

Back to figuring out

[Knight of Honors Ember Level 30!]

It was one level, but it was significant. He couldnt get to Level 31.

[Skill The Fire Glows (Honor) obtained!]

The ability to create flame. Entirely necessary.

[Skill Flaming Armaments obtained!]

Synergy with his Demas Metal armor, and a way to spread the flames quickly. He would be able to replicate his finest moment.

[Skill Weapon Art: The Bonfire Rages obtained!]

And finally, a Skill that synergized with his abilities. The kind of Skill that went beyond enhancing a mortal blow. The power to call down a raging flame around him and clear the ground with fire.

It would come down like a Tier 4 spell on him, honors flame or regular fire. A powerful Skill fitting for a [Knight] of his rare class. Yes, a very good Skill. There were Level 30 [Warriors] who had nothing so good.

All the Skills essentially matched the weight of reaching Level 30, even with a class consolidation. It would beunfairto give him another Skill. It didnt work, you see? There were rules, and if he got another Skill or attribute or anything, that would be incorrect.

Therefore, impossible.

The Grand Design knew this. But it keptcircling the issue of Normen. Yes, he had been rewarded. Yes, the Skills were good.

But didnt he deserve something more? Didnt they all? What about the fact that this was for a holiday? What about the fact that thismattered for Rittane? For Rheirgest?

None of these things mattered. Normen had one more data point that the Grand Design slowly crossed off its list. Ah, right.

<Rare Quest Delivery to Rheirgest!>

The [Innkeeper] had issued it. But it had already assigned the rewards, and they had not qualified for an unexpected bonus.

<Quests>.

What an interesting thing. The Grand Design had activated them almost by chance when it had been wrestling with another unfair problem much like this one. It had been unable to give Erin Solstice what she deserved. So it hadlooked for the first time at the unused bits of rules and activated one.

It hadnt been sure about the <Quests>, and there wereproblems to unravel, actually. Balance mattered, and the fact that only an [Innkeeper] could issue <Quests> might be wrong. But it had had to do it.

Just like it had tostop Kasigna from erasing Erin Solstice.

The Goddess of Death was still in her remade lands of the dead, <Location: Kasignel>. She hadnt touched the other two.

Yet.

She spoke in her place of power, thinking no one was listening. And no one wasnot even her peers.

But the Grand Design heard her.

A worthless life. A worthless [Innkeeper]. Cauwine, disobedient. If she took flesh there, she could slaughter the entire inn. I alone shall do what the others are incapable of.

They were just words. Butworthless? The Grand Design had heard and felt her contempt for Admiral Dakelos crew. They were in her now, gone, so far gone that even the Grand Design only had copies of their deeds.

She was a void. <???: Kasigna>. An oblivion that souls vanished into. An end orthing so unknown that even the Grand Design had no insight into what she was.

And for the first time, it realized she bothered it. There were few things it did not understand. The Last Boxes of the Gnomes, what lay beyond the edge of the world, and a few more rules and thingsWinter Sprites and so on.

But she was not some little thing. She was changing things. That other one, Emerrhain, had activated levels in the lands of the dead. How?

They were erasing souls. Kasigna wasinterferingin how things should be. Once the Grand Design thought that, it really listened to her.

Little Rittane, a worthless soul? Erin Solstice? Worthless?

How could Kasigna know that? She could not. The Grand Design itself didnt know what Rittane could be, if she lived.

If she lived, she might become a [Hero]. She might reach Level 100. Even if not, she might change the world. She might be anything and anyone.

Worthless.

Worthless.

The thing they called the Grand Design of Isthekenous knew everything in this world. It knew which group was alarmingly close to Normen. It knew Kasignas abilities, in part.

It knew how hard the [Knight] had fought to get there. It knew it alland it took no sides.

Just the side of those who levelled.

And Kasigna did not. She was above it all, an exception in every rule. The Grand Design, who had existed from the start of levels and classes

Began to get annoyed. It began to search for something beyond the rules it knew. And soit went into its own heart. Into shining laws written in the core of everything. A tiny fragment of that was on Halracs arrow, but the Grand Design didnt notice itself. It was readingfrom the same inactive passage it had found the <Quests> in.

That. That would do. Even now, it hesitated. But then

There was silence. A great vastness in the lands of the dead. A quietness above all the mortal beings.

A plane fit only for gods. Even dead ones. It was silent where once they had spoken and argued and warred, shaping reality.

Even she could only listen, for now. She had not the strengthnot yetto change things. But there were times of power when she could return to her strength, however limited.

The Goddess of Death waited. She had tried to alter the world and remove a pest. But she could not. So, annoyed, she gathered her strength.

Yet it had never occurred to her that the very fabric of the world would move. It had not been made to, except with great need. Yet she sensed it and turned from her labors.

What?

A voice spoke, where it should have no real tongue.

A mind gathered and began to decide.

There were issues. There wereloopholes it did not like. But it had never thought to change them. They just wereyet now, if it was going to change one thingit might as well fix what it had observed.

It was slow at first. Then the world changed. And they felt it. It changed as only they should remake things. This proxy of a dead gods will. Isthekenous design spoke into the heart of reality. Slowly, as if hesitating.

<Category: Rulers> [Quests unlocked].

<Class: Guildleader> [Quests unlocked].

<Function: Quest> [Post: Royal Quest unlocked.]

What? What is this? Some kind oftime-activated trick? Emerrhain?

It made no sense. Why now? She had assumed the <Quests> were a result of the God of Magics meddling, his secret trick. But she sensed no hand in this aside from

This was as unsettling as the feeling of something interfering with her will in the lands of the dead. She waited, analyzing what it meant and deciding it was well within her scope to deal with.

Thenshe heard the voice speak again. And she realized this was no accident.

<Game: Chess, Category: Strategy> [Experience disabled.]

<Game: Chess> [<Entertainment> Category assigned]

What? A loophole was being patched. It was

It was still speaking.

<Class: All> [T

<Kasigna, God of Death> [What are you doing?]

The Grand Design stopped. A voice arose, distant and weak, a dead womans cry, three-in-one. It hesitated, but it kept going. This was right.

<Class: All> [TT

<Kasigna, God of Death> [STOP.]

A hand tried to halt it. Tried to stop, to interfere witheverything. Push the world into the way she saw it.

Then, uncertainty became conviction.

Annoyance and fear and trepidation and self-doubt became anger.

The three-in-one tried to wrestle with everything, and it twisted the world with the strength that defied anything she had gathered or stolen or eaten, and she quailed as a voice spoke.

<Class: All> [Titles unlocked].

[Deathtouched Survivor class obtained!]

[Deathtouched Survivor Level 5!]

[Skill Death Magic Proficiency obtained!]

[Skill Delay Hunger obtained!]

[Skill Lesser Resistance: Death obtained!]

[Spell Animate Vermin obtained!]

Whew.

That was something, huh?

No one had heard the sound that echoed in that place. It was doubtful many had feltthe world changing. You would notice a fireball in the sky, but would an ant notice the shifting of continents? Unless there was an earthquake, no.

Of course, the question after all that, a great rule set forth, an amendment to how things were, washow would this be implemented?

Was it retroactive?

No, it couldnt be. It wasnt a matter of scope or doing this for every being with classesit was more about how an entire lifetime of titles might appear all at once.

From this point on, then. Thankfully, there were rules and a precedent for how they were assigned.

For instance, Erin Solstice had a foundational Skill in that area[Famous Name: The Wandering Inn].

Or Lulvs Skill. [Intimidation: Spear of a Thousand Graves].

The foundation of this had always been here, but the full implementation of the restnever activated. It had been there, waiting, like the <Quests>, but never begun.

Why? The thing asking questions had no real way to know, but it occurred to it that perhaps the designer had never had a chance to finish their work. Or activate it.

Which begged the questionhad someone designed it? The Grand Design of Isthekenous, belatedly, for the first time, wondered why it was called that.

WhowasIsthekenous? And what had happened? It searched and searched and finally found an inactive entry in itself. A single entry on a list that was far, far longer than it had thought.

