I lunged, my kitchen knife flashing like a serpent, aiming for the chinks in Flint's defense.

His broomstick intercepted with a solid block, the impact resonating through the silent streets.

Flint smiled, spinning his staff. "What do you think the card mages want?" he asked as he circled to my weaker side.

I shrugged, "I don't know, maybe they are just tourists here to sample some of Alden's famous wine."

I didn't want to tell him that I’d dreamt about the woman, and a day later she’d appeared in our village. It just didn't make sense. The dream had been bizarre, she’d stood there staring at me with those piercing eyes as she questioned me about my life.

Flint snorted, "Tourists, right, as if anyone would come all this way just to look at our shit-hole village."

He lunged forward, aiming a powerful thrust at my stomach.

I pivoted and swept the attack away with a flick of my knife. As the broomstick whistled through the air, I countered with a quick slice to Flint's side.

He roared as the knife found its mark, drawing a thin line of blood. I made sure the cut was shallow.

"You're getting slow in your old age," I said, grinning.

He laughed, "I'm two months older than you."

Before I could reply, he whirled around, delivering a backwards strike which caught me on the shoulder. I grunted as the blow sent me reeling.

"You said something earlier today, something about having exciting news," Flint said as I righted myself.

I grinned. "I'd rather show you."

Flint laughed again, "Well, you can show me later. Right now, I have a fight to win."

He charged forward again, his staff pointed directly at my face.

I ducked under the thrust and stepped into his guard, grabbing his arm and twisting. He spun around, his staff clipping me on the side of the head. I stumbled and released my grip, giving Flint an opening to deliver a powerful blow to my chest.

I blocked the strike but was driven to my knees by the force.

"You're going down," Flint said, his eyes burning with the heat of battle.

He advanced towards me, his staff poised to strike. I gritted my teeth and rose to my feet.

As he brought the broomstick down, I ducked under the blow and rolled away.

The wooden staff slammed into the cobblestone street where I had been kneeling, cracking the stone.

"Is that all you've got?" I taunted him.

He growled and rushed forward, swinging the staff with deadly accuracy. I dodged the first strike and deflected the second, but the third hit me squarely in the stomach. I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me.

Flint loomed over me, his face twisted into a triumphant smile. "I win again."

I laid there for a moment, winded and groaning in pain, and then an unmistakable pinging sound echoed in my ears.

"You hear that?" I murmured.

For a second I thought I'd imagined it. But then the noise came again. A soft tinkling sound like wind chimes on a breezy summer day. I sat up, ignoring the pain.

"Flint!"

Golden writing spread before me, letters shining against a background of white light.

[Achievement Completed: Path to Dagger Mastery]

[Requirements: Train with a dagger for over 10,000 hours]

I stared at the text in wonder. I'd been a gamer, an avid one, but this was a first.

A second ping sounded, and I heard Flint’s gasp of surprise as his own achievement was completed.

The letters shimmered and changed, reforming to present me with an ornate silver box.

"What the..."

I reached out and touched the surface. It felt like real metal, and it was cold to the touch. I tapped the lid and heard the soft tinkling sound of bells.

I couldn't believe it, I'd completed an achievement, without even knowing what I was doing. I grinned and looked up at Flint.

"You seeing this?" I asked.

Flint nodded, staring at his own box in stunned silence.

My box opened with a soft click. Inside, resting on a velvet pillow, was a shining dagger with an ornate handle, carved from a monster's horn.

[Reward: Relic Weapon: Swiftblade]

"By Teon's hairy balls!" Flint yelled, "We got relic weapons."

I laughed as I held the dagger up to the light, admiring the fine workmanship.

"It's magic!" Flint exclaimed, "This staff is light as a feather."

I turned to my friend, a broad grin on my face. He held his own new weapon, a polished oak staff with thick iron bands on either end. It looked heavy, but he whirled it in the air like it was a child's toy.

I slashed my dagger through the air and could swear my movements felt swifter than usual—more fluid.

"One step closer to our dreams, my friend," I said with a smile.

Flint patted me on the back, "Never doubted it for a second."

I'd heard of people completing achievements, and I knew that the Tower always rewarded those who excelled. I'd never believed I could earn such a reward, not here, not in this dead-end town. But I had and now, nothing was holding us back.

Flint looked at me, "So what was your news?" he asked.

I didn't want to dull his excitement by talking about my spell card or the fact that I'd actually died in Old Town. No, that would ruin this moment.

"It doesn't matter right now," I said, "I want to see these weapons in action."

Flint grinned, "Then let's get back to training."

***

As the sun began to set over Misty Hollow, Flint and I lay exhausted on a patch of grass in the center of the square. We’d trained with our new relic weapons for hours, and after confirming on our status screens, it was clear that they did have a magic of their own.

At first, using the relic dagger was disorientating, as the timing of my blocks and strikes were all too early. But I got used to it, and soon I was blocking every powerful strike of Flint's without even being aware of my actions.

