"Melee!"

The word brings our mental, three person chess match out onto the field.

Dawn's Agility might be the lowest of the three of us, but her use of every limb, shield, and Thunderstruck gave her a metal curtain that made it tough for me and Rachel to land clean hits.

As I initially guessed, Rachel's first strike is to send multiple flying daggers at the two of us. It was too obvious, anticipated, and outmaneavured. She was able to dodge a flying Thunderstruck, but took all three of my homing Arcane Bolts. They only did half damage, but all three direct hits drop her HP to below half.

I dodge her retaliatory Assassination, but not her Echo Strike. For a while, the two of us focus on each other, slashing and stabbing at one another but attacking nothing but the air.

Just in time, I remember the third party and deflect a speeding hammer axe with a claw swipe. The distraction is enough for Rachel to sneak a few glancing attacks in, and they are enough to deplete a third of my HP.

Dawn's weapon glows blue. Rachel and I are stunned for a split second, most likely thinking the same thing. Is she going to heal us?

"Flash!"

Rachel's body shines a radiant white and she yelps in suprise. I dive and roll out of the way, but when I look back she's gone. Her name is no longer registered in the party. No time to ponder. Dawn is quickly closing the gap.

"Smite!"

I don't let her connect, but the Skill doesn't go away until she dismisses it or hits me so I can't get complacent. While I dodge, I fire off a Roundhouse Kick, which she blocks with her new round shield. It still pushes her back, feet digging trenches in the stone. My SP Max drops by thirty percent and yellow, ghostly claws slash at her from range nonstop. She's stuck behind her shield, but I can see her Thunderstruck start to glow again.

I teleport behind her, hoping to end the fight with my two hit combo. Instead, Dawn slams her glowing weapon to the ground.

Before it hits, I shout for my shield just in time as a wave of energy sends me flying back, draining quite a bit of my MP.

I roll around the ground, dodging thrown attacks, and try to get the timing just right. My hands are glowing blue. Finding Dawn's rhythm, I cast my Spell the moment she launches her Thunderstruck at me. I dodge it and my Spell fails. Unfortunately for Dawn, even though my Spell failed, it still had a Debuff fail safe.

[Sleep (40MP) 50feet/ 50%chance to inflict Sleep Debuff. If this fails, 100%chance to inflict Slow for 5seconds]

I line her up like pool shark playing eight ball, Roundhouse Kicking her into the air and going for distance. She lands just shy of the bubble and I run up to finish the job. I must have spent too much time setting up the shot, because her mouth opens up and spits a ball of fire at me. That must be her Hellfire Spark which I'm seeing for the first time. As close as I am, I instinctively shut my eyes and block the fire with my arms.

With a power that belies her size, she grips my wrist, pulls me towards her, and forces me out of bounds. Still holding onto my wrist, she keeps me from going anywhere else, the bubble between us.

The sound of the crowd is deafening, but Dawn's hand slides from my wrist to my hand and we shake. It was a great fight.

I didn't have much MP left, so I would've had to rend her with my claws. Even though I was sure that I wouldn't actually kill her, the lull in the fight drained me of any actual bloodlust and the thought of tearing into her was unsavory. I didn't want the memory of those actions echoing in my head for the rest of the game.

The bubble burst and Dawn got her victory screen. She pulls me in close for an after fight hug, "I know you could've won, but I also know how you would've had to do it. Thanks, Ardy. You can have the charm later if you want it."

We disengage our hug and I wiggle my claws at her, "No need, remember? No weapons. Plus, you won this fight. You could've Smote my ass, but you did some WWE move and tossed me out of the ring."

I grab her hand and raise it in triumph. We let the adoration of the crowd rain down on us as we turn to everyone in the stadium. If this were a movie, the scene would slowly fade to the next morning, where everyone would wake up in random places with wackier and wackier gimicks, clues as to what they were up to the night before.

