Benj woke up, walked outside to chop wood, observed the mountain of wood he had forgotten about, and then went back inside. Some habits would always stay intact.

"Good morning," Taft greeted. "I've made you breakfast." He held out a plate of warm fresh bread with two golden eggs on top, and a golden brown sausage.

"Morning, and thanks," Benj replied, not wanting to mention how surprised he was to find nothing was burnt. "Wow, you didn't burn it this time," he said anyway.

"I watched it the whole time," Taft gleamed with satisfaction. "Some could say I made it with love."

"It definitely tastes like you made it with love," Benj said between bites. "I have to get shoes today and need you to take care of everything while I'm gone again."

Taft agreed, and after he finished breakfast, he left the bakery with his shoes in hand. He walked through town, feet pattering on dirt and cobblestones until he reached William's Shoe and Leather Repair.

He saw William in the window drinking something hot from a wooden Tankard. The shop's front door still had a sign that said closed, but Benj did not have time to mull around all day. He made three hard knocks on the thick oaken door, which made three soft sounds, betraying his efforts. The door made an unlatching sound and opened slowly.

William had straight grey hair down to his shoulders. He had leathery features around a square nose and a strong jaw. He was old but not old-looking.

Before William could say anything, Benj started, "Good morning, Master William, I'm sorry for coming over so early, but I'm in a little bit of a bind." He held up his broken shoes. They were tragic to look at, even for William, who had seen every broken shoe in town for the last thirty years. "Do you think you can help?"

"Come in, let's take a look," William spoke, trying desperately not to portray the tone of being inconvenienced.

Benj walked through the door and into a small, well-lit room with two chairs, a table, and a shoulder-high shelf with three rows of shoes.

"Please, have a seat," he gestured to a chair before leaving the room and returning with a warm drink. "Let's take a look," he said as he removed the shoes from his hands. "I can fix these up quickly," he continued, holding up a shoe to show the separated sole, fraying threads, and worn leather. "They should hold up until I can make you a new pair, but not much longer."

"That sounds good," Benj said.

"These look like they've lasted a long time." He said, pulling out a curved blade, cutting the remaining threads, and holding the soles to the shoes. From there, he inspected the black foot imprint on the frayed leather soles. "I see you had to grow into these a bit. And you tend to put more pressure on the outside of your foot and your toes."

"I didn't know that," Benj said.

"You can tell a lot about a person by looking at their sole." He said with a smile. It was probably a shoemaker's joke.

Benj smiled at him, "What do you get for me?"

"That depends on if you're planning to do much dancing?" William raised an eyebrow.

"No," Benj answered.

"Then, I have nothing on hand, and I will have to make the shoes from scratch." William said and asked, "When do you need them? "

"Less than two weeks," Benj said, knowing the wedding was in two weeks.

"Do you want soft, silent shoes for feeling the earth beneath your toes or strong, sturdy shoes for walking over rocks and rough terrain?" William asked.

"If it's possible," Benj began, "I would like them strong enough to endure a carriage travel from here to King's Gate, dragging me behind on my feet. I need something strong. Really strong."

"That is an odd request," he said before finishing his drink. "Do you drag behind carriages often?"

"Not yet," Benj replied. "I haven't had the right shoes for it."

William laughed and retreated to the back, "I think I have just the thing." He came back a moment later with a large wooden box.

"I believe this is the leather you're looking for," he said as he lifted the lid. "Hide of the snow bison. Hard as a dragon's flank." He pulled a white leather sheet from the box and hit it against the table to prove his point.

"It's pricey but durable. After cutting out enough to size your feet, there would be some extra left over. I could fashion you some boots. I would say that I could make them as fine as any boots you've ever seen. I'll put softer leather in layers for comfort. I could do it in two weeks for eight and a half talents."

Benj considered his finances and renegotiated, "Four talents, a pie, and a sausage bread."

"Six talents, two pies, and I'll finish your boots in less than a fortnight. I'll fix your shoes, too, but you have to bring me the sausage bread today." William countered.

"Name your pies," Benj demanded.

"Apple and elderberry," William said

They both agreed, and William held out his hand to shake. Benj reached in and noticed a light orange circular tattoo on his forearm.

"I have that same mark!" Benj said, clasping his hand, "But a different color."

"Any man worth his own grit has that mark," William said. "I'm assuming you went all the way up?"

"I thought it wasn't polite to talk about it?" Benj said questioningly.

"Oh, that's only for the people who don't go all the way up, or worse, the people who camp out of the bottom for a few days and then turn around," William's voice seemed to hold no mercy for such people. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"I appreciate it," Benj said. "But no, thank you."

"The real tradition is to keep the conversation we are having right now to ourselves," William explained. "This is just between you and me. This journey, or "trek" as it's called, is not what makes you a man. If you're not a man when you start, then you won't be when you get back. This trek isn't about becoming a man; it's about reaping the rewards of being a person who goes that extra mile and reaches the highest peak when they don't have to. It's about being an outlier."