Swiftblade increased my speed by two, and Flint’s Mighty Grasp increased his strength by the same amount.

My hands were still trembling from the impact of his blows as I lay on the soft grass, whistling, 'snap! crackle! pop!', the tune playing in my mind.

Flint rolled onto his side and looked at me, "What the hell are you whistling?"

I smiled, "Nothing, just a tune."

He shook his head and lay back on the grass.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

We both lay there, enjoying the stillness.

"We need to get more achievements," I said, looking up at Flint. "What other ones do you know about?"

Flint thought about it for a moment, "There's the Master Tailor achievement," he finally said.

"We don't have the skill for that."

"What about Speedy Gatherer," he said, and then he shook his head, "The resources we need to gather for that are pretty rare these days."

"There has to be more achievements," I muttered, "maybe something for killing a bunch of monsters really quickly or visiting every location on the Genesis floor."

Flint laughed, "We'd die a hundred times trying to visit every location."

He had a point, but I still felt there had to be something.

Flint pulled a wine skin from his bag, uncorked it and took a deep swig. It was his post training tradition, a cheap bottle of Alden red.

I watched the wine run down his chin and splash on his shirt. He was a good friend, the best, but the longer I thought about it, the less sure I was that I should tell him about my spell card.

I didn't know what was holding me back, maybe guilt, but I wasn't sure what I felt guilty about, or maybe fear that things would change between us.

I knew what it was like to be different, even on Earth I'd been the odd one out, and I wasn't ready for Flint to treat me that way.

"What's bothering you?" he asked, offering the wine skin to me. "You should be happy, our first achievement completed, with many more to come."

I took a sip. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until the cool liquid tickled my throat.

He was right, I should have been happy, in one day I’d received a foundation card, I'd seen a griffin, and I'd been granted a magic weapon from the Tower. I didn't understand why I was feeling so down.

"I can't shake the feeling that something bad is coming," I said, taking another long sip of wine.

"You think it has something to do with those card mages?" Flint asked.

I shrugged noncommittally and handed the wine skin back to him.

We had been locked away in our village for so long, I wasn't sure what was going on in the outside world anymore. Maybe I had to register my card or pay a tax. Shit for all I knew having my own card was illegal.

I shuddered, thinking of the consequences of being caught with a card. I could picture the guards dragging me out of town, like they had done to my father.

"They’ve spent a lot of time questioning people," Flint said, watching me from the corner of his eye.

I nodded slowly, "It's strange."

Flint laid down on his back, looking up at the stars, "You think they're looking for something?"

"Maybe," I said. "I get the feeling—" I stopped myself mid thought before saying anything else.

Flint glanced at me and waited.

"You get the feeling they are watching us?" he asked.

I looked at him, "Have you had any strange dreams lately?"

Flint wiped his chin with the back of his sleeve, "I don't remember my dreams most nights," he patted the wine skin. "A side effect of this, I guess."

I plucked a blade of grass and chewed on it. It tasted sour.

"So!" he finally said, "You obviously want to tell me about your dream, what happened?"

I thought about lying but decided against it, "That female mage was in my dreams last night."

"But they only arrived this morning."

I shook my head, "I don't know how it's possible, maybe she used a spell card on me?"

Flint laughed, "You are getting carried away with all this. Why would she be after you, it's not like you have a spell card that she wants."

I smiled weakly, "Yeah, I guess so."

I spat out the blade of grass, "Are you hungry?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Always," Flint said, grinning.

I opened up my backpack, and produced a half loaf of bread and a piece of hard cheese, and then broke the bread and handed it to him.

We ate in silence for some time, both of us lost in our own thoughts. But my mind kept coming back to my dream. It had felt so real, the woman's piercing eyes haunted me every moment since she'd arrived in town.

Eventually, Flint broke the silence. He waved a chunk of bread at me and said, "When I become a mage, I want a spell card that improves the flavor of everything I eat."

I looked up at him. He seemed serious, and I couldn't help but smile. "That's one hell of a dream, Flint."

This is my moment to tell him about my card.

I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, unsure what to say.

Flint noticed me hesitating, he patted me on the back. "Our life isn't so bad. Look at Protector Alden. His foundation card has the worst side effect ever."

I shrugged, "So the man can't get drunk anymore, that's a small price to pay for the ability to turn water into wine."

Flint looked at me for a moment and then packed out laughing, "You can't tell me the gods don't have a sense of humor."

I laughed. "I wouldn't call that a sense of humor, if anything it proves that gods are all bastards."

We both laughed and then came up short when Protector Evelyn came walking by. She was a kithara and had rows of sleek, sharp quills instead of traditional hair covering her scalp and her neck. Her quills bristled as she walked, and her face was pinched with worry.

As soon as she saw us, her quills drooped, the frown disappeared, replaced by her customary smile.