With all of the drinking that followed the fight and Gaveston's bottle that never emptied, it really did feel like we did something like that. As someone who used to work the bar and enjoyed many nights such as this, I know that one doesn't reach REM sleep after so many drinks. I'm not sure if that was the reason I didn't have any dreams or visions last night and I worry that it might be true. I don't want to have to rely on booze like so many others that I've seen IRL, drowning themselves for one reason or another. I'll have to talk to someone about that.

For now, I wake up in our room in Gaveston's manor, just after Victoria who has her civvies, or civilian clothes, on already. Tunic, pants, boots, and since the weather is starting to get cooler especially in the morning, a fur lined leather vest. Looks like some kind of leather and Badger Bear Fur. Of course, now it looks like I'm staring and she grins back at me.

"You know, if your flames actually made heat, you could keep my legs warm at least." She gives me a wink, and as drunk as I was, I knew I kept her plenty warm before we both passed out. "You wouldn't believe the amount of new crafts and materials we're going to have to sort through. Care to lend a hand?"

I slip on my clothes, fix the bed, and take a long drink from my waterskin, "Lead the way, my dear."

Damn, she wasn't kidding. I'm staring at the inventory screens of Lady Anne's two crates and the four new ones with the exact same dimensions. I still can't believe how generous she was in gifting them to us. It also boggles the mind to think that these crates the size of small, chest freezers have the same capacity as large shipping containers. As I go through the inventory, Dawn explains that since Kes Solomas is probably the biggest and most diverse market city we're going to come across for a while, it would be best to spend money here instead of hoarding it and not finding anywhere as good.

There's all kinds of food; meats, produce, cheeses, herbs, spices, cooked food, and seeds for farming. I worry that we might have cleared out the markets, but Vic assures me that we wouldn't ruin Kes Solomas' economy with our little shopping spree. We even got a few more barrels of beer and crates of wine. I can't wait to sample some of both, but I try to stay focused.

We sold off a lot of the simple or low tier equipment and focused on buying materials for crafting, since we would have the time and crafters to make higher quality stuff ourselves. This includes: ingots of iron, tin, and copper; more bolts of cloth, linen, silk, felt, and wool; a full palette of dyes; miles of threads for different materials; and dozens of new blueprints for tools, buildings, furniture, and various equipment. I think I even saw several books to help crafters advance in their fields.

Aside from the enigmatic Mimicoins that no one has been able to figure out a purpose for and loot from creatures we've hunted before, we recently stockpiled a cornicopia of new crafting materials from different monsters: the Centogre, Gnolls, Hel Jackets, the Alraune, Spriggans, Styrges, Cerberus, and Cliff Stalkers with their red-orange carapace as tough as quartz.

The group had found several of them swarming over a pack of wolves and it was obvious who the victor was going to be. The wolves weren't exactly grateful for the impromptu rescue, but they weren't acting hostile as they took off so there was that. I take a Cliff Carapace out and examine its rough, sandy texture, comparing it to the red rocks of Sedona which look red by way of traces of iron oxide in the rock. I attempt to bend and flex the piece in my hand, noticing how little it gives, and chalk it up to its increased toughness.

We also double stocked minor crafting staples for various fields: alchemy, scribing, smithing, tailoring, farming, fletching, tinkering, mining, and leatherworking.

"We even broke down and purchased a few more instruments, seeing as the last ball went so well." Dawn has her hands on her hips and chin in the air. "And with all the money we've earned through selling equipment, the restaurant, and from people doing odd jobs and custom crafting, we decided to buy several things we normally wouldn't."

"But how much does all this leave us? I know you said it'd be best to spend it here, but shouldn't we have some money saved for an emergency?" I'm shaking my head and rubbing the back of my neck.

Dawn and Vic exchange a knowing smile before Dawn responds, "All in all, we're sitting comfy at twelve Plat, five hundred Gold, and thousands of Silver and Copper."

I stare at the two of them, dropping the carapace to the floor. Dawn laughs, slaps me on the back, and motions me to follow them.

"Don't you worry, tiki torch, mama's got it all under control."

