Glade heard a fair amount of muttering around himself and Kedryn as they turned to the introductory page. A beautifully handwritten note greeted him.

Strategist Glade - Master of Storms, Sah’eld to Da'Riya Ki'Loshere, Royally Bonded to Bei'Kedryn Serevlir of House Serevlir, and Blood Brother to Krazzik Slaghammer of the Slaghammer Clan,

This tome has been placed within your care as recognition per the Dictates of Achievement, even if said achievement was not earned in an official manner.

As promised, this Treatise is the complete work of Amateur skill level basics within your attunement. The information provided is written in such a way that even someone of your cognitive abilities should be able to successfully deduce at least a modicum of the mystic arts…

If the title hadn’t spelled out that Acumen’s book was the short bus version of magical instruction, then the prick of an Adjudicator certainly covered the topic in excruciating detail here. Acumen had even taken the time to provide a formal introduction, listing out Glade’s titles, like he was mocking him.

Any lingering regret of using the tome as a glorified billy club against the spiders vanished.

Not caring to read how little Acumen thought of him, Glade skipped the rest of the introduction and went straight to the table of contents.

“You must have left quite the impression on him,” Kedryn ventured, fighting a repressed grin.

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” Glade said with a shrug, ignoring Bragden’s raised voice as everyone began talking around them. “That being said, I hope the instruction is as good as he talked it up to be. I barely understand what I’m doing.”

“Can I ask a question?” Kedryn asked hesitantly. “About your judgement I mean.”

“Sure,” Glade replied, giving the Corporal his full attention. According to the dwarves, everyone’s judgement was supposed to be some sacred event that was not to be shared with others. But that didn’t make sense. Why would you purposefully put others in the dark if you didn’t have to?

“I’ll share what I can,” he replied, and meant it. “What specifically do you want to know?”

“Well, Bragden’s eyes practically popped out of his head when you came back with this book. I also saw that you evolved two of your brands after your rebirth, not to mention a few extra skills. From talking with Croon and the others, only people in fairy tales and legends sung in ballads come back from a rebirth with those kinds of gifts. How did you earn them?”

“Dumb luck and a good memory for names,” Glade sighed. “Here’s what I can tell you. If you ever find yourself in front of the Adjudicators, and you know any of their names, call them out. If you do, they are obligated by some rule to give you a gift. That is how I got their attention in the first place as well as the reason for being granted my time dilation skill and this…” he indicated the tome on the table.

“Really? That sounds easy enough. I mean, Acumen already introduced himself to me when we first stumbled through the gate.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“You know his name?” Glade’s replied, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Of course, now that he thought about it, Kedryn had said the adjudicator of intellect’s name before. “Then you’re already half way…”

“Stop, you fools!” Bragden hissed, staggering up to the table and grabbing both men by their arms. His face was as white as a ghost, giving both of them an incredulous look. “Don’t ye feel it!? Ye’ve drawn one o’ their gazes upon us with yer slagging lip flapping!”

Startled, Glade looked around. Everyone was standing in silence, watching them with both fear and apprehension. An oppressive calm filled the hall, like the feeling right before a tornado is about to touch down.

“Uhhh… what is happening?” Kedryn asked, taking in the worried glances and Bragden’s fear filled eyes. “Why are you looking at us like someone just died?”

“Ye slagging branded and royal idiots are going to be the death o’ me,” he choked out. “I should have guessed at least one o’ ye know an Adjudicator’s name, seein as normal rules don’t seem to apply to either o’ ye. Now, which one o’ you bloody fools done spoke an Adjudicator’s name aloud and which one o’ the Blessed Eight was it?”

Glade opened his mouth to speak but was again interrupted by the surly dwarf.

“And for all our sakes, do not repeat the name aloud!”

“Both of us spoke his name,” Kedryn finally said, looking between him and Bragden. “If I understand correctly, it’s the name for the adjudicator of intellect.”

“Both of ye?” Bragden’s hoarse voice rasped out.

Glade was missing something. Was this like the old ghost stories where if you said Bloody Mary three times in front of a mirror a ghost would show up? If so, he was seriously considering speaking Acumen’s name out loud just to annoy the man. Or Adjudicator. Whatever.

“I also know the adjudicator of honor’s name,” Glade added more as an afterthought.

“Course ye’d know two names,” the dwarf wheezed, sitting heavily in the chair between them. “Slagging branded.”

The oppressive calm intensified as the awkward silence dragged on. Finally, Glade decided to ask the obvious question.

“This is obviously a big deal for everyone,” he began tentatively. “But this is all new for us. What’s the big deal if we speak the Adjudicator’s names aloud?”

Bragden opened and closed his mouth, trying to force the words that wouldn’t come. Finally, he just looked to the heavens as if pleading for strength.

“To openly speak one of their names is to invite their all-seeing eyes to render judgment,” Riya said, startling Glade and the others. He had no idea she was even standing there! “From what I’ve read, there are very few within the known realms who have been granted such a boon.”

“The lass has the right o’ it,” Bragden responded. “Those who have earned the right to name one o’ the Blessed Eight' openly are considered strategic assets for kingdoms. Even the Crag only has one dwarf who has been granted that right and he’s a senior advisor to the King! They may call upon the Eight at any time to settle disputes, to swear an unbreakable oath or vow, or in extreme circumstances to aid in skill advancement if’n there be no one who can graduate a person’s skill to the next rank. But even that last one be for those lookin to be Masters or for any who have unique skills! No one, and I mean no one, would even think to banter one o’ the Eight’s names about like…” Bragden’s eyes crossed as he tried to come up with an appropriate metaphor. “Like gossipin girls who haven’t grown their first whiskers!”

The last part Bragden hissed, still looking as if heaven itself was about to crash down upon them.

“What happens if their name is called accidentally?” Kedryn asked, a worried look on his face.

“I don’t know!” Bragden snapped. “Cause no one has been slagging dumb enough to ever do it!”

“I’ve never read anything that indicates someone mistakenly calling one of their names either,” she said looking resigned, which was better than the look Bragden was giving them. The bald dwarf’s nostrils were literally flaring.

After another awkward moment, Glade decided he should probably say something.

“Me bad,” he said with a shrug.

Bragden eyes bulged so far out of his head Glade thought they were going to pop out.

Instead of waiting for whatever tongue lashing the surly dwarf was most assuredly going to give them, Glade turned to the crowd who was looking on with apprehension.

“Does anyone have a skill they are looking to advance?” he called.

Bragden began making choking noises.