"Evening, gentlemen," she said, giving us a curt nod.

"Protector," I said, and Flint gave a clumsy bow.

Her and Alden were the only non-humans in our village. It had been strange seeing them for the first time when I was six but now it seemed perfectly natural to me and I hardly gave it a second thought.

"You two look like you've been training hard," she said, "That's good, our village needs all the warriors it can get."

I nodded, not knowing what to say. I hadn't spoken much to the Protectors before. They usually kept to themselves, their days spent maintaining the barrier.

She waved at us, "Send my greetings to your parents," she said before turning again and leaving.

Flint and I exchanged a glance, and then he muttered, "You'd think she'd look more cheerful, she's a bloody card mage."

I shrugged, watching her leave and seeing the quills on her neck rise once again. I'd never understood why a pair of kitharas had come to protect a village of humans right after the blight first appeared. I wondered how they had found out about Misty Hollow, and whether they had left behind family and friends.

"That's one good thing about small communities," I said. "Everyone's family, one way or another."

"I think that's the worst part," Flint said. "Hell, I've known who I was going to marry since I was ten."

"Molly?" I said, with a grin.

Flint shrugged, "Not like there's much choice. If we don't leave this floor soon, you'll end up marrying Sylvia, and you and I will spend our nights at the Waystone Inn complaining about our wives and all the things that could have been."

He sighed and took another sip. "It's depressing."

***

The following day, Flint and I headed over to the blacksmith to deliver a haul of iron nails we'd salvaged from an abandoned house on the east side of the village.

The smithy was located in a courtyard beside a building that belonged to the local priest, Father Baragad. Before the Night of Sorrows he had run the village temple.

The temple had burnt down that night, and the priest had given up on his faith and settled down with a local villager named Kyle. The priest still wore his brown ceremonial robes and sandals, and still offered advice to anyone who sought it, but his attitude towards the gods, like our own, had turned sour.

The blacksmith’s shop was run by Gabbro Basalt, a tough one eyed man that had hunted with my father when they were younger. His missing eye had kept him from ascending the Tower with the other warriors. He’d never said it, but I often wondered if he was racked with guilt for having stayed home when all his friends were now dead.

"Four coppers for the lot," said the burly blacksmith, as he inspected the pile of rusty nails.

Flint scratched his chin, "Irons hard to find these days, with the mines being shut down and all..."

Gabbro raised an eyebrow, "Four's my final offer. I'd give ya more, but the missus won't have none of it."

"That's not enough," I said, "We risked our lives for these nails."

"Well there's a lesson for you boys," the smith replied, picking his hammer up and tapping it against the anvil, "You shouldn't be running around pilfering dead folk's belongings, you should be in school learning a trade."

It wasn't the first time the blacksmith had tried lecturing us. I understood where he was coming from, but he didn't fully understand our circumstances. Flint and I were the breadwinners of our families, if we didn't work we wouldn't eat. It was just that simple.

"Four coppers will have to do," I said, holding my hand out.

The blacksmith harrumphed, "Bloody ungrateful bastards."

He slid four copper coins onto the counter, but he did not release the coins.

I expected him to start up his lecture again, but instead he snorted and added two more coins to the pile, "Get out of here before I change my mind."

I smiled at the old man and stuffed the coins into my pocket. "Pleasure doing business with you," I said, with a small bow of my head.

I spun on my heel ready to leave, and walked straight into someone coming through the doorway.

"Careful, lad!" said a cool voice.

My heart dropped as I looked up at the man. The first thing I noticed was the red glassed monocle he wore. The next was the ebony cane which tapped along the ground as he walked.

"Sorry, sir," I stammered, stepping aside.

The card mage leaned close to me, "Call me Malachi."

He smiled, revealing a mouth of pearly white teeth. "I saw your duel the other day. Impressive indeed. You lads show great promise."

I felt my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands. It felt like he was looking into my soul, digging up my secrets.

The man nodded at Flint, who was standing awkwardly beside me. "It looked like you were the winner in the end."

I patted my friend on the back trying to act natural, "It's his freakishly long arms. Makes him hard to hit."

Flint grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, well, I'm fast too."

"No need for modesty, lad," said Malachi. "You both showed courage and skill in your duel. For a card mage, there is nothing more important than courage."

Malachi turned away and called out to Gabbro, "How is the progress on the items I commissioned?"

Gabbro stepped forward rubbing his beefy hands together, "Ah, yes, they'll be completed by the end of the day, I assure you."

"Good, good," said Malachi.

I nudged Flint and we both edged towards the exit, but as we reached it, the card mage turned to us, "My partner and I will be dining at the Waystone Inn tomorrow night. If you gentlemen cared to join us."

I looked up at him, and he adjusted his monocle and smiled.

"We have a proposition for you," he continued, "One that I’m sure will capture your interest."

***