"Very funny. What about the Chessts we've accumulated? Anything good?" Unfortunately, they explain how we didn't have any time to pop them open yesterday. I continue to follow them towards the exit, passing by the dining area. It's a sea of joyous misery, several people under the effects of a hangover, but hardly straining to smile and laugh at the playful ribbing and teasing from others. The children are the happiest I've ever seen them, probably due to the fact that their parents are happier than they've ever seen them. They're all discussing the events of last night and especially the big fight. Dawn and I wave as they risk a stronger headache cheering at us.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"… knew you could do it Dawn!"

"… get her next time, Ardacen!"

"… lost a Silver on Rachel, but it was a great fight!"

"… our leaders are so strong they have to fight each other to find a challenge."

The last one was kind of cringy, but I appreciate their praise and support. We make it outside the vardo and look about its new parking spot in the center of a barn sized garage. There are carriages and wagons on one side and a long workbench and materials on the other. A few soldiers and some citizens are helping Elsbeth modify the vardo, while two people are working with the summoned Nightmares.

One of them happens to be Richter, although he's acting more as an indirect supervisor. The game's crafting system identifies any involvement in the creation process and, if anyone's classes are missing or underleveled, they would get something that would equate to a brain fart. But, if Richter simply spoke his encyclopedic knowledge of ancient warriors aloud and from a distance while someone else did the hard work, he would be free to do so.

I ask him about this odd setup and he heaves a heavy sigh, "Because, bro, I already have three A classes already. I can't help directly."

I cock my head at him, "I thought you just had Farmer?"

He melodramatily drops his head to the workbench, "Yeah, and Forager. And now…" He shoots back up, grabbing my collar and frowning as hard as he can. He shakes me as he rants, "They got me doing paperwork again, bro! I'm in a fantasy world full of monsters and magic and megababes and they got me doing paperwork!" He buries his face into my shoulder.

I pat him on the shoulder, "There, there, big guy. Who's hurting you? Want me to talk to their mother?"

Richter chuckles and straightens up. He withdraws a quill and parchment, "Bro. Seriously. I'm a Scribe now. I do this shit all day at work and now I'm the Gygexian equivalent of a certified public accountant."

"Actually," I correct him while eyeballing the quill, "You're gonna be more like the office printer. Are we gonna have to spank you every time we want you to work?"

"Don't tempt me, bro." We both laugh and he gets back to what he was doing. And what he is doing is helping the Leatherworker design and craft saddles for the two Nightmares. Given their preference to run bipedally and capability to move quadrapedally, we have to customize saddles for them. Fortunately, using a horse saddle as a starting point and Richter's wisdom in the militaristic advancements in the art of the cavalry as benchmarks, they are able to come up with something.

The crafter ending up being Lavina, apprentice Tinkerer to Rachel and novice Leatherworker and Blacksmith who is about to get a huge boost to her Artisan classes in about five minutes. I didn't know it was her at first since she had some sort of helmet face mask on. With a full cylindrical shape all around and a shallow, sloping top that comes to a dull ridge along the center, it covers her whole head. It's when I first spot Coaster, sitting on the Nightmare's back, that I got my first clue.

"What are you doing here, kiddo?" I ask, getting a fist/scythe bump from my little blue buddy.

She flips up the visor, a curved metal plate with dark glass where the eyes would be. So that's what it is. It's a cross between a jousting helmet and a welder's mask, Lavina's cute, brown furred face below it all.

"Ric needed someone who had Leatherworker and Blacksmith and mine are all really high since we made Sonny's shell." She takes a quick glance at her handy work and motions a thumb at the saddle. "He's lucky I'm a Tinkerer, too. Whatever he was jawing about made no sense to me, so I just made it like this."

"Hey!" Richter furrows his brow and marches over, posing dramatically with his his fists on his hips and chin jutting out at the project. "Wait a minute… You were listening to me!"

Her mask slams shut and muffles her giggling as Richter chases after her with two handfuls of tickles. While they run around the garage, I examine the finished product.

>Scan<[Lavina's Custom Nightmare Saddle. Advanced Journeyman Accessory. Mount/Saddle.

