Amongst all of the mercenary groups, the guilds, the institutions, the various conglomerations of armed men and women, the most successful and most widespread by far is the Delver’s Guild. With a presence in seventeen countries and over fifty cities, towns and villages, they are one of the most widely spread single organizations on the face of Aer.

While there are others that also specialize in extracting value from the various Nightmares; the Bacclius over in Orden, the Heroes Guild in New Azeron and the Ghostwalkers from Syphyrnia, to name just a few, none of them have quite reached the level of ubiquitous acceptance that the Delver’s Guild has.

So what sets them apart?

Unlike many of their other competitors, the Delver’s Guild does not play politics. They don’t get involved in factional squabbles and they don’t pick sides during larger scale conflicts and wars.

They do most of their recruitment locally, abide by all local laws and make no judgement on local cultural norms. If it is culturally acceptable to use undead or enslaved demons, you will find necromancers and diabolists among the ranks of the local guild. And if they are banned, they will happily post bounties on these same individuals.

Furthermore, unlike many of the more cohesive and tightly bonded groups out there, the Delver’s Guild does not require exclusivity in their membership. Many Delvers are also members of the local militia or the local mage’s guild, or even another mercenary unit, for example.

This, however, does not mean the delvers are not a close knit group. This very laid back attitude to enforcing an overall culture means that each individual guild house is free to develop their own way of doing things within the very loose framework provided by the Delver’s Guild at large.

Many a drunken tavern brawl has erupted because some ‘outsider’ dared to insult a delver within earshot of other members.

At the same time, the guild is a surprisingly hostile place to hotheads and troublemakers. People who pick fights they do not need to or stir conflict amongst their own quickly find themselves isolated and pushed out. Or, in more extreme cases, ‘accidents’ have been known to happen inside the Nightmare, gored by some beastie due to a sudden lack of support from their ‘teammates’.

Or through the simple expedient of a knife in the back.

- Peregrine, PA. Chapter 5 of Heraldry of Aer, Notable Organizations

Somehow, they all managed to get out of the food hall without getting mobbed. Rita liked to think it was because she went over and apologized profusely to the group of delvers Samual had assaulted, but in reality it was likely a combination of Gora on one side of her being larger than any of the other delvers in the room and Samual on the other seemingly completely unphased by the room full of hostile glares directed his way.

Gora even helped herself to a couple of the little sausages off someone’s plate on her way out. Rita nearly had a panic attack when she saw that, but then Gora had clapped the owner on the back and said something Rita didn’t quite catch and they’d both burst out laughing.

That seemed to defuse the tension in the room, somewhat. Sometimes Rita forgot that Gora was actually pretty well liked among the delvers.

By the time she was out the door, things had returned pretty much back to normal. Except for the doctor rushing past them to check on the knocked out delver.

Samual, the little shit, barely raised an eyebrow.

“Now you’re going to tell me what the hell that was about!” Rita demanded, falling back and grabbing Samual’s arm as soon as they were outside the food hall and away from any obvious eavesdroppers.

“I was protecting you,” he stated simply.

Rita resisted the urge to smack him, mostly because it would probably hurt her more than it would hurt him. “How is pissing off an entire room full of monster killers a good protection strategy?”

He carefully pulled her hand away from his arm.

“Because I made them angry at me, instead of you,” he replied calmly, his expression never even flickering. “By positioning myself as your guardian, any of them that were planning on taking action against you will now adjust their plans to deal with me first. And, no offense Rita, but I am significantly harder to deal with than you.”

“You’re the one that ended up in hospital and nearly died,” Rita replied flatly.

This, finally, got a reaction out of Samual. Just a twitch, a momentary clenching of his jaw, but it was there. A chink in that unflappable armor.

“That was… a mistake,” he said solemnly.

“Like trying to take on an Inquisitor all by yourself?” Rita asked.

At this, Samual actually snorted. It was the most emotion she had ever seen him display in one day. “He was just an apprentice. His fighting technique was sloppy and his control over his Blessings lacking at best. I should have crushed him.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because I’d just spent almost two weeks in a constant state of vigilance. I was tired. I’d begun to lower my guard, believing that we’d reached safety, and I was slow to refocus myself. In the middle of the fight, my concentration slipped. It will not happen again.”

