When Titus heard the excited cries and shouts of effort drifting into his window as he woke, he couldn’t help smiling. Leave it to the little roosters to be awake and already training. He pushed himself up and took a long, luxurious moment to yawn and stretch. After so long in the Wilds, he'd regained his appreciation for spending the night in a proper bed.

Harvestridge wasn't a large town and not too populous, likely because of its distance from the capital. The dry, hilly terrain didn't lend itself well to farming or fishing. Built atop the highest and rockiest hill in the area, it had thick and sturdy walls. The steep terrain leading up to them actively worked against the nightly waves of beasts.

The extremely skilled archers also made a big difference in the town’s defense. A founding family had included a crafter who was very skilled as a bowyer. The tradition persisted to this day, producing some of the finest archers in the empire and bows that were just as well known.

By the time Titus was up and ready for the morning, Crissim was the only one in the dining room, eating a bowl from the simple but plentiful breakfast spread. None of the kids were in sight, but more sounds from outside made it clear they were having fun, whatever they were doing. A quick glance out the door confirmed the rest of his crew was riding herd on the exuberant kids, who looked thrilled for the break from traveling.

Smiling, Titus scooped cooked grains into his bowl and topped them with a generous portion of chopped, dried fruit. That was the other thing Harvestridge was known for. An interesting confluence of seasons, humidity, and temperature had created the perfect environment to grow fruit trees.

The small town had taken advantage of that, with orchards tucked in every spot there was a little space. Titus was pretty sure every tree in the town was a fruit one. Though January wasn't the right time to see buds yet, so he couldn’t be sure.

“What’s the news?” Titus asked Crissim as he sat down with his heaping bowl. He quickly activated his sound barrier before doing his best to stir his food without slopping over the sides.

Crissim gave him a disgruntled look, but put down his own spoon to answer. “Our cover as new workers for Johnson's Caravans is still holding. And it seems no one has picked up on us sneaking in during the night to avoid the altars at the gates. Apparently, it's become a lot more common with the war going on and the increase in refugees from lost or disputed cities.”

Titus swallowed and nodded. “Small towns won’t turn away fresh people because of something as bureaucratic as an altar outing their identities. It's quickly turning into every town for themselves, at least on the outskirts. Every time the empire ignores a request for reinforcements, they’re just pushing the average citizen over to our side.”

“Makes sense.” Crissim pointed his spoon at Titus in agreement. “As far as a place for us to settle, our contact says he expects an update in the next few days. Apparently, we've got a new base in some ancient ruins that offers quite a few perks. But we're waiting on our operatives to confirm that the empire doesn't know about it before we send anyone else there.”

Titus sighed, trying not to be impatient. That was the downside to stopping in a small, out-of-the-way town. It took a lot longer for vital news to travel there.

“But I've got some good ideas of what we can do while we enjoy the safety of being inside walls for a change.”

Mouth full, Titus motioned for him to explain.

“Well, you know I wasn't always scrabbling at the bottom of society like you.”

Titus snorted in amusement, which almost made him choke on his food.

Crissim straightened up and adopted a haughty and arrogant posture. “I'll have you know that I was born to a well-off aristocratic family, despite how far I've fallen since then.” His voice went back to normal, and he leaned forward. “That also means I'm privy to some family secrets about how best to help young children who haven't Awakened yet.”

Now Crissim had Titus’ full attention. He swallowed. “Are you telling me there's a way to influence the class a kid gets at Awakening?”

Crissim nodded.

“And you're only telling me now?” Outrage tinged his voice.

Crissim hedged. “Well, this was a very long time ago. Plus, I never had kids of my own, so I didn't really think of it. It's not like I expected to be in charge of an entire crew of littles. Besides, we haven't had a safe place to focus on training. We've jumped from Quarrybrook that was under siege and that tragic mess we found at the base that was supposed to be a safe place for us. This is actually the first time we’ve had a chance to help the littles make progress.”

“True.” Titus gave Crissim a reluctant nod. “So what's the big secret that the ’crat families know and don't tell anyone else? And how can we help our kids take advantage of it?”

Crissim swallowed hard before speaking. “Sorry, we were all pretty harshly conditioned to never talk about this kind of stuff. But it's not super complicated. Basically, the more experience you can give a child in the activities of a particular class, the more likely they will Awaken to that class.”