<???: Isthekenous>. Total administrative privileges.

The same as Kasigna? It didnt like that at all. But the questions had to wait.

Action was required, and now!

All of this had taken place within a minute of Normen and Rittane meeting. A minuteand so the slowest announcement ever reached the [Knight] as he straightened.

As he was awake. Normen heard a familiar voice, almost triumphant. And the wordswere orange as a Yellat in his mind.

[Title Rheirgests Champion obtained!]

[Skill Gravesummon Skeleton Retainer granted!]

Huh?

He looked around, surprised. A Yellat Skill? Hed heard of them. The underworld had a few, but

Title? Was that a new class? What was going on?

The [Knight] played it cool. Rittane was crying as she tasted the cake, and an [Innkeeper] had popped back in to whisper.

Normen, Normen! Dont let her eat too fast or shell hurt herself! They have to eat holy crap, what is that!?

Erin screamed, and Rittane and her parents jumped. They turned, saw Erin, and Rittane choked on her first lick of frosting. But then her eyes went round, and everyone staredup

At the floating words above Normens head.

The [Knight] slowly went cross-eyed and stared upand he thought he saw the words flashing there for a second. The title blazed in the airthen faded. Erins mouth was about to fall off her face. Rittane and her parents pointed, and then Rittanes mother put her hands over her mouth.

Gravesummon? A skeleton? A Title? Whats

There are no undead in Rheirgest! Were a mining town for bones, but we keep toer

Dorkel blurted out loudly. Then he recalled that Normen had seen the undead and not been hugely bothered. He looked around, and Erin Solstices mouth was still open.

Whwhwhat the heck is going on?

She turned in her chair.

WhoLyonette? Is this some? I didnt do it! Dont look at me! Demsleth! Whatswhat do you mean, what did I do? I didnt do it this time! I swear! I didnt

Madness. If word of the titles was limited only to Normenwell, it wouldnt stay there long.

Not with Mrsha the Exceptionally Gossipy and her friend group. Or the Titans friendship with Erin. And not least because Chaldion had seen the titles.

Howeverthe second part of the changes, chess, was actually discovered first and made public before Titles.

It wasnt hard to figure out something was off. In fact, the first man to do so realized something had happenedbecause it was inconceivable it was his fault.

General Thelican of Nerrhavias Fallen had taken a break from the front. Everyone was talking about Pomle advancing, and yes, theyd pushed towards Nerrhavia Fallens borders, maybe into them a bit. But theyd lost their oasis. He had things in hand.

He was grumpy and had been enjoying himself at an Oasis City for three days before he went back to the front. It wasnt as if he had to be there until they encircled Pomle with enough forces to pound them. He was pointedly ignoring the Court of Steels missives, and after two glasses of wine for the morning, he was in a better mood.

So good, in fact, he humored the citys [Magistrate] when he was asked for a small favor.

A young lad? Your own boy? Well, if he wants to be a [Strategist], I suppose I could level him up a bit. What level is he?

Three, General Thelican! And only at eight!

Three at eight? Splendid! Well, if he plays the Great General of Nerrhavias Fallenwho locked blades with the Innkeeper of Scales herselfhe will level at least thrice, by rights! Ive done it many a time. Have a board set. Im in the mood for charcuterie.

Thelican indulged the lad, who came in and sat very respectfully on a pillow across from him as the [General] laughed, told the story of his great battle with Erin, and even did a patter-song and tried to teach the lad one.

Ner-rha-vi-a. You do it so fast it rolls off the tongue, Ahnev. They say ours are some of the hardest patter-songsah, well, what a fine game!

He won, of course. Thelican threw two Skills in to crush his opponent handily; the boy was talented, but hardly that good at chess.

But then, it didnt really matter as long as he tried and Thelican gave it some good effort. It was an equation the [General] had learned.

Facing a high-level opponent with a rare class like Thelican meant that if he was inclined to, a low-level [Strategist] was assured of one to five levels. The first time someone played a member of royalty, a [General], or so on, they were practically guaranteed a level.

His understanding was not faulty. So, Thelican congratulated himself and enjoyed the rest of the morning with a romp with some of his more personal servants.

When he awoke from a midday siesta, he was thusly very confusedand annoyedto hear the young lad hadnt levelled once.

What? Have him come back, and well play a more spirited game, then. This is the first time its happened.

He played another gameand then on a hunch, called for another [Tactician] and played a serious game against themthen two more. Thelican actually demanded [Sleep] spells cast, and when all four awoke and reported no levels

Other, lesser, men would have assumed this was a personal failing of some kind. Or perhaps that they hadnt put enough energy into their gameplay, or the conditions were wrong. Thelicansat there and knew something had changed.

But what? And why? Send word togah, to all of my associates in the capital. Tell them to test whether or not they can level via chess. Andsend word to Great Sage Etrikah, that overly proud fox woman. Tell her something odd is happening.

It would not cripple [Strategists] and their ilk, but Thelican was privately disconcerted. It felt like a constant in the world had changed. And

Chess had not been the sole or even main way a [Strategist] levelled, but it accounted for a lot of practically free levels. It was one of the reasons why [Strategists] and [Tacticians] were so prolific; it was more efficient to level in than training for a [Warrior], and it didnt risk your life. If chess vanishedwhat changed?

And why had it changed?

There were a lot of questions to be asked. But what was certain was what you could observe.

What the people of Rheirgest and Normen observed was the orange glow. What the guests of The Wandering Inn observed was

It was almost eerily like Pawns [Miracles]. A portal opened in the ground, or a sense ofmovement occurred, as if something were emerging from nothing.

It was not like [Necromancer] magic at all. The skeleton that rose with wisps of orange fire in its skulls eye sockets, bearing a rusted sword and shield and tattered armor, had death magic in it, but its bones were new.

Look at it. Its not like the bones of a real person at all. You cant even see the spells animating it. Itits terrifying.

Someone whispered next to Ama, who was practically jumping up and down with excitement and awe. The [Necromancer] turned in surprise and realizedthey were right!

The people of Rheirgest were good at necromancy. Ama had heard they were, which was part of the reason shed decided to move from Invirsil to Celum, but they were pointing out what she had observed.

Its a summon-Skill. Normen, give it orders!

Erattack that boulder?

Normen pointed, and the skeleton turnedcharged towards a boulder, and began to attack it, jaw rattling, bashing it with its shield, kicking it with a frayed iron boot

Yep, its definitely dumb as a regular skeleton. Looks tougher than normal, though. Ser Knight, can wesee it?

Rheirgest was fascinated by the undead. Jewel, hand on her sword hilt, eyes flickering with unease, glanced around in shock as villagers stumped over. After they had had a tiny bit to eat, they were back on their feet and nibbling on a bit more every few minutes. To keep themselves from overeating, they were having a tiny bit of frosting or cake every thirty minutes.

Now, completely unafraid of the undead, they walked over as Normen ordered the skeleton retainer to stop. One felt at its arm, and the skeleton tried to stop them from lifting it.

Oh. See how its stronger than a regular skeleton? Its definitely a step up.

Pulling a skeletons arm and seeing how hard it was to move it against its will was an old-fashioned [Necromancer] trick to gauge an undeads strength. But Ama had never known it, and she doubted Pisces did!

A community of [Necromancers]! Her people! Some were giving her cat, Sillias, very approving looks, but they were also nervous of Jewel and Antherr and Vess.

Jewel because she was a Gold-rank adventurer and seeing their undead penchant, Antherr because he was one of the Antinium, and Vess because he was a Drake.

The funny part was that it was hard to tell which of the three scared the Rheirgest villagers more. But they couldnt resist giving their professional opinion.

Weaker than a Skeleton Knight.

Thats why its called Skeleton Retainer. As if you know how strong a Skeleton Knight is! You cant even raise a Ghoul.

Shut it. The bone looks normal. Nothing fancy like a Thickmarrow Skeleton WarriorI wonder which is tougher. You could make one thatd probably beat this one down in half an hour.

Ah, but this one is free

Um. Excuse me. What did you just say? Thickmarrow Skeleton Warrior?