Rita really didn’t know what to make of Samual. Of all of the members of the group, she’d spoken to him the least, mostly because he’d simply spoken the least. He had a quiet, intense way about him that was tough to parse. It was nearly impossible to tell what he was thinking.

She’d thought he was simply a private person, shy but quietly competent. But then he went and calmly challenged an entire room full of hardened killers just so that they’d target him instead of her… while still recovering from an injury that had him confined to the medical ward for four days.

Now she couldn’t figure out whether that was misplaced confidence or just plain old stupidity.

“Anyone seen Ava the last few days?” Gora asked from up ahead, changing the topic.

Rita shook her head. Samual didn’t even respond.

“No, we have not,” Zaxier replied from where he was lounging in Bob’s arms. “And I’ve been wanting to speak with her about the essences we recovered. She was carrying a number of the vials with her, most notably the remainder of the Conjoint Essence.”

“I know where she is,” Justine said as she turned the corner ahead of them, her voice scratchy and tired. She looked uncharacteristically grouchy. “She was just in her room when I left her. Hey Rita.”

“Hey Justine. Sorry I didn’t wait for you…” Rita began.

“Eh, it’s fine. I was busy anyway.”

“Why were you at Ava’s room?” Gora asked suspiciously.

Justine sighed. “Because I just spent the last few hours trying to get her mind scan done. Had to break down her door and pin her to the bed in the end. Anyway, excuse me, I’m going to get some food.”

Gora’s arm shot out, blocking her path. She leaned in until her head was level with Justine’s. “What?”

“Yeah, turns out Ava’s a paranoid little thing,” Justine replied. “Emerett disabled the alarm trap on her door, but missed the secondary one she’d put on the lock itself. Next thing I know she started throwing around magic, forcing us out of her room and barricading the door. Completely refused to be scanned. Took us hours to break back in to force the issue. Can you believe she was clear in the end? Fucking unbelievable.”

Then she slipped under Gora’s arm and past the group while all of them were too stunned to react.

“Oh yeah, before I forget,” she added, turning back and pointing at Samual, Bob and Zaxier. “Duncan wants to see you three as well. You need to get scanned too. Please don’t barricade yourself in your rooms. I really don’t feel like dealing with that shit again.”

Then she disappeared into the food hall.

Rita heard a cracking sound as Gora clenched her huge fist.

“Duncan, you piece of shit!”

Gora caught up with Duncan and the mind mage as he fumbled with his key in front of his office door. She was going to give him such a piece of her mind.

“Duncan!” she roared as she approached. “Duncan, you piece of shit, I have a bone to pick with you!”

Duncan sighed and patiently slipped his office key that he’d been about to stick in his door back into his pocket and patiently turned to face her. Next to him was the mind mage from Grailmane that had done the mind scan on her a couple of hours ago. He looked just as tired as Justine did.

“What is this I hear about you messing with my clients?” Gora demanded.

“Gora, what are ye doing here?” Duncan asked quietly.

“Trying to figure out what the hell your crew of thugs did to my client,” Gora said, anger seething just below the surface. She turned to face the mind mage. “Well?”

The mage was a pudgy man in an purple robe stained by sweat. As Gora loomed over him, he visibly blanched.

“Gora, as the Captain of Triskellion it was my decision and my responsibility…” Duncan tried to head her off, but Gora held her hand in his face.

“Shut it. I want to know what you did, Mage,”

“Miss… er… Miss Gora,” the mage stammered, “my name is Emerett. I’m not sure that it would be… erm… appropriate…”

Duncan leaned against the wall next to his door, taking out his pipe and filling it with tobacco. “Lad, there’s no arguin’ with her when she’s like this. Best ye just tell her what she wants to know.”

Emerett the mage swallowed nervously. “I… I just scanned her mind while Justine and a few of the other delvers held her down. She was being most uncooperative! She tried to bite my fingers!”

“Gora, don’t toss him off the walkway, he was doin’ it on my orders,” Duncan instructed. “Emerett, head back to your room. We’ll talk later.”

“Thank you, Sir,” the pudgy mind mage said, nodding at Duncan before slipping past, back to the stairwell landing.

“She’s my paying client, Duncan!” Gora exclaimed, turning on him. “She’s not a delver! You can’t just have your thugs break into her room!”

Duncan sighed. “Orders from above, Gora. It was out of my hands,” he said grimly.