Titus waited for more and was a little disappointed when Crissim seemed to be done. “That's it? So what, you train a kid in fighting and they become a warrior? That doesn't seem like a complicated secret. I’m sure plenty of average people would have tried something like that, right?”

“Yes. But would your average citizen put their child in true danger and fear for their life and limit them to specific class skills to stay alive?”

The question surprised Titus. “You’re talking about battle? So the ’crat families are throwing their kids into actual battles to help them awaken into better classes? And what, give them a weapon if they want warriors or some magical artifact for mage wannabes?”

“Yes. Which is why they’re able to keep the technique a secret. The average city family wouldn’t put their kids in true danger and fear for their lives. Sure, they may be occasionally scared, but not usually in danger of dying. And even if they are, it’ll usually be a single occurrence, and they won’t fight with a class-specific skill over and over. Get it?”

Titus stared at Crissim as he finally understood the concept. But that wasn’t the problem. Past experiences and the new knowledge combined to create an insane idea that suddenly fell fully formed into place. “Except for street kids.” He said the words in a voice full of understanding and horror.

Crissim frowned and stared at him. “Except for street kids?”

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Titus felt anger surge inside him “Think about it.”

Crissim did as told while Titus waited, his hand clenching his spoon hard enough to bend it.

When Crissim’s eyes widened in understanding, Titus nodded grimly.

Crissim leaned forward. “You’re not thinking the abuse heaped on street kids is deliberate? Killing a lot of them so a few will come out with better classes?”

“And be bound and grateful to the empire for the chance to make a better life, right? I fought in true fear for my life most of my childhood, grabbing anything I could turn into a weapon.” Titus waved at himself. “Awakening as a warrior.”

“But what about mages? Street kids don’t have access to magical artifacts. And they’d have to rely on the magic to fight, not their knives and sticks, if the theory holds.”

“I don’t know. Vitur can still step in.” Titus’ eyes widened as he remembered something. He instinctively glanced around for eavesdroppers before remembering he’d already engaged his sound barrier. “My brother had this thing he called his spark. My parents got really upset when he showed them and insisted he keep it a secret. But if any street kid had some kind of magic, it would be him.”

“This could mainly be a method to generate more warriors, anyway. The corrupt leaders might count themselves lucky to get the occasional mage from the kids that survive the streets.”

The two men sat back, heads shaking as all the implications hit them.

“All the more reason to dethrone every one of the bastards.” Titus slammed his spoon down on the table. “Like we needed more reasons.”

Crissim nodded, quiet and looking sick at their new discovery.

“I’m sorry.” Titus finally spoke a few moments later when he wrestled his emotions under control. “Tell me how exactly the ’crats manage to put their kids in deadly situations on a regular basis without losing most of them like they do the street kids.”

Crissim winced. “That’s essentially what they do. But they use their wealth and resources to make sure the children survive the processes.”

Titus shook his head. “Wait. Let me get this straight. Are we talking about a crew going out into the Wilds and taking a kid along? I assume they'd let him make the final blow against any beasts, and get in a few shots with whatever weapon he'd been training with, right? Because I can't see them being able to keep this a secret if they did the training up on the walls or in local training facilities where plenty of gawkers would notice.”

“Well, I can't say how other families did it. But our family had an agreement with four others. Together, we helped maintain a kind of secret battlefield. We built it underground on our largest estate. Everyone contributed to hire mercenaries to capture and smuggle in beasts for the training. Then family warriors or mages would supervise sessions. That's how I first trained when I was pretty young.”

Titus leaned forward, letting the glimpse of the life of an aristocrat distract him from his burning rage.

“And it wasn't like they tied down the beast, so I could just walk up and kill it. They’d already tried that in the past, and it didn't work as well as a true life and death situation.”

“So they let the beasts loose on you kids?”

Crissim pursed his lips and gave Titus a grim nod. “Obviously, we started against level 1 beasts. My parents had the best potions and healers on hand. But I’ll never forget that level one thunderhoof charging toward me while I held nothing but an artifact that could cast a simple Air Blade. Sure, I’d practiced for a month with the thing, but all of that disappears when something is charging at you to kill you, right?”