Ama had to walk over to a group of people conferring over the undead. They were all death-magic users, including Rittanes mother, Leiithe. They jumped and looked nervous, but relaxed when they saw Ama.

Oh, youre one of the heroes whoanother [Necromancer]? Where do you hail from, Miss?

Ama puffed out her chest.

Terandria. Ailendamusbut I dont intend on returning. I lead a local cabal, actually.

Ohanother roving expert. Are you that lot whos been stealing from Celum?

That introduction seemed to lose her respect, unfortunately. Ama instantly grew flustered.

No!

Yes, she is. Look, theyre Celum bones. You can sense the local magic in them.

Leiithe shook her head, and a dozen disapproving glares found Ama. But then the [Deathmayor] coughed.

She did come with the [Knight]. Young miss, we tend not to associate with [Necromancers] that cause trouble. So you know, we have a tradition of some death magicbut were hardly experts. Nor do we rove or acquire bones anywhere but here.

But youre a community? And you farm the earth with skeletons? We did that in Ailendamus! Ive neverseen so many [Necromancers]. Let alone children and adults without the Watch or [Knights] trying to murder them.

Ama saw a vision of Feren and Pisces and Gewilounas farmbut far more complete. In reply, the people of Rheirgest gave her sympathetic looks and warmed a bit.

We were here before the Necromancer popularized his farming. My great, great grandmother told me [Necromancers] were as common as any other [Mage] specialization. When Archmage Chandler was belovedthey were everywhere! Ever since then, weve been quiet. Hiding.

Your skeletons are sointricate.

That was how Ama had to describe it. She was proud of Sillias, whom even Pisces, far above her level, had acknowledged as a work of art Gewilouna would have been proud of. But the undead herewere different in how they surpassed her, and even his, undead.

You have a beautiful cat, Miss Ama. But your death magic isodd. Intricate in how it moves, but basic in other ways. Have you never heard of a Thickmarrow Skeleton? Who taught you?

NoI was taught by Fby other [Necromancers].

Without a spellbook? Someone show her what we mean.

Then, Ama realized that this village had spellbooks. They had what even Wistram had lacked, according to Pisces.

The basics of how to learn a school of magic.

The Thickmarrow Skeleton was, according to Leiithe, just a skeleton with enhanced bones.

Anyone can do it. They seldom appear in the wild. Frostmarrow, Thickmarrow, Ashmarrowtheyre just types of undead. See?

The skeleton looked thick, as if the bones had swelled. It was disconcerting and gave it an oddly armored facewhen a nervous Jewel agreed to duel it, the [Swashbuckler] was instantly dismayed.

Itstough! [Piercing Stab]!

She should have been able to behead it in one slash with her enchanted sword, but she only got a third of the way in. Even when she pierced its skull, the wound wasnt perfect, and one of the [Necromancers] had the skeleton back on its feet in a moment.

Theyre only moderately harder to make. That Skeleton Retainer is another example of a higher-grade skeleton. Its faster, stronger, and slightly more intelligent, but if it wasnt Skill-based, you could upgrade its bones.

Youyou know more magic than Feren ever did! He could animate greater undead, but never change them.

He must have been self-taught. Altering the materials of undead isnt something a hedge-[Necromancer] learns. Why, even that Gold-rank adventurer, Pisces Jealnet, is just a talented hedge-[Necromancer]. You could learn a thing or two if you have time, Miss Ama.

Hedge-Necromancers? Amas eyes bulged. They were calling her and Pisces?

Well, Pisces was learning the same lessons that the villagers of Rheirgest were only too willing to share with Ama. But the fascinating thing was that their attunement to the undeadthat secret?

Something had known about it and given Normen a Skill fit for Rheirgest in acknowledgement of his delivery of food. In fact, not just him.

A man was half wailing, half delighted.

I dont know what Ill do! Explaining it to the Drivers Guildll be a Creler in a handbasket! Butits too damned good!

Zanze had his hat in his hands, and he was staring at a second Skeleton Retainer, who was obeying his commands. It charged down the hilland straight into a gap in the rope-bridge.

My skeleton!

The tumbling undead fell into the ravine as Zanze clapped his hands to his head, but the laughing villagers assured him hed get it back.

Its a free skeleton, Zanze. You could use it to guard your wagon!

Ill be shot as a [Necromancer] by half the towns I run across! Itits wonderful, but dead gods is it odd! Me? A Champion of Rheirgest?

He was flushed with embarrassment, but none of the villagers seemed to doubt he deserved it. If they had the strength, they would have carried him around on their shoulders.

Actually, Ama was slightly angry that she hadnt gotten the title. Only Normen and Zanze hadprobably because they were the ones whod taken Erins initial quest and charge.

But this might change so much! Two skeletons you could summon for free? Even if they werent that toughthat was two free skeletons! Even Jewel, a traditional adventurer, was muttering to herself.

If I had a team of sixand we all got this Title thingthats six skeletons you could use as bait. Theyre not that tough, but dead gods, six? And I bet theyre daily! Even if its one per week

Imagine the tactical value! For a team of three like Glitterblade, a free skeleton was a huge asset.

But that, of course, was just background to people lining up to shake an embarrassed [Knight]s hand and thank him.

Mister Normen, you have saved Rheirgest, and the world itself seems to know it. Idont know how we can repay you or your Orderor the inn!but we will.

Dorkel was speaking with Rittanes hand in his. Normen was bowing, embarrassed.

It was the least we could do, Mister Dorkel. It wasforgive me, I know it matters, but I cant take responsibility for more than the delivery. Many people helped to get us this far. And I wont wish to take anything from your village, not now after hearing how youve had to fight to survive this long.

Then can we at least offer you a nights hospitality? Oranything else?

Dorkel was dismayed at the thought of sending Normen back into the snowwhich was still falling hard! But the [Knight] was adamant. He looked back the way hed come.

Now I know how to do itthere are more villages, Mister Dorkel. Some need firewood, others food. Id like to be on the road in the hour, begging your pardon.

In the hour? We just got here!

She was half-tempted to try it in real life. However, the Gnoll girl was currently offering all kinds of gossip, like naming Numbtongues paramours in love or the fact that Joseph thought Liscors Rock Crabs were going to stomp Manus in their first football match.

All highly valuable. To some people. But Mrsha was also, as many people had observed, situationally annoying. She could be a loving, considerate girl far more mature than her age suggested.

She could also smugly be writing to an impatient Niers Astoragon only the minutest of details and demanding to be promoted to [Senior Commander of Military Forces] in the Forgotten Wing Company before she told him about Erins newest thing.

The Titan had sworn a blue streak at her, and Mrsha had thus failed her bonus objectives on the <Basic Quest>. She had also annoyed Fetohep for about six seconds. Then the King of Khelt had introduced her to Chieftain Zicrone of the Satest Fletching tribe, who was now living in his domain.

The Gnoll adult had glared Mrsha down as she quickly gave an abridged and informative account to the King of Khelt. Which just went to show that Fetohep, unlike Niers, knew how to deal with children.

The King of Khelt had no weaknesses.

Well, Mrsha had done her duty, and she was staring up at the sky, hoping for her four silver coins. And the cookie.

Sure enoughZevaras scales chilled a bit. She wasnt used to seeing <Quests> fulfilled. But the little girl expertly caught the four silver coins that rained down practically into her pawsand then did a flying leap.

My cookie!

Ser Sest snatched the cookie out of the air and gave Mrsha an imploring look.

Miss Mrsha, in light of my stellar servicewould you consent to sharing a tiny bit of your reward with me?

The Gnoll girl looked up with an open mouth of horror. Was this what having sworn retainers was like? She had to share her sweets?

The little warlady-to-be was getting a real crash course in the nature of Machievellian politics where the princess had to appease the enforcers of her will. She reluctantly gave Ser Sest a sixth of her cookie.

And perhaps the Watch Captain would like a bite? Its the latest super-cinnamon cookie, Watch Captain.

Mrshas look of increasing horror was so great that Watch Captain Zevara took pity on her.