“The hell it was! You’re the one having it done while people are sleeping!” Gora thundered. “Do it with me? Fine. I know these guys. I trust ‘em. It’s just like getting hazed all over again, no big deal. But not my clients, Duncan!”

“And how do ye think Ava would’ve reacted if she were compromised, Gora? If somethin’ was in her head?” Duncan exclaimed. “Ye think she’d just let us scan her? That’s why this is standard practice when someone is suspected of bein’ compromised!”

“You were happy enough that Samual and Zaxier come at their own convenience!”

“Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, innit?” Duncan said, puffing on his pipe. “Besides, ye and Ava were higher priority.”

“Come again?” Gora asked. “Why Ava and I?”

“Ye were both actin’ suspicious,” Duncan explained. “We’re havin’ all of yer group scanned, but you and Ava were both actin’ strange. Ye seemed to have fallen in love with the damned Nightmare Spawn…”

“Excuse me!?”

“… and Ava has barely left her room since you arrived,” Duncan continued, ignoring Gora’s outburst.

“I am not ‘in love’ with anyone you crazy old bastard!” Gora shouted. “But she saved my life after I did my best to kill her! And then I come here and I see her being treated like some kind of freak or outcast, how can that not remind me of someone, hmm? Perhaps an awkward young cambion who kept starting fights she couldnt’d win, or even worse, couldn’t lose? Nobody stood up for her, if I recall, except for a certain senior delver who took pity on her…”

“Alrigh’, ye made yer point,” Duncan scoffed.

“When is this going to end, Duncan?” Gora sighed. “It’s like you keep trying to find something wrong with Rita, can’t you just accept that she is who she appears to be and let it go?”

Duncan grimaced and shook his head. “It ain’t Rita that’s the problem, Lass… Look, can we talk in private?” He pulled out his key and quickly unlocked his office, leading Gora inside.

“It ain’t Rita,” he repeated once he’d closed the door behind them. “And it ain’t my orders.”

“Who and what, then?” Gora demanded.

“I ain’t supposed to tell you this, but there’s a certain… group,” Duncan admitted. “Among the most senior delvers. Very skilled folks, who look a little further ahead than the next paycheck. They perform some… ‘deeper’ studies of the Nightmare Trees.”

“What group is this? And why have I never heard of them before?” Gora asked suspiciously.

“They don’t advertise their existence. Prefer to work from the shadows. But trust me, if they say ye should get yer people mind scanned, ye fuckin’ do it.”

“But why do they want us to get scanned?”

“I dinnae know why, Lass! They just told me to do it!”

Gora and Duncan eyed each other for a long moment, before Gora finally broke the silence.

“Do they know about Rita?”

Duncan nodded. “Aye. I sent ‘em a full report. Everythin’ that happened and everything Rita told us.”

“Is this going to bring her trouble?” Gora asked carefully.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Gora, relax,” Duncan said. “Readin’ between the lines of their response, they just seem to be curious about her at this point. If anythin’, I get the impression they don’t want anythin’ happenin’ to her before they get a chance to talk to her themselves.”

“And that will be when?” Gora asked suspiciously.

Duncan shrugged. “They said they might send someone over if they become available. Nothing definitive.”

“Alright,” Gora replied, a little mollified. “You still aren’t off the hook, Duncan. I think it was a shitty thing you did to Ava.”

“Aye, that it was,” Duncan agreed, sitting on the edge of his desk, staring off into space as he puffed on his pipe. “I’ve been doing a lot of those, lately.”

For a few moments neither of them spoke.

“I think it’s time I take the group through to to Grailmane,” Gora finally said.

“Aye, probably,” Duncan said, nodding. “But don’t go repeatin’ anythin’ I told ye, okay? And make sure ye have those other three of yer possy get scanned by Emerett before ye go.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Gora said, turning to leave.

“Gora,” Duncan called out after her, making her pause in the doorway. “I’m bein’ serious. Do it. For all our sakes.”

Gora snorted and slammed the door behind her.

According to Zaxier, Ava’s room was on the tenth floor, only six floors above her own. Yet somehow, Rita had completely missed the fuss that had to have been caused when the delvers had broken into it. They had to have either done it while she was in the food hall, or they’d had some magical trick to suppress the noise. No way she wouldn’t have heard someone breaking into a barricaded room.

“I hope Ava wasn’t hurt,” Rita muttered as she stepped onto the tenth floor stairwell landing.