"So why aren't women allowed to go?" Benj asked. "I'm sure they can be outliers too."

"Who said they weren't allowed to go?" William asked.

Benj shrugged. "They aren't a part of the tradition."

"And yet, how many women's names did you see on the mountaintop?" William asked.

"I don't remember most of the names," Benj admitted.

"There are some women's names," William assured him. "But you are right to consider rethinking our little tradition. I've argued this point with the mayor. It keeps coming down to forcing someone to do something that they don't want to, even though it might make them a better person. Men have died from the tradition, and women haven't.

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"It's a complicated subject, but ultimately, we decided to encourage all women to go on the trek regardless of whether they are required to or not. You should do the same. Make sure not to be too pushy or give any hints. This journey is about finding yourself with as little information as possible."

"So, did you make the mistake of jumping off the mountain, too, or did you play it safe and climb down?" Benj asked.

"I'm sorry, what?" William asked.

"Did you jump off the mountain?" Benj asked. "With your powers?"

"Ooooh," William exclaimed. He slapped his knee and laughed. "From what I understand, all the abilities are different. For me, I got really strong. I can crumple a copper mark with my fingers. That's why I'm so good at making shoes. The mayor can feel what the weather is going to do. I think he could sense a whole season in advance if he wanted to. That's why he's head of the farming committee. You said you could jump off the mountain?"

"Yeah, it's more like gliding off a mountain. Pretty much any time I jump in the air, I don't fall straight down anymore," Benj said, standing on a chair and jumping down the hall. He glided downward until his feet touched the ground and caught himself on the far wall. "I'm still learning how it works."

"Wow! I'll admit, one part of me is jealous because that sounds like a lot of fun," William affirmed. "The other part of me wonders how that will help with you and baking? That snow bison leather would be too hard for most cobblers to work with. For me, though, I won't even need special tools to bend it into shape. All I have to do is work it with my hands."

"I could always climb back up again and rewrite my name," Benj plotted. "Maybe my next power would be to magically clean the kitchen."

"That's a good one," William seemed to agree. "Unfortunately, you can't write your name twice. I've tried… What? Don't look at me like that; I have an inquisitive mind. It's like after we write our name once, we can't bring another knife to the surface or anything to the surface again."

"Like there's some kind of invisible wall?" Benj asked.

"Kind of; it's like the closer you get, the more it pushes back," William tried explaining. "Try it for yourself one day; it's pretty interesting."

"I don't know if I'll ever go back up there," Benj confessed. "At least not any time soon," he said, and then he told him about his run-in with the mountain wolf and how he almost died.

"That's quite a tale," William declared, shaking his head. "I'm glad you made it home. Ah, speaking of making it home, I should give your shoes a quick fix so you can bring me sausage bread." He took a needle that was threaded with a leather cord and sewed his shoes together. He made fast work and then handed them to Benj after they were finished. "Try that out."

Benj took the shoes and slid them on his feet. "It works, thank you!" When he returned home, he made the sausage bread and had his new apprentice deliver them.

Over the next week and a half, Benj hadn't figured out how to tell anyone he was leaving. Instead, he trained Taft hard every day. He made lists and schedules and had sales on items he wanted his apprentice to make over and over. Taft was keeping up but was not happy about the intensive workload.

"Taft," Benj said, "I have something to tell you."

"Out with it then." He said, scrubbing a pot.

Benj sighed. I really should have hazed him more, He thought. "I'm leaving soon."

"How soon?"

"Right after the wedding cake," he specified.

Taft asked when they were planning on making the wedding cake, and Benj told him it would be tomorrow. There were only two days left before the wedding. The closing deadline felt more like a dull sore than the gut punch it used to feel like now that he had time to process everything.

"Ok then," Taft accepted it and continued on working.

"Taft, I have something else important to tell you," Benj said again.

Taft tossed the sponge into the pot he was washing and gave Benj his full, undivided, and slightly irritated attention.

"What?"

"If I'm not back before your ceremony… I just want to tell you that in all things, especially baking, always put in your best work." Benj advised, "Go all the way to the top. You got that?"

"Yeah."

"And don't worry about how long it takes you to make the dough." he continued, "You aren't going to beat anyone's record. There is no record. There is sloppy dough and perfect dough, and I'm not training a sloppy dough bread baker."

"I got it, I got it," Taft said.

Benj took a handful of flour and dropped it on the counter. "Hey, Taft, if this is the mountain of success and I was climbing up and I made it here," he pointed in the middle of the pile. "Did I put in enough effort?"

"No," Taft said.

"If I went here," He pointed close to the top, "Did I do a great job?"

"Yes," Taft said until he saw the look on Benj's face. "No," he changed his answer.

"How about here?" Benj pointed to the top of the flour mound.