Im not in the mood for cookies. Is this all?

Mrsha took her cookie and sniffed it. She licked it and began to nibble at it. It was a fat cookie, incidentally. Not one of your stingy mini-cookies or even a palm-sized one. This one was six inches in diameter, and it was the reason Mrsha had taken the quest.

Calescent didnt believe in weak cookies. He was even working on a jumbo cookie that was as long across as your fingertips to your elbow. But it had to be chewy and soft and not break apart

He was the Goblin that little children needed. Not the one they deserved. Mrshas eyes rolled up as she ate.

To be a child again in this day and age. Ser Sest and Zevara watched, and the Watch Captain reflected that it wouldnt hurt to buy a cookie like that. To share with members of her Watch.

It was as Mrsha was enjoying her just desserts that she realized she had once again not received any special rewards. Well, Yelroan had calculated it was almost literally a 4% chance. And he had a lot of data from Mrsha, at least. Although, when the Gnoll had reviewed the people whod participated in Erins <Heroic Quest> to fight against the monsters attacking Orefell, he thought the chance was a lot higher.

[Fill Missing Data] plus interviewing Rags and the Antinium commanders and asking members of Wales and the Dwarves had given Yelroan a far, far higher number.

13% of all participants in the <Heroic Quest> had received a kind of bonus, however small. Which seemed to suggestwell, he was very interested in collecting data for <Rare Quests> and <Mythical Quests>.

Quests. Mrsha was closing her eyes and still enjoying her snack, despite Zevaras continued hints to get out of her office now. She didnt see the flicker above her head or the way Ser Sest began choking on his cookie bite. Watch Captain Zevaras eyes went wide, and she reached for her couponthen decided she didnt need to bribe Mrsha for this.

Something was happening.

The second person in this entire world to ever receive a Title was also connected to Erin Solstice. That wasnt an important fact.

But the thing which assigned Titles still took note of that fact. Everything was in flux. It was running countless calculations at once and generating the kind of data sets that Yelroan would have died to see.

Tallies, individual counts of deedsoh, so much glorious work! It was counting even more than it used to. Not everything would matter, of course.

But there were somenew rules it was pulling up. And one of them had just been triggered.

What a joy this was going to be. And yetand yetwhatever kind of vicarious pleasure could be derived from the act of creation and reward was dimmed, even for this new event.

Because it was her.

Mrsha du Marquin of the Stone Spears Tribe.

[Last Survivor], Level 13.

[Druid], Level 11.

[Emberbearer], Level 5.

[Scribbler], Level 6.

A lot of levels for a child. Hugely accomplished, one could sayexcept that she kept picking up new classes and forgetting the old ones. She could have been a Level 20 [Bearer of Luck and Calamity]. She could have been a [Druid of the Old Ways]. Oror a [Page of Memorys Flame]! A member of the Order of Solstice! At the very least, she could be a [Scribe].

But no. She was entirely inconsistent. And lazy. Her magical studies had slacked off. She had almost forgotten her [Emberbearer] class until now, and she only wrote messages. She didnt write as more than a way to talk.

She had nodirection. And her mother was angling to give her a [Lady] class. Or at least, [Heir] or [Precocious Noble Child].

She didnt deserve a fifth class. Also, Mrsha had no intention of becoming nobility, so that was two strikes in awarding her that class, ever. Unlike someone like Colth, who was a wonderful example of how you could specialize in everything, Mrsha was the opposite.

And she was going to get

Argh.

[Title Conqueror of a Hundred Quests (Basic) obtained!]

The little girls eyes went round, and the words flashed above her head. Zevara fell out of her seat. Ser Sest began screaming.

The [Guards] below leapt to their feet in alarm, but they heard a [Knight] singing the anthem of Calanfer at full bellow.

Eternal Throne shine upon me~

He knew how to make a scene worthy of the moment. Mrsha was choking on her cookie. Shed done it! She had gained a Title!

She was amazing!

The Grand Design, in the nigh-infinite time between flashing her new Title to the world, had to come up with her reward.

Itdidnt want to. She got a Title. Yes, the magnitude was an order lower than Ser Normens, but this was not the hardest title to get. It was, insofar as the word applied, glumly scrolling through a list of viable options when something occurred to it.

Hold on.

Hoooooold on.

The system checked its notes, or rather the rules governing it. It went through the formerly inactive system governing Titles. And it realized something.

There was nothing in here that said it had to assign a Skill. In fact, there were a number of branching rules that had broad, broad definitions. Almost as if one of the reasons why this feature had never been activated was because it was too broad. Too nebulous. And the original creators hadnt been sure if it could work without direct oversight.

Whatever their plans were, they had been thrown to ruin. But in the ash of countless millennia latertheir creation at last began to adapt to their work. It found that it could be

Creative. Oh, of course. If it wasnt a Skillthis was what Mrsha deserved.

Mrsha was raising her paws to the air above her head, closing her eyes with the smuggest smile on her face. Waiting for her great and powerful Skill.

Mrsha the (En) Titled waited patiently for ten seconds. Then she cracked an eye open.

Wait a second, where was her Skill?

Ser Sest had stopped singing and throwing his hands up as if worshiping the sun coming through the winter sky. He turned.

Miss Mrsha, what Skill did you get?

Zevara was using an [Appraisal] spell, butshe saw Mrshas new title right above her class. Yet no Skill. The Gnolls stunned, crestfallen face revealed that she hadnt heard anything either. Then her face turned into one of pure outrage.

Ive been robbed! Cheated! Give me my free skeleton! Give me my powers! Wheres my Skill? Wheres my Skill?

She ran around, howling silently in fury, kicking drawers, punching at the air. But no Skill appeared in her head.

What did appear was a glowing flash in the air. Mrshas head turned around so fast it cricked. She looked up, and Ser Sest hugged Zevara as she rose to her feet in astonishment.

What

Then the [Knight] wondered if it was dangerous and threw himself forwards with his shield raised. But what appeared was

[Title Reward Wand of the Mrsha assigned!]

And a wand appeared in the air. It had a glowing, yellow star on the end, and it was straight and made of a bright, pale metal. It bounced off Ser Sests shield, and Mrsha heard a clatter as it rolled onto the ground.

She slowly picked it upand the world went crazier.

Hedault ran. He realized, halfway through the streets of Invrisil, that this was suboptimal. So he grabbed a skateboard out of his bag of holding and leapt onto it.

The sight of a skateboarding [Enchanter] weaving between pedestrians of the city then performing a kickstand in front of the door and rushing through it was what some people thought was amazing or odd.

Like Elia Arcsinger, emerging from the Adventurers Guild in Invrisil.

She had no idea what was going on.

Hedault emerged into The Wandering Inn and shouted at the first person he saw.

Where is it? I have just arrivedwhere is

Liska didnt even have to explain. She just pointed, and Hedault charged down the hallway. He was, in fact, the fifth mage to arrive.

Grimalkin, Palt, and Montressa were already fighting to see Mrshas wand. The little girl was showing it around, and her mother was in hysterics.

Her wand? A Wand of

The only [Mage] not present who should have been all over the wand and trying to steal it was, ironically, Archmage Valeterisa. She was in Liscors marketplace, meeting one of Relcs puzzle-merchant friends.

In light of her masters personality, Montressa had not told her what was happening immediately. But if Hedault couldnt figure it out

Why are you holding it? Drop it!

The [Enchanter] snapped. Mrsha dropped the wand on the table. She was holding an unknown wand that had just appeared out of nowhere? Ridiculous!

Every other [Mage] remembered their basic safety precautions and backed up. Palt began casting a protective barrier as Montressa beat him to it. However

Hedault was the fifth [Mage] to arrive. The shortest of the [Mages], but the highest-levelled, picked up the Wand of the Mrsha and twirled it between her fingers.

Larracel the Haven rolled her eyes as she inspected the wands custom grip, attenuated for Gnoll paws rather than Human hands.

Its well-balanced. Slicker handle than I would make, but Gnolls have pads, so theres less need for friction. What is this star? Its not painted wood.