[+30HPMax, +30MPMax, +50SPMax, +10Armor, +10Agility.

[Rider Requirement: 50Arcane. -25MPMax to rider.

[Passive: Automatically adjusts to the posture of a Nightmare.

[Passive: -3SP Drain per 5minutes during Sprint]

I Scan the other parts just to know their names, but the saddle is by far the most important one. I wonder how morbid it is for it to be made from Nightmare Leather, but I put it out of my head. It's well padded and much, much bigger than what I imagine a saddle would look like, but it makes sense as I take a closer look. The flaps are long, and wide to protect both rider and mount during the ride with short, sturdy stirrups hanging down the side. I can guess this is because of the raptor-like way the Nightmare runs and the idea that combat will always be a possibility.

It takes a moment for Richter and Lavina to come back and catch their breath so they can explain things in better detail to me. Well, explain things anyway. As interesting as what they're saying is, I really just want to hop on and take it for a test run.

"…much thicker breast collar since it'll have to hold during two and four legged runs. The pad underneath is imbued with Harpy Feathers like the Cook's uniform to keep it cool during the ride…"

Blah blah blah. Something about a tree. Angle of the rise. Big cantle so I don't fall off during the two legged runs. I realise I'm staring at Coaster as it inspects the saddleèè itself and I get the feeling that Richter stopped talking quite some time ago. I look up at the Half-Elf. Yep. He was done. But I'm spared any animosity since he was mostly talking out loud, his back turned to me and going over Lavina's work. I let out a sigh of relief and stand next to him.

"See?" He asks no one in particular. "These metal stirrups and this thin metal frame using Umbramium is just like the Mongols and their wooden saddle, but with greater comfort and support since our animal has a much longer back."

"Is that why they were such good mounted archers?" I ask, pretending to have been listening to him the whole time.

He nods his head emphatically and places a hand on my shoulder, "Dude? I know you weren't really listening. But you know what? It's okay. I was impressed by Lavi's work more than anything."

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind us turns our heads. Taymin walks closer, joining our inspection of the saddle. "What craftsmanship! I take it the two of you imagined this up, I've never seen a saddle like it."

"Nah, bro." Ric pulls in Lavina next to himself by the outside shoulder, her helm stowed in her new storage ring, and she looks up at Taymin sheepishly. "Here's the great creator." Her eyes dart around, searching for an escape from such an embarassing situation.

"Splendid! And you found a way to compensate for the unique lateral shifting during the bipedal run?" He asks, eyebrow raised in an accusatory way.

I watch her face metamorphosize, the confidence in her smile taking over the awkwardness from earlier, "Gears and sliding plates. That's all I can say right now." She adds a wink to her desire for secrecy. "And because of subtle differences in muscle build, height, and personality, each saddle has to be crafted custom to each Nightmare, and then I think I can do the same for other animals."

He chuckles, "Very impressive! Let's hope you don't get into weapons developement."

She shakes her head, still smiling but thinner and without the shimmer in her eyes, "No, Mister Taymin. I don't think I'll ever go down that road. No offense to the Travelers and soldiers, but I don't believe Arc needs anymore new weapons.

"But I don't think less of anyone that does make them, especially you guys since you make them to protect everyone. It's not like you use them to bully others or go to war."

Her last points come out quickly with defensive waves of her hands. Richter shuffles her hair and ears, causing them to flop about, and we all share a laugh. Taymin gives Richter and Lavina a slight bow and turns to me.

"If you have a moment, Ardacen, I'd like to have a word with you. I'm sure you know as to why." I give him a nod and wish the two luck on the second saddle. We walk a little ways away from the vardo but stay inside the garage. It's subtle, but I notice that he's letting me lead us to where I want to have the discussion. I definitely don't want to lay down anywhere and have him off to the side, stroking his furry muzzle contemplatively.

"Can we just go for a walk? I don't want to sit down." He nods and smiles and I lead us out of the garage. "So, where do we start?" I've spoken to a counselor at the hospital a few times and I feel like they helped, but I think somewhere in the back of my mind I was really hoping for a quick fix. Share your feelings, cry a bit, and then boom all better.