When Gora had stomped off to corner Duncan, Rita had decided to see if Ava was okay. Samual had insisted on coming along and since Zaxier had been left alone with Bob, he’d decided to come along out of curiosity.

“Miss Ava’s tough. She’ll be okay,” Bob said, but his words sounded more hopeful than confident.

“Sometimes people only act tough on the outside because they are so fragile on the inside, Bob,” Rita said sadly. “But I really hope that you’re right.”

“As do I,” Zaxier added. Samual just grunted.

“Can you believe they just broke into her room… and held her down?” Rita asked over her shoulder. “Imagine what must have been going through her head.”

“If they had tried to enter my room, I would have killed them,” Samual said coldly. “I sleep lightly.”

“I make use of some rather destructive magical wards to discourage visitors while sleeping,” Zaxier added. “Anyone attempting to obtain access to our sleeping chamber would likely have been seriously injured.”

“I suspect Ava did the same,” Samual replied. “It didn’t stop them.”

“Are you allowed to move about without Gora or the hob-ogre with you?” Zaxier asked Rita, changing the subject. “It sounded like you’ve been in a situation similar to house arrest since you arrived here, from what I’ve been able to piece together.”

“That was by choice,” Rita admitted. “At the time I was worried I was going to freak out again like I did in the Nightmare. Now I’m more worried about the other delvers. Some of them don’t seem friendly.”

“When did you ‘freak out’ in the Nightmare?” Samual asked curiously.

Rita shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell you some other time. That one must be Ava’s door.”

Ava’s room was on the opposite side of Triskellion’s central chimney from the stairwell landing. It was easy to spot: it was the one that appeared to have been hacked open with an axe.

Justine.

“What now?” Samual asked as they stopped outside the door hanging ajar, no longer able to close properly.

Ignoring him, Rita knocked softly on the open door. “Ava? Are you in there?”

“Fuck off!” Ava’s hoarse, trembling voice echoed from inside.

Woah, okay, not the reaction that Rita had expected.

“It’s us, Ava. Your friends. We came to check if you’re okay,” she replied.

“No, I’m not fucking okay! But you can still fuck off!” Ava shouted from inside.

“She does not appear to desire guests,” Zaxier said. “Personally, I suggest you respect a mage’s wishes in this regard, for your own safety. Perhaps all she needs is a modicum of space?”

For a moment, Rita considered doing exactly that. Ava was her own woman, after all, she could make decisions for herself. If she wanted to be left alone, that was her business. If she really wanted help, she’d ask for it, wouldn’t she?

No. No she wouldn’t. She would act exactly like this, because people were bad at asking for help when they needed it most.

Memories flickered in Rita’s head. Memories that weren’t her own, drawn from the mistakes of a past life. She’d given a friend ‘space’ who said she didn’t need help once before. The consequences of that decision had nearly torn her apart. She was not going to make that mistake again.

“Could you guys stay here for a bit?” Rita asked.

“I suppose I could wait for a while. I have nowhere else I need to be,” the cat replied with a yawn, lounging a little more comfortably in Bob’s arms. Samual just nodded warily.

“Ava, I’m coming in,” she said, determination on her face.

“Wait, Rita, that’s not…” Zaxier began, his voice suddenly tense, but it was already too late. Before anyone could stop her, Rita pushed the door open and slipped inside.

There was a buzzing sound in her head and for a brief moment, it felt like her skin was on fire. Before she could draw breath to scream, or even properly process what was happening, there was a pop like a cracking joint and the buzzing and the pain both vanished like they’d never been there.

She blinked to clear her head, then took in the mess that was Ava’s room.

Furniture lay strewn about. A chair had toppled over on its back just left there and personal effects lay strewn about the floor. Scorch marks, actual scorch marks, marred the walls in three different places.

What had happened here? Whatever it had been, it had involved violence.

In the middle of it all sat Ava, huddled in a cocoon of blankets on her bed. She glanced up as Rita entered, face red and streaked by tears, tangled strands of hair peeking out from inside her blanket shell. She looked even worse than Rita had feared.

“I told you to fuck off,” she said hoarsely as Rita pushed the door shut behind her.

When the door refused to remain shut, Rita pulled a small strip of sticky webs from the back of her abdomen with one of her rear legs and stuck it to the door jamb, gluing it shut.

“What are you doing?” Ava asked, a note of tension in her voice.