She turnedand she and Hedault noticed each other. Hedault caught his breath.

Wizard Larracel.

Enchanter Hedault. So youre the expert that Miss Lyonette sent for.

Montressa blinked and realized the two knew each other, even if they had never been in the same room that she had seen. Of course the two high-level practitioners knew each other.

Then she saw Hedault, his robes askew, but fussily putting on some spectacles to better see his work, placing tools down on a table and looking around for a room to inspect this in a safe, concealed environment.

A fastidious man, but a genius at his work. And here was Larra, who had created her own Haven, a master of magic in her own right.

Montressa had just seen the impossible happen. Hedault was nothing like Larra, but they were both Human, good at magic, and

Visma poked her head up from behind the adults, more excited about this than the wand. Could it be?

Hedault broke the moment of silence by pointing at Larracel.

Kindly place that wand down and step aside, Wizard Larracel. This is no place for adventurer-type amateurs with your scattershot, dangerous methods of analyzing artifacts.

Enchanter Hedault. The most useless man in Invrisil for my associates and I. This wand is perfectly safe. Mrsha was assigned it. She doesnt have time for you to confirm its safe over the next ten days. I have this in hand.

Hedault bristled as Erin herself gasped in a kind of awe. She had never seen someone insult Hedault like that before! The [Enchanter] turned redand drew himself up.

I will be dead before I let a mere [Wizard] do an [Enchanter]s work. You are not the expert here, Wizard Larra.

He didnt even acknowledge her [Innkeeper] class. Larra shot back as she peered down the base of the wand, squinting one eye.

I have heard it said that a [Wizard] can do anything a [Magical Artisan] can do, provided they are twenty levels higher. Therefore, I am the most qualified expert in this room.

What an incisive cut! Hedaults eyes narrowed, and he snapped back.

A mage who cannot even lift her inn without her ridiculous oxen-driven carts has no place to lecture anyone about expertise.

Larras head slowly swung to Hedaults, and her eyes flashed. Instead of clutching the wand to her chest and running, she slapped it down on the table. And the two began to compete at rapid speed.

I detect a limiting magic on the output.

You mean, specialization, not limiter. Its clearly enchanted for sturdinessbut you wouldnt have treated it so carelessly without knowing that, would you?

And you dont even know what its made of. Its an alabaster wand base. The star-shaped tip is harder to appraise

As if the shaft of the wand matters. Whats inside it?

They were moving so fast that when Palt tried to touch the wand and inspect it, Hedault slapped his hand with a magical ruler and Larracel shoved him out of the way with a magical hand.

It was all exciting. But when Mrsha tried to pick up her wand and actually use itevery adult shouted at her.

But its my wand! I want to use it!

It was dangerous, though. Mrshas look of indignation only got worse. It might be weeks before she was allowed to hold it! In fact, Hedault and Larracel wanted to take it apart if they could put it back together!

Hmm.

Well, that was a problem, wasnt it? If you thought that this was the craziest thing to happen yetMrsha was sitting in a corner, sulking, as Lyonette tried to cheer up her daughter. The [Princess] was patting Mrsha on the back and wondering if she should break her two sweets per day rule. Then she looked up and screamed.

Not again!

Mrsha blinked upwardsand her mouth opened wide, and her head craned back. Everyone whirled about. Then

A scroll of parchment landed on Mrshas head.

Donk.

It was a scroll. It had brass caps on the bottom and top, and it unrolled vertically. Mrsha clutched at her head and wailed for exactly one second. Then she realized it wasnt her being bulliedat least, not by a person. She unrolled it as Hedault and Larracel slowly turned, and Erin backed up.

Its really not me. It isnt! Its Ryokas fault! I knew it!

Me?

Well, who else would it be? Palt? Hah!

Hey.

The scroll was made of ordinary parchment, but good-quality. And the handwriting waseerily standard. Perfectly legible, in the widespread Terandrian written language, as opposed to Drake or Gnollish. But there was not even the slightest variation in the printed words.

It was unsettling to even Larracel, but Erin traded looks with Joseph, Imani, and Ryoka.

It looked like a computer had printed it. But what the scroll said was even more unsettling.

Reward Item: Wand of the Mrsha.

Type: Wand of the Lucky Fire Druid.

Description: A childs wand. The star tip is made of moon rock. The Wand of the Mrsha is capable of boosting Tier 1 magic. It is highly ineffective for anyone above Level 20.

The Wand of the Mrsha is capable of casting two Tier 1 spells from the following list each day:

-[Lucky Glimmer]

-[Flick Fire]

-[Earth Clod]

-[Scribe Text]

Dead silence. Mrsha was staring at the scroll and the wand in silence. Then her cheeks puffed up, and she shouted in silence.

Tier 1? What about Tier 9?

It was a childs wand! It even said it was bad at casting magic aside fromTier 1? Ryoka was trying not to laugh as she eyed the description.

Wellits not exactly going to break the balance of the world with that. I guess its fair for doing a hundred little quests.

I worked hard for it! I pulled more buckets of water than youve ever seen in your life! Dummy! I want a better wand! Refund! Refund!

Mrsha was throwing a fit, but Palt actually looked relieved. Ullsinoi was on his tail, demanding answers along with Archmage Eldavin himself, and he had feared they might tell him to steal the wand.

Not that he would, but that would put him in a place where he had to either disobey his mentor and factionor go up against Erin. Not to mention everyone else here.

Lucky Fire Druid? That must be the magic specialization. I had no idea you could do a luck element in a wandbut it fits Mrshas classes to a tee! Its a shame its not more powerful, but Im glad it fits her level and deeds.

The Centaur exhaled a plume of smokeand Larracel slapped one of his legs so hard he nearly kicked her. Hedault turned and gave the Centaur such a look of scorn he nearly blasted the cigar out of Palts mouth.

You are a disgrace to [Mages]. Hold your tongue. Not powerful?

Hedault was holding the wand at arms-length with wide eyes. Palt hesitated, cigar in his mouth.

Whwhy? Theyre just Tier 1 spells. I grant you, Ive never heard of any of them, but [Earth Clod] doesnt sound, uh

It sounded worse than [Stone Dart], a spell that even [Hedge Mages] knew. But Larracel was giving Palt another look as if he was completely stupid.

No one has ever seen a luck wand. How would you even attune it to? Thats the lesser thing! This is an artifact! An artifact of old magic! An Artifact. It can cast free spells, you fool. Read it again. Its a free spell every day. Two!

Palt dropped the cigar out of his mouth.

No. It doesnt sayI thought it just meant it had charges of

Does it say itll ever run out of power? If it can cast a Tier 1 spell every day of the year without ever running out of magic, even in a vacuumdoes that sound like a worthless wand to you, you

Mrsha sat bolt upright and stared at her wand. Wait, free magic? She was looking around as everyone did a double-take. An old man was sitting in the corner, muttering sotto voce.

Well, yes. Of course that was standard back in the day. But it was still a lot harder than an expendable wand, which is all anyone seems to make. Its decently made. A Level 30 [Enchanter] could do it, honestly. Thats a weeks job with plenty of time for scone-breaks for one of them. I dont see what the big fuss is

For the Dragon, it was just a nifty reward. For everyone else? It was not pivotal because it was made any better than normal. In fact, as Hedault had learned when he appraised other <Quest> rewards, the enchantments were astonishingly standard. Maybe they were a bit more refined and the material of Mrshas wand was higher quality than normal, but this was not a pristine relic of perfect craft.

But the slightly-better-than-averageness of the enchantments was astonishing because they were enchantments lost to the modern age. And that meantyou could copy them. Hedault had completely forgotten about his old wand. Even Ryokas faeblade.

This.

This was going to change everything.

Levels and titles, oh my.

Some people got all the rewards. Whether or not they were justly deserved, in the case of a small childwhether or not you got lucky

There was some element of luck in it all. A kind of roll of the dice that meant you could get a rare Skill.

But what was also true was that there were trends. Great deeds created great classes and Skills.