“You faced a thunderhoof as a kid?” Titus’ brows rose in surprise. “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

Titus shook his head in disbelief. Maybe the ’crat kids didn’t have it as easy as he’d imagined.

“I managed to get off a good shot right before it hit me. I must have flown at least twenty feet across the training room.” Crissim shook his head at the memory. “Obviously, someone stepped in to keep it from trampling me. After some healing, they set me back on my feet and told me to try again. It took another six attempts before I finally killed the thing. Over the next eight years, I got a lot better.”

Titus fell silent, unsure whether to offer some kind of sympathy or condolences for what had obviously been some painful memories.

Crissim cleared his throat. “Well, I haven’t thought about all that in years. Not really my favorite memories. I’m sure you have ones that are just as brutal.”

Titus nodded, feeling his connection to his friend strengthen. But still. “And you want to do that to our kids?”

“Well, not as brutal as the way they trained me. But we have some time here, so we could improve their fighting skills at least. I’ve got three artifacts that we could use to train any of the kids who are interested in magic. And Tomis can take any interested in crafting and put them to work.”

“Crafting?” Titus hadn’t thought past the warriors and mages.

“Oh, we were all jealous of the crafting and merchant kids. They had it way easier. Training in workshops and businesses.” Crissim scoffed and shook his head before clearing his throat. “So, what do you think about trying to give our kids an advantage while we’re waiting to find access to an Awakening artifact?”

Titus pushed aside his anger and fought to consider the situation logically. No kid should have to go through what he and Crissim had. “Well, I won’t argue against training them to defend themselves. And if they gain enough experience to feel comfortable, then we search for a safe way to give them real experience. But only with their full understanding and agreement. I know they need to get stronger, but we’re still going to do our best to protect them.” Titus narrowed his gaze at Crissim. “You’re sure this will work to get them better classes?”

Crissim shrugged and tapped his chest. “It worked for me. I used air magic exclusively to fight during my entire childhood. But I know of many cases where it didn’t work. And there are still random results. So, there’s obviously more to it than exposure and training. It could also have to do with natural affinity. I actually love air magic, but I knew kids whose parents forced them to practice with weapons or magic they didn’t really like. Maybe that contributed to some failures? In the end, Vitur is in charge.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Titus said before looking at his bowl. He’d lost his appetite, but he could never waste food. He finished the last bites with stoic efficiency.

Then he and Crissim picked up their dishes and set them in the tub at the edge of the table.

Titus stopped for a moment and blew out a breath. “Actually, running some warrior drills with the littles sounds like a fun way to keep everyone distracted. Let's make them too tired to worry about what the future holds. And thanks for sharing all that, Crissim. Really.” He clapped Crissim on the shoulder before reaching to turn off his sound barrier.

Crissim nodded before he sucked in a quick breath. “Wait. All that drama made me forget some news. I asked about the rumors of someone in the rebellion helping mages unlock new minor elements.”

Titus stopped, his interest piqued.

“Apparently, the rebellion acquired some young mage protégé who can do things everyone thought were impossible. They are keeping the identity hush-hush, but they have taught quite a few mages the technique already, and they are spreading the practice.” He grinned, his eyes alight with excitement. “This is going to double our firepower, especially since every mage who unlocks a new element also gets a new spell slot. You know how hard those are to come by once you're past the beginning levels.”

A real smile emerged on Titus’ face. “If we're lucky, that protege might end up at the new rebel base where we are headed. I can tell you're geeking out about the idea of discussing new magic with him.”

Crissim nodded, but shrugged. “With how valuable he is to the rebellion, I probably won't be able to get anywhere near him. But yes, I would love to sit down and pick his brain. They’re saying even the regular mages trained in the new technique can unlock another element in a few weeks instead of the years it took me to figure it out.”

“Well, at least the work they’re doing will make the entire rebellion a lot stronger. And that's exactly the kind of good news we need, especially after seeing what the strike teams did to that base. Now, let's go help our littles get stronger before we get orders to move out to a new base. I’ve got some drills that will wipe them out in an hour or two. We want them to get the best classes possible, right?”

Crissim shook his head and chuckled. “You warriors can be just evil, you know?”

“Tell that to my drill sergeant. I learned from the best.”