“Calm down, your door’s broken…”

“I know my door’s broken, why are you locking us in?” Ava asked, the pitch of her voice rising in panic.

“Ava, relax. I’m here to help, okay?” Rita replied, speaking softly, trying to calm her down. “I just thought you might appreciate some privacy if you want to talk.”

Ava stared at her warily from within her blanket walls. “I don’t.”

“That’s fine, you don’t have to,” Rita said. “But if you change your mind, I’m here to listen.”

When Ava made no reply, Rita began tidying up. She righted the chair and started collecting the various bits and bobs strewn across the floor. A couple of articles of clothing, a hairbrush, a broken ink pot that had to have smashed when it fell off the desk… that last one she couldn’t really do anything about the puddle of ink where it had broken, but she could pick up the the sharp pieces of glass, at least. She also couldn’t do anything about the clearly magical circle drawn in ink over the mirror.

Another, smaller vial had rolled under the desk. This one was nearly empty, though, and only a couple of drops of glowing blue goo shimmered inside. It also seemed to have been made of something tougher than whatever the ink pot had been made from. The container was entirely undamaged.

Essence. It was the stuff that Ava had given Rita to power her tronic, that she’d used up entirely inside the Nightmare Tree. In fact, hadn’t Alice drunk the last of the stuff they had had? It did look… tasty…

“Put that down,” Ava ordered, glaring at her from within her wrappings.

Obediently, Rita dropped the vial on her desk. “Sorry.”

Once a space had been cleared, Rita sat down next to Ava’s bed, folding her legs in as tightly as she could to make herself smaller. The silence stretched as Rita sat quietly and Ava eventually returned to staring in front of her.

She really wanted to ask what the mind mage had done to her to affect her this badly, but she didn’t want to force Ava to recall the experience again so soon. If it had been anything inappropriate, she was going to stab Justine herself.

Instead, she tried opening the conversation with something Ava was interested in. “Ava, what kind of essence is that again?” Rita asked, pointing at the small vial now resting on the desk.

Ava momentarily peeked out from inside her cocoon. “Conjoint. It’s used mostly in communication and coordination related spells.”

“And, hypothetically speaking, what would happen if someone were to drink it?” Rita asked innocently.

“They’d either get very, very sick or they’d die messily. It’s not beer, you animal.”

Now that was interesting. Since leaving the Tree, Rita hadn’t given Alice’s theory, that she had to consume her essence somehow, much thought. Especially since her tronic was somehow working now without needing to be doused in essence anymore.

Was it possible she really could drink the stuff? Alice had done it, but she’d been inside a dreamworld of some kind at the time. That could have been what had made it safe. Maybe if she tried to take a swig out here she’d just vomit her stomach out instead. Besides, if she did only get this Conjoint Essence from drinking it, why had it been working by itself since she’d left the Tree?

Then she remembered her experience biting into the Tree. The sensation of an impossibly dizzying array of flavours rushing into her and the feeling of being incredibly full afterwards. The unbelievable power she’d felt at her fingertips. Had she… sucked out some of the Tree’s essence? Was that why she hadn’t felt the same hunger pangs when she saw the vial again?

She stared at the small vial sitting on Ava’s desk, feeling the faintest stirrings of hunger in her gut. Oh shit. Was she some kind of… Essence Eater?

“Rita, why are you here?” Ava sighed softly, startling Rita out of her thoughts.

She turned back to find Ava staring at her. She seemed less freaked out and more just… tired.

Rita smiled. “I’m your friend, Ava. And friends are there for each other during tough times.”

Ava blinked at her, then scoffed. “We are not friends.”

Rita sighed, smoothing down her hair. “Okay, look, I realize that was a bit presumptuous of me. I get we haven’t really known each other that long, or spoken that much really, but I’ve not spoken to anyone that much. You’re the first person I talked to that understood me! So I hope you don’t mind, Ava, but I consider you a friend. Even if you don’t consider me one. Yet.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” Ava replied. “Friendship is bullshit.”

Rita was taken aback. She had never particularly been a beacon of positivity, either in this life or her previous one, but that was a pretty dark statement even by her standards.

“Friendship is what makes us who we are…” she tried.

“Then we’re all illusions, because that is all friendship is,” Ava stated bluntly. “An illusion. It’s nothing but a transaction, two people agreeing to mutually exploit each other for their own gain, whether its affection, emotional support or plain old sexual gratification. As soon there is no more to be gained by one side, bam. Party’s over.”