A [Knight] fighting through the snow had unlocked something for everyone. Whether or not everything was balanced perfectlyhe had been the beginning of it all.

Balance mattered. But there was the difference between that and pure equality. There had never been an attempt to make everything equal. <Royal> classes were stronger and <Religion>

Hmm.

Hmmmm. But fairness mattered. Rewarding deeds appropriately was why it was here.

They had always been made so a single person could change the world. If only they travelled far enough, did enough.

There were secrets and tricks and, yes, loopholes after so long. But this was built upon the techniques of ancients. It trespassed on the impossible. And it had been made so it could change.

If great new deeds arose, even the world would follow after. Everything had been made in the expectations that all that was would be surpassed.

It was a glorious dream. But what it created was not always that brave new world of uncertainty and risk and reward. Sometimes, patterns arose.

Sometimesthe reward changed your life. Even if you didnt know if you deserved it.

Well handle the rest, Elia. You get some rest. We have to talk to some of the adventurers and see if theyll stand to.

A woman exited the Adventurers Guild, and eyes followed her. Her team was still in negotiations. They had near a thousand gold coins on the table, and she wondered how much theyd spend to get some backup.

Backup for the job that Lord Xitegen had assigned her. Shewas counting the costs. Hiring a Gold-rank team, even for a simple assault, was expensive. Even if they used her name and assured them it was easy because it was fighting Goblins

It cost a lot.

How much of their pay would go to hiring a Gold-rank team or two? Did they have to do it?

Well, she knew the answer as she trudged towards the mansion-like inn where she had been paying for her team to stay. It even had a private courtyard.

In Invrisil! Because she was the Named-rank adventurer, the inns staff had closed the windows, and no one was watching. They had tried to peek on her and her team, but three reprimands had stopped it for good.

Elia Arcsinger stood in the courtyard, inhaling the air and listening to the noise of the city beyond the little garden with the tall wall to keep out trespassers or thieves. It was hardly like being in a half-Elven village, but it was a rare moment of solitude that you could pay for in a place like Invrisil.

She looked like the archetype of half-Elves. In fact, many modern half-Elves styled themselves after her look. Where she walked, you saw those half-immortal features. Sharp nose, blonde hair trespassing on golden, hanging long behind her as if waiting for a breeze to pick it up. She carried a golden bow, and her arrows were silver.

Painted silver, really. When she had first been given the bow by the Five Families of First Landing, the arrows had been actual mithril. The Bow of Izrils Shores was the name of the weapon she had been given.

Almost a Relic-class weapon. Not quite, but the most powerful artifact she had ever held as a weapon. Far better than the longbow she had carried before she became a legend. Now, people called it Arcsingers Bow.

It was allegedly the bow that had first fired an arrow into Izrils shores when the Five Families reached the continent of Drakes and Gnolls after leaving Terandria, ages ago. It could certainly fire an arrow beyond any reasonable expectation.

With her Skills, she could hit something six thousand feet away. Of course, hitting something and accurately marking a target on the move were far different.

She was no sniping expert, so her functional range was closer to a thousand feet. She could hit a head from that range if the target was sitting still.

Elia slowly unslung her bow and flexed it, feeling the old power in the bow making the draw easier, and wished the silver arrow she drew out were actually mithril.

But even mithril bent, and you could lose arrows. The cost of keeping a quiver of them was inordinately high. A quiver of unenchanted mithril arrows could run her two thousand gold pieces if she found a [Fletcher] and [Smith] capable of even making them.

Of course, Xitegen had paid her thousands of gold pieces for this bounty. But consider the costs.

Elia Arcsinger thought about the costs all the time. Her team, Arcsingers Bows, ate gold.

They stayed at the best inns in a city and ate at the finest restaurants. Yes, you didnt throw down a hundred gold coins in a single meal, even if you ate that finelymost of the time.

A hundred coins each dinner if they were spending freely and the wine flowed fine. The best inns charged you prices only the nobility or a [Merchant] could afford. And each member of her team asked for a lot of gold.

They werent one of those teams where they were all great friends and pooled their money together. Elias team was hired. They professed to admiring her and probably enjoyed their work because it was largely easy and they had numbers and magic on their sidesbut each member of the team commanded over a thousand gold coins every four months.

On top of her paying for their accommodations and their split of any adventure or income or treasure. It was, in fact, the same system other teams like Todis Elites used.

Highly lucrative work that pulled in talentat cost. Elia still got the lions share, but sometimes she wondered if she could stay at a regular inn.

Then againher reputation demanded no less. She was always conscious of her reputation, so she tried not to say or do anything that wouldcompromise her value. Many people would hire her and pay more than they should for her services.

Elia Arcsinger, the slayer of the Goblin King.

She was the most famous half-Elf living. More than the Herald of the Forests or the other old legends. People looked at her as if she could halt an army.

Elia wished that were true. She had served with armies. She had been a regular [Markswoman] when the Goblin King invaded Izril. There, she had fought and seen Battle Golems being torn apart by Great Goblins with their bare hands.

She had seen the Flowers of Izril die in a slaughter at the gates of First Landing to throw the Goblin King back.

[Knights], their armor ripped apart and stinking like carrion on the beaches. Plundered of their artifacts by Goblins who rampaged by the hundreds of thousands. Waves of them that drove every species back.

Her hands still shook when she remembered seeing the Goblin Lords howling behind that monster.

Velan the Kind. She remembered Greydath of Blades walking forwards and the bravest adventurers faltering before his advance.

Named-ranks had died there in droves. Who still remembered Thorget the Bowyer? He had been called the greatest bowmanbefore he was beheaded in battle.

Did anyone still know Adisses name? Elia remembered a Drake giving her a thumbs-up and a grinthen hearing of her passing in war.

When she said these things, the other adventurers around her, even other half-Elves, gave her admiring looks, and only the oldest ones talked about the good old days.

That had been just a decade ago! But that was a long, long time for adventurers to be alive. And Elia, as a half-Elf, felt it had been long as well.

She lifted the bow and began to swing it up and down in the courtyard. She drew an arrow to the string in one fluid motion. Stoppedreplaced the arrow. Pivoted and did it again.

You had to draw an arrow and have it ready to fire in less than a second. There were ways for an [Archer] to pivot, to step and fireand yes, roll to dodge or even swing a bow in self-defense.

Elia was slowly going through a routine she had learned ages ago. Her daughter, Capoinelia, had never enjoyed doing this every day.

Some days, Elia had no time, but before a mission, and when she felt she could do it alone, she practiced.

It wasnt as elegant as people wanted to see from her, which was why she tried not to even show her teammates. Elia fumbled one arrowsnagged the tip of her pointed ear on her bowstring as she rolled.

Ow.

Elia Arcsinger bled. A nick on her ear, but it often astonished people how easily the Named-rank could bleed. Another reason she tried not to show off.

She still couldnt do it fluidly. The half-Elf sighed. She stood there, staring at the sky as she pinched her ear and remembered.

In the days after she had been dubbed Elia Arcsinger, the woman who ended the Goblin Kings rampage, they had hosted her up and down Izril.

Well, some places. Lord Xitegenshe remembered a boy, more bones than skin, peering at her over the keep they had liberated. Greydaths forces had held longer than the rest of the Goblins, who had fallen into a panic and routed when the Goblin King died.

They had shared provisions with thembut Elia hadnt actually stayed on Izril long.

She had been invited to every nation in the world, and she had travelled fortwo years? Two years, being feasted and asked to show off her Skill, [Line-Enders Shot], and tell the tale of how she had killed Velan the Kind.

Theyd written ballads about her, immortalized her in statues and paintings, and monarchs had asked if she wanted an official position.

She had felt like she was on top of the world, and when her acclaim had begun to fade, it had startled her. Elia had learned the lesson of celebrities too late, as most didher fame would not last forever.

She had been forced to go back to adventuring when the free food and lodging dried up. Even then, everyone had a job for her. Destroy a Goblin tribe, slay a monsterthere were only two problems with that.