Yeah, it really doesn't work that way. I was able to learn a few coping techniques that I often used like deep breathing and meditation. They did help for a while, but after I started working two jobs, it was like I didn't have time to think much anything else during most of my day. So, with a majority of my twenty four hours going to work, some going into melatonin assisted sleep, and the rest into putting on brave and happy faces for Mom during my visits, I didn't really have much time to sit and ponder. And then I got the invite.

A couple of hours of wandering around Gaveston's estate and light chatting go by before we even get to the subject of the candle or my actions yesterday. My heart starts pounding in my throat and my lungs piston for air, expecting him to either lay into me or ask me for my thoughts about what happened. I look over at his greying fur and wise disposition, expecting pearls of wisdom to pour out from him. I didn't want to be rude, but I had a feeling that I would start spacing out if that were to happen. I didn't want to ruin the pleasent atmosphere.

After remembering what I learned in the hospital, I force my shallow breathing to slow down and to elongate, filling my virtual lungs to the brim before exhaling through my teeth. I cycle this a few times before Taymin places a paw on my shoulder and laughs, "We still can't believe you went through with it."

That… is not the reaction I was expecting from my psychologist. Sensing my bewilderment, he calms his laughter down to a light smile and I return the gesture with a nod, still unsure if people can see me smiling.

"You don't have to share the details," he says, "but I'm going to venture a few guesses, if I may. Before you lit the candle and possibly before you and the other Travelers came to Arc…

"You experienced something quite terrible, didn't you?" I turn my head away. If I really could smile, then it would be disolving. "Now, the way I've come to undertand it is, and please feel free to interrupt me if I'm at all inaccurate, the effects of the candle you endured most likely rekindled dormant thoughts and emotions and magnified them."

We're in the middle of a dirt pathway cutting through a lush garden. My pace has slowed to a step every five seconds or so and I'm staring blankly ahead. Taymin takes my silence as confirmation to continue.

"I'm able to see that you had found guidance at one point, but something distracted you from both trauma and coping, as if putting them on hold…"

"Until I lit the candle," I croak, rubbing the back of my neck and sighing wistfully.

"Yes, well…"

"I wanted power and I wanted it right away, consequences be damned." My shoulders slump and I drag my feet through the dirt, sitting on a nearby bench. I'm facing the flora, but I'm not really looking at it. I barely notice as Taymin sits next to me, "My actions were inherintly selfish and I ignored several people's advice against using it. It's my own fault I'm being haunted by… what do you call it again?"

"Firstly, the candles are a trap, created along the same lines as how a Djinn works. You are given that which you desire, but at a great cost that you didn't expect. Those who use the candle assume the torture is the cost when in actuality it's the after effects.

"You'll have both a great gift and a great burden to bear for the rest of your life. As Travelers, I can only imagine what that's going to be like. But, blessing or curse, it really is all up to you to decide on how you will treat either."

I sigh in resignation, but nod, "I suppose. Well--"

"Second," Taymin interrupts, "And this goes along with the first part, the candles are a trap." I turn my head sharply to him in confusion. Didn't he just say that was first?

He places his paws together in front of him as one would if they were praying, "As a trap, you cannot blame yourself for falling for it. Like I said, you were under the wrong impression about the give and take. You thought the take part was going to be temporary suffering.

"You can't fault yourself for that. Sure, YOU chose to use it, but who wouldn't, really? If I were to promise you a hundred Plat if you allowed me to hit you, while showing off my fist…" Taymin forms a fist with one of his hands for emphasis. "Would you be suprised if I smashed your face in with a club instead? Think of it as a devilish bait and switch."

I exhale a couple of short, quick laughs through my nose and smile up at him. "Thanks, Taymin. Oh, and I remember what you called it. The Wraith of the Battlefield. Something that'll haunt me for the rest of my days, well, nights anyway."

Taymin's paw sits firmly on my shoulder, "And that's going to be point number three..."