Rita couldn’t believe that someone could have such a cynical view of the world. Her previous life had been anything but sunshine and roses, but not even in her darkest, loneliest moments, when it felt like she’d managed to alienate everyone she cared about, had she ever doubted the concept of friendship.

“You should have seen Gora march off to give Duncan a piece of her mind,” Rita said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “I swear, she looked like she might actually bite his head off.”

“Gora’s getting paid to get me back to Grailmane safely,” Ava growled, a look of disgust on her face. “She’s only trying to protect her reputation and her paycheck. Back in the Nightmare, she dangled me like bait for some horrible plague monster, did you know that? And when I told her I was going to report her, she threatened me.”

Rita winced. That didn’t sound exactly like Gora, but she didn’t want to accuse Ava of lying. Not now. She’d ask Gora about what had happened some other time, when they were alone.

“If that’s true,” she said, “then I’m going to have a very stern chat with her, okay?”

Ava gave a bark of hiccuping laughter. “Knock yourself out. See if I care.”

Rita sighed. “Look, Ava, I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to stop them.”

“A locked, barricaded and magically warded door couldn’t stop them,” Ava replied bitterly. “I doubt you would have been more than a mild inconvenience.”

“Yeah, but maybe a locked, barricaded and magically warded door plus a terrified and insecure spider-monster with no idea what she was doing might have been enough. We’ll never know.”

At this, Rita noticed Ava flash a brief smile before she could stop herself. A crack in the shell.

“Gora said we’re probably leaving soon. I’ll help you pack if you want,” Rita went on, trying to make conversation.

Ava just made a noncommittal sound.

“Samual’s out of the medical ward, by the way. Not sure if you knew,” Rita kept chatting. “You wouldn’t believe what he did in the food hall just now.”

“Hmm?” Ava made a curious noise.

“One of the delvers made a snide remark about me, so he casually walked over and smashed the guy’s head into the table so hard he knocked him out,” Rita laughed. “Then he called out the entire room of angry, murderous delvers and told them if they wanted to get to me, they’d have to go through him first. If Gora hadn’t been with us I think they would have strung him up on the spot.”

“I don’t think so. He’s stronger than he looks,” Ava replied, a note of sadness in her voice. “Seems fond of you, though.”

“What, really? You think so?” Rita laughed awkwardly. “I’m sure he’s just realized that I’m bloody helpless when it comes to this place, you know? I don’t know how to fight, I don’t know how to use magic… hell, I’m still a bit freaked out by my own body. He’s probably just being nice to the new girl.”

Ava shook her head. “No, I’ve seen the look of irritation he gives me when I… freak out. Damsel-in-distress isn’t his thing. This is something else. Maybe he’s just some kind of arachnophile.”

‘Oh please no’, Rita thought to herself. That was the last thing she wanted; romantic interest.

“You seem sad about it,” Rita asked, trying to turn the topic of conversation away from herself.

Ava huffed. “I’m not. I wish you all of the best and many… offspring, as disgusting as that thought is.”

Rita’s fists clenched and her eye twitched as she tried really hard not to think of spider-babies.

“Something is still bothering you about it, though,” she replied, trying to direct the conversation away from anything infant-shaped.

“Ugh, fine, if you must know, when we first met at the start of this expedition he looked… interesting. In a romantic sense,” Ava admitted, leaning back against the headboard of her bed.

“Ohhhh, you had a crush on him?” Rita squealed. “That’s so cute!”

“Fuck you, it was barely that! I just thought he looked really… intense. Like he really knew exactly what he wanted,” Ava said, scowling in discomfort. “But now that he’s started chasing you I’ve lost interest anyway. Clearly he’s confused.”

“No! I’m not interested in him, really! I mean, how can I be? Sure, he’s handsome enough I suppose, but just look at me! We’re not even… erm… compatible!” Rita babbled. “The two of you are a much better match, he’s all yours! Really! I think you’d be super cute together!”

Ava just stared at her flatly. “I think you may have gotten the wrong idea. I meant he was nice to look at. That’s it. That’s all I can do anyway,” she sighed, crossing her arms.

“What? Why?”

She twisted her lips. “Rita, I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t do so well with… physical contact.”