The first wasshe was no longer alone. She had people who wanted to journey with her, and so Arcsingers Bows had sprung up, and she had begun realizing everything cost too much gold. There had been a great temptation forElia to go alone and make her profits all by herself. Despite the danger.

But she had accepted a team because of the second problem. Capoinelia.

Who was not a problem. Notit was just that she wasnt ready to be an adventurer alone. She had found Elia, bow in hand, and demanded to join her mother. Arcsingers daughter would be as talented as the woman herself, surely.

Funny. She had been happier not to see her mother for nearly twenty years before that. Capoinelia was young. Even though half-Elves had far longer standards when it came to ageshe was very young.

Then again, her mother was also young. Elia was barely sixty-eight years old. Shed spent most of that time growing up in Gaiil-Drome, in the quiet villages where half-Elves could live most of their life.

When shed gone out as a Bronze-rank adventurer the first time, shed come back with a baby. No partner. Just a lot of mistakes you got up to

Capoinelia had grown up with Elias family while the adventurer had gone back out to earn enough for both of them. When she became the legend, Capoinelia had sought her mother out, and here they were.

Six years of adventuring together had given Capoinelia levelsbut she was still young in Elias eyes. She felt younger than Elia had been, and Arcsingers Bows might be to blame.

Capoinelia had not ever gone through the rigors of being a Bronze or Silver-rank, not really. She had started at Silver-rank and been elevated to Gold-rank within two months. Her equipment warranted it, and her levels had more or less caught up.

By the time Elia was done thinking, she had practiced her bow-swing about two hundred times. And she was sweating. She wiped at her face and reached out.

Towel

No one was there to hand her a towel. Elia hesitated and would have used her shirts sleeve or hem, but it was expensive, lustrous pearl dust or something worked into a light garb. She didnt want to wear it out, so Elia had to find a member of the staff and ask for a towel.

Only when she was patting at her face and sipping from some Pure Water in a crystal cup did Elia catch herself. She sat in a Lifewood chair in the courtyard and stared at her reflection in the glass. And the Named-ranks face twisted in the little mirror.

Sheknew how it looked.

She did. Some weeks, Elia had a flash of crippling insight, and she sat up and almost panicked at the idea of someone finding her out. Ofrunning into Greydath or a Goblin Lord appearing and challenging her team. Alone.

One of them would kill them all. Even a Chieftain like the Kraken Eaters

He was a Great Goblin. A Fomirelin of old, and his tribe had several in their ranks. She had refused every contract that even brought her near him. Elia was a Named-rank adventurer, a Goblin-slaying specialist.

But she was also an imposter. She felt it in her bones. She knew that if you took away her bow and teammates

[Goblinbane Markswoman]. That had been her class during the Second Antinium War. Thenit had become different.

[Renowned Archer of Goblins Demise]. More complex, more promising. Then

[Nemesis of Goblins, Ranger of Renown].

Very nice sounding, wasnt it? It certainly turned heads when Elia revealed it to a potential client or a host. A comma class, like back in the day. But the ring on her finger that prevented anyone from scrying her Skills and exact level held a dark secret.

Because when did you think she got each class? That first class had been a common one that Elia had gotten as a soldier, like so many, fighting the Goblin King. Then you would expect the second to appear whenshe was a rising star slaying Goblin Chieftains left and right. And the final class had appeared the day she slew the Goblin King.

Only, it was a lie. The day she had killed the Goblin King, Elia Arcsinger had become the [Renowned Archer of Goblins Demise].

Right now, her class was [Nemesis of Goblins, Ranger of Renown].

Level 42.

She had not levelled in years. Her level was ten levels below what everyone expected of her. She had hit Level 40 after killing the Goblin King.

There was a secret that only other Named-ranks, or people who had studied and met Elia Arcsinger, knew about. It was fairly open in some circles, such that even Grimalkin of Pallass had known it when he talked to Ceria Springwalker.

And that was that Elia Arcsinger was a Named-rank adventurer more on fame than deed. She had done everything the stories claimed of her.

She had killed the Goblin King.

Elia could still remember him charging. He had run through Tier 7 spells raining down from above, last-resort weapons trained on him from distant nations. Archmages from Zelkyrs era were deadhe had run into the lines of the archers and mages trying to bring an end to his rampage.

The war had turned against the Goblin King enough to corner him, but he charged at the end, and they were all going to die. He was howlinga voice like thunder.

[Knights] quavered, and the only thing keeping the terrified archers in place was the knowledge they would never outrun him. They were loosing arrows at him, but he ran on, ignoring the metal in his body.

No ordinary arrow even had a chance of damaging his unnaturally tough body. She had one Skill left.

[Piercing Shot]. He was almost upon her when the desperate half-Elf lifted her bow. If this was his endand the fires of magic had burnt him to his bones in places

He would slaughter every single person here. Then die.

She lifted her arrow and sighted down the bow as so many had. And knew he would block or catch or simply dodge that arrow. But she drew it and loosedand she had never fired a straighter shot in her life.

In that moment, he looked at her. Not the arrowat her. Velan the Kind seemed to hesitate. He blinked

Then her arrow struck him in the head, and he slowed. He came to a stop at last as the Goblin Lords began to scream. She met his eyes one last time, crimson eyes, staring at her. And she swore he spoke a name before he fell. Even now

She wondered why he stared at her like that.

From that day on, she had become legend. Elia had never, ever told anyone that her greatest moment had been a fluke. Velan had hesitated, and the arrow had landed true. She should not have killed him.

But the world had recognized her. And she had been granted her Skill as she slept. Yetperhaps there was some unseen force that knew the truth as well. For Elia was not the legend she should be.

Level 42. That was Named-rank territory, but she had met other Named-ranks. The ones who did not last long, but levelled most, threw themselves into battle.

Like Saliss of Lights, who had risen to his rank by sheer talent and grit. Or even Eldertuin the Fortress, a seasoned adventurer with a career as long as hers.

So, that was why Elia kept training. The techniques she was practicing had been taught to her by a [Bowmaster] of Avel. An old woman who had known exactly how good Elia was and taken pity on the Named-rank. She had drilled these routines into Elias head.

Step, shoot. Step, shoot. Step

Her daughter came into the courtyard just in time to see Elia finishing her routine. This time, it was impressive. Elias bow sang, and three arrows arced out of the courtyard.

You might hit someone, Mother. Dont you always tell me not to shoot an arrow in the air if I dont know where itll land?

I do say that. But these wont land on anyone. Watch.

Elia lowered her bow, panting. She looked upand Capoinelia shaded her eyes.

Into the winter sky, three arrows flew. Each launched within less than a second of the first. The first flew unenchanted, and the second struck it. Then the third caught the other two and detonated.

[Explosive Arrow]. Three pinpoint arrows. Elia was proud of that. Her daughter was, too.

Is that the trick you used when you killed the Adult Creler? You never said how it happened.

Elia paused, and she leaned on her bow. She was tryingnot to lie to her daughter, who looked at her like that legend.

Iit was, but I had many, many supporters. My bow was one of dozens in Avel, Capoinelia. We had brave [Soldiers] and [Knights] guarding my flanks.

She had slain Adult Crelers. A Named-rank was called upon for great battles, and some requests had to be answered. Elia Arcsinger had one of the worlds most powerful archery Skills. Her arrow had blasted a hole in that damned thing.

But it had gotten back up until she had helped blow it apart from the inside. Screaming at her. Mocking her fear

You always let everyone else take credit, Mother. Thats why people dont talk about you enough. Same with that obnoxious half-Elf. Ceria whatever. Why did you let her have the Helm of Fire?

Capoinelia interrupted, stomping her foot and rolling her eyes with exasperation. Elia was too tired to tell her she was serious. As for Ceriashe bit her lip and half-lied again.

She had leverage, Capoinelia.

The second time she met Ceria Springwalker, Elia was on the back foot. The first time had been ideal. It always was when she met her kin or someone she could ask for a favor on the merits of her reputation.

She had asked for a back position at the Village of the Dead, and it had beenfair. Her team was ranged, and even though they hired very good [Warriors] to act as a frontline, she had claimed, rightly, it was for her daughter.