"Yes!"

"If Mabry comes in for a pie and she doesn't feel like kissing you after she tastes it, did you put in enough effort?" Benj asked.

"NO!" Taft yelled.

"When you bake that pie," Benj said, "don't just kind of bake it; bake it all the way to the top. But don't burn it. I'm looking for a flaky, golden-brown crust. Oh, and bring a bow and arrow to keep the wolves from eating you."

"Wait, what?" Asked Taft, but the magic was gone, and the bell rang.

"This is your show now, champion," Benj waved him forward. "Go see to your customers."

Taft went through the door to the front and came back a moment later.

"Mabry isn't having it?" Benj asked with a smile.

"This one's for you. It's Melisandra."

If strings were holding up Benj's smile, they were both clipped at once.

"Tell her I'm not here," he said.

"I can hear you," Mel said from the other room.

"Tell her I'm busy and to come back in a week," Benj said quieter.

Taft went through the door and said, "He said he's busy and-"

"I know; I heard him the first time," she cut him off. "Benj, let me come in and say something really fast. Then, if you really want me to go, I'll go."

Before Benj could respond, Mel pushed her way past Taft, and by the look on Taft's face, it was a tight squeeze.

She wore a traditional green and silver dress that looked like it would be ugly had anyone else been wearing it. She wore a white ribbon in her hair and had thick masculine boots on her feet. She was living proof that it was possible to look rugged and beautiful at the same time.

"Sorry to interrupt your… pile of flour," she said playfully. "I really am."

"Alright, Mel. What can I do for you?" Benj asked, cleaning up his mountain of success that was secretly Mt. Asven.

"I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me?" Mel asked sweetly.

Benj wanted nothing else but to spend time with her, but he realized it was just going to make it harder. Whatever she had to say, it would have to wait until after he had left town.

"Sure," said Benj, contrary to his own resolve, "I'll grab my jacket."

The two followed the river that led out of town, walking, and talking about everything, but nothing significant.

"Did you know one of the stipulations to this marriage is I can only take half my clothes with me?" She asked.

"No," Benj answered, curious of the strange requirement. "How many clothes do you have?"

"How should I know?" She asked, "Do you count how many shirts you have?"

"Five," Benj admitted. "Well, four now, I caught my sleeve on fire a week ago, showing Taft what not to do."

"You caught on fire?!" She exclaimed, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, but you didn't answer my question," he smiled. "How many?"

She started saying that she really didn't know, but Benj glared at her until she crumbled like a dry scone. "I don't know exactly; I just know there isn't room in the new house for all of it, including a living area."

Benj cursed. "You have enough dresses to take up an entire living area? What are you going to do with all of them?"

"Keep them at my parent's house until we decide what to do, I suppose," She said, nonplaused.

"You know what I would do," Benj started, "I would learn how to sew so I could alter them, and then I would sell them."

"I know how to sew, but I'm not selling them!" She said indignantly.

"It's not like you're going to wear them, you can't even take them with you." He said.

"I might need them later." She supposed.

"For what?"

"I don't know, maybe you're right."

"You're only telling me I'm right because you want me to drop it."

"Yep, so drop it."

"You really are the worst."

"It's part of my charm." She said, smiling and batting her eyelashes.

"Maybe a small part of your charm; the rest should be around here somewhere." He said, kneeling next to the snaking river they were walking along. "Ah, here it is."

"What?" She asked and moved closer to him curiously.

Benj cupped his hand and scooped water into it. "It's in the river!" he said, splashing her in the face.

"You beast!" She yelled, half angry.

"Good thing you have so many extra dresses; I'm pretty sure that one is ruined," Benj said, feeling satisfied with himself.

"I think it is ruined. Help me get it off," Mel said, unclasping a strap going over her shoulder. She smiled wickedly, "Made you blush!"

Benj hadn't realized he had blushed, but he was certain he was blushing more just thinking about it. She put the clasp back on.

"I wasn't blushing. I had to sneeze!" he defended himself, but Mel laughed at him the more.

"Made you blush, made you blush!" she said and then splashed him with water.

Benj felt even more in love with Mel than he had the day before. She was easy to talk to, she was fun, and he couldn't leave without trying to stop her from marrying Brahm.

"Mel, do you love him?" He asked. It was his last chance to find out before she went off and made an unfixable mistake.

"Like, love or," She lowered her voice, "love?" She asked with the face of an angelic devil.

"Just yes or no," he said.

"I'll tell you, but it has to be a secret." She said.

"Ok," He said and looked around. There was nobody, "what is it?"

"Closer." She said, and he stood close enough to kiss. She cupped her hands over his ear and whispered, "You're awfully curious for a fish," and pushed him towards the river.

Benj let out a yelp and grabbed onto her for balance. The two fell into the ice-cold river. After the initial shock of what had happened passed, they looked at each other and laughed.