“What do you mean?” Rita asked. She’d noticed that back in the Nightmare, Ava had kept her distance from others and had worn gloves and a rather thick robe, even though it wasn’t cold enough to justify it. However, she’d just attributed that to the girl not being the huggy type and getting cold easily.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ava replied. “Suffice to say, I don’t think I have a relationship in my future.”

The note of sadness in her voice tugged on Rita’s heart strings. Self-deprecation mixed with resignation. Like someone so far lost they’d simply given up on finding her way back.

“Please, tell me?” she asked. “I want to understand. Maybe we can figure something out? If you’re shy, I can talk to him for you. If you’re just scared, maybe I can give you some pointers. I had four boyfriends in three years, I know my way around matters of the heart, somewhat.”

Although, now that she thought about it, was four boyfriends in three years not an indication that she didn’t know her way around romance? Anyway, it didn’t matter. She knew stuff Ava didn’t, even if it was just what not to do.

“Ugh, gross, please no. Can we just drop it? I can’t believe I even said anything. Gods, I’m a mess,” Ava muttered, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her sleeves, the blankets having fallen down to her waist. “Why am I even talking to you?”

“Because you needed someone to talk to,” Rita replied easily. “Someone like a friend.” She leaned over and patted Ava on the leg through her blanket.

Ava recoiled so hard she nearly fell off the bed. Instantly her entire demeanor changed, her eyes widening and the blanket being drawn tightly over her head as she pulled herself into a little ball again.

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, her voice shrill with sudden panic.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Rita responded, arms outstretched in apology.

At the same time, something clicked into place in her mind. Suddenly, she understood. This wasn’t a simple eccentricity.

This was the result of trauma.

An old memory bubbled to the surface, prodded on by the look of terror on Ava’s face. She’d seen it before, in her old life. A thin girl with wispy, blonde hair, jerking like she’d been stung by a bee from a gentle hand on her shoulder, eyes filled with the terror of reliving a past horror.

Much later, a story shared in confidence of her uncle’s overreach, retold in ghastly, disturbing detail. A story of incredible brutality, of a year of her life lost to suffering no child should have had to endure. She’d been only nine at the time it had occurred, but even then, almost a decade later, the emotional scars of it had still been with her… including the inability to touch another human being.

Another friend from her past life that she’d pushed away in the end, justifying to herself that she’d had her own problems to deal with.

“Oh my God, Ava, I’m so terribly sorry, I… I hadn’t realized…”

“What? What hadn’t you realized?” Ava hissed, her tone low and dangerous, daring Rita to respond.

“I… I… that…” Rita tried, but as Ava’s defiant glare bore down on her, she found the words wilting on her tongue. How did you come out and say something like that? How did you accuse someone of being abused?

In the end, it didn’t matter. As their eyes met, no words were necessary. The knowledge there spoke volumes.

“Get out,” Ava whispered.

“Ava, I…”

“GET OUT!”

Ava sat in front her mirror, staring at the runic circle. Somehow, it had survived unscathed through all of the chaos. Behind her, all of her things had been tidied up and packed back into the backpack the Guild had provided her.

She stared with empty eyes at the small vial containing the tiny amount of glowing, blue Conjoint Essence. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to send a brief message. Such as informing Professor Praxton that they were getting ready to set off, back to Grailmane.

Her hand was shaking, though.

She didn’t know how, but somehow… Rita knew. She knew, she knew, she knew!

Ava thought back to the incredible pity on her face as she somehow made the connection and felt sick. She didn’t want pity. Pity meant she was weak. And she would never… could never be weak again. Because being weak meant she would have to go back.

Ava popped open the vial, holding it out to the mirror, watching the blue essence within swirl and flow.

But for all the pity in Rita’s eyes, there had been something else as well. Not judgement, or disgust, or condescension, or even apathy but… Sympathy. Compassion.

And deeper still, beyond that, rage.

She’d cared.

All Ava had to do was let Professor Praxton know they were coming, and her thesis was practically guaranteed. She knew it. There was something here. Something new. Something amazing. She could feel it. An incredible breakthrough, just waiting to be made. Waiting to catapult her straight into the history books.

She’d be one step closer to the power she needed to destroy everyone that had ever hurt her. And all it would cost her was a single… friend?

The cork fit snugly back into the mouth of the vial before it clattered harmlessly to the desk. Fuck it, there were other thesis topics.

Such as… how had Rita managed to survive the magical kill-trap she’d set up under the carpet just inside the entrance?