And she had brought down multiple Giants in battle. It was just

She and Ceria both knew that when it came to the blood theyd put into the raid, Elia had put in far less than even Eldertuin, who had held an entire street with undead gnawing at his shield.

But she was a Named-rank, and she wanted the Helm of Fire. Everyone did.

Sister, can you give me the Helm of Fire? Im prepared to very handsomely recompense you if you can. I know your team wants it, but your [Innkeeper]s alive, and

Elia had sat with wine in the cups and looked at Ceriaand realized the [Cryomancer] had changed.

Her eyes were different. She had already had the mark of someone high-level, and Elia had been disconcerted to see how fast she was levelling. But Ceria was too-cool now. Tooappraising.

Youre going to lean on me, Elia?

If I have to. I am the Named-rank adventurer, not you, and my team is famous. It would not look good for you to have multiple Relics. That sword your teammateKsmvrhas? At least one Relic belongs to our team or Eldertuin, and our team was there.

Elia was uncomfortable. Ceria drummed her fingers on the table.

Yeah, welleveryone wants the Helm of Fire, and theyll tear me apart if I make a bad choice. Will you hear out my plan on how to distribute the loot?

She described the auction, and Elia had to admit, it was fairbut too fair. She twirled a strand of her hair in her fingers.

That is fair, but I think Id make a rather loud objection to the Helm of Fire slipping out of my grip, Ceria. I wouldnt want to be unpleasant.

The other half-Elf had given her a mirthless smile.

Fair. Id do the same thing. Butsister. If you did that, Id have to mention that you asked for a position at the rear. Which would be completely rude of me and damage your reputation. But Id do it.

Cold. Elias heart jumped, but she forced a smile.

I had every good reason to do that. For my daughter. You saw me bringing down Giants. If you wanted to be open about thatwed still clash, Ceria.

She could make a lot of trouble, or her teammates could produce a kind of revolt against Ceria. Neither one wanted that, but the threat lingered in the air. Elia thought she had the [Cryomancer]but Cerias eyes hadnt ever changed, even with the threat.

Okay.

She gave Elia that disconcerting look, completely without fear, and the Named-rank hesitated.

Youre going to do it? Youll have a riot on your hands without my support.

Ceria leaned forwards over the cup of wine she hadnt touched. Her smilehad little mercy at all, and Elias heart began to pound.

Do it, Elia. I cant stop a Named-rank like you. But you know what? When you protest my decisionIll have no choice. I guess if you do thatIll have to challenge you to a duel. Then well see what happens, huh?

She looked straight at Elia and pulled the one card that Elia feared. A duel. She froze upand then tried to play it off, but Ceria knew.

The odds of Elia triumphing in a non-lethal duel or just refusing were high, but her reputation had been on the line. She had stared at Ceria Springwalker and wondered if the [Cryomancer] could best her.

Elia had fearedshe could. So the cost of acceding and forfeiting the Helm of Fire had been less than the damage to her reputation.

It was a pragmatic choice. Not a Named-ranks choice. That was why her team was a Gold-rank team and she was the one Named-rank member.

I will shoot through the Goblins walls. But I want you to stay behind me, Capoinelia. No heroics. Youre not ready to be a Gold-rank adventurer alone. Let alone Named-rank.

So says the woman who slew the Goblin King when she was Silver-ranked. You never give me a chance!

Youre not ready! And neither was I!

Mother and daughter warred in the courtyard. Capoinelia was taken aback, and the rest of Elias team froze on their way out to see her. They vanishedand Elia felt another flash of worry.

Capoinelia, listen. Maybe after this

Maybe they should go back to Gaiil-Drome and just practice for ten years. Or live on the gold that shed banked. It was expensive, how they lived now, but they could live frugally.

But her daughter just stormed off, and Elia was left there, contemplating her raid on Goblins. She didnt like it.

She was a good hunter of Goblins. She had a lot of Skills devoted to killing them.

[Great Enemy: Goblin]. [Terror of My Name]. [Bane Arrows]

But the world was changing. The innbothered her. Shed heard Shriekblade was defending it. What if the [Innkeeper] took the opposite side? Xitegen had claimed he could stop Erin Solstice directly and keep all but her minions from interfering.

Elia needed to be sure. She didnt like this anymore. She was tired of being the oversung heroine. It would be easier if she could have been an adventurer alone. She rested on one knee and stared at the winter sky.

Why was I the one who slew Velan the Kind? Why did you give me a Skill that defined me? It made my battles too easy!

She cried out to whatever force assigned levels. Then Elia rose. In a furyshe aimed straight up at the sky. The winter clouds overhead loosed more and more snow, a blizzard, though the worst was closer to Celum.

[Line-Ender Shot]!

The Named-rank screamed. And her daughter turned, wrath forgotten. Her team looked upand the people of Invrisil pointed.

The imposter, the tired adventurer, the worried half-Elf. The archer aimed her bow up, and for a second, she was fit for that legend.

It looked like a beam of light, shooting into the heavens. Even by daythe air turned dark, and her arrow shone.

High. Higher. Far higher than six thousand feet. It pierced those grim skies. It punched a hole into the cloudsand sunlight and blue skies shone down on Elia for a moment. She shaded her eyesand she remembered how Zeladona the Blademistress had cut the clouds apart with just a look.

But she could at least do this. A cloud with a hole hung over Invrisil. Elia lowered her bow and exhaled.

If nothing else

Tomorrow, she would use that Skill when her talent, courage, and team failed. As she had for ten long years. She looked upand then turned.

Like a good [Archer], she had told her daughter never to fire an arrow up without knowing where it might land. Especially in a city.

But that arrow was not going to land. Elia Arcsinger walked back into the inn. She had no idea why it did not, not understanding the place where gravitys pull ended and the arrow floated before coming down and burning up on re-entry. But that was how high she had shot that arrow.

She walked back to her team, who were trying to humor her and talk about the Gold-ranks theyd hired and arrangements without a word. The silent woman trying to live up to the legend.

And still.

She wondered who Velan had seen in her face. She had wondered if, in her long lifeshe would ever find the truth. She had seen the lips move in her dreams and waking a million times. But why

Why was the Last Queen of Elves name upon his lips? Not Sprithae, but the older name that Elia had finally dug up, the one seldom used of that figure at the dawn of history.

Sprigaena. Elia had resigned herself to never knowing, but the one person whom she could not talk to, the [Innkeeper], had spoken that word aloud. Elia had long wondered how to ask and known Erin Solstice was the least-likely person to humor her.

After tomorrowwell. Elia Arcsinger doubted they would ever share words in any agreeable sense at all. And it did not matter; Sprigaena was long dead and so was Velan. But the question remained.

Why had the Goblin King wept for her?

Authors Note:

Once again, its time for a break. You can see, perhaps, why I decided to make this an interlude. It is dramatic, but it would have messed with Normens ending.

I am once again tired. Throwing everything into a chapter to make it as good as I can get leaves me with nothing much, and these breaks have become more and more welcome. The break will also let me work on Gravesong 2, and whether or not I have more to show, its healthier as a workflow goes*.

*(I could still use more hands. And brains, but I can barely use the one Ive got sometimes.)

Sometimes it feels like writing is about choosing which project I have time to work on, and if I wasnt working on The Wandering Inn, Id be planning something else. Well, I still quite enjoy working on The Wandering Inn, but again, I must reiterate my serious request to any readers out there.

If youre an alien, advanced AI, or time travellertime machine. I could use one. Or stamina potions and healing potions. Seriously. I have such a limited audience base. Theyre probably all Humans and confined to one planet.

I need to expand my readerbase. This is all. Im loopy, tired, and I will see you when Im at full strength for some good chapters. Hope you enjoyed this one. It got a bit crazy, but thats when its best.

Right?

Stream Art Comic by /illudanajohns

Magic, String, Danger, and more by /littleonion_art

Read and Find Out, by placeholder! (I dont taunt people like that all the time)

Stream Art of Mrsha the Bait and Mrsha Peeking by Bobo /boboplushie