We left with haste as if the world was about to collapse just for a gig that pays about as poorly as the rabbit quest before the bonuses and extra compensation. Because Val wanted to visit the fabled vista of the Azure Coast and Mom insisted on going on some weirdly popular crab genocide.

I’m not actually mad. I missed these sandy beaches, the wild salty breeze, and the soft sound of the waves. I grew up on the coast after all. Once a girl of the docks always a girl of those dirty, fish-stench-covered, noiseful docks.

We’re here a day or two early I think. Which does make me mad because why the hurry if we had ample time? Either that or we completely missed the place, which sounds unlikely considering the task.

Every year around the same week millions of Thorny Blue Crabs march onto the beach, turning the land blue and gathering in the forest to… cook up little crabs.

It’s kinda like the Elder Line up north in Turan, except the civilized world won’t be on the brink of destruction if we fail to kill enough. They disturb the hunters and their meat fetches a modest sum, that’s the only reason we’re here.

“Can you show me what our Coin looks like?” Valka slides next to me and whispers. “I can’t make it shine.”

Before departing we got ourselves some pretty coins made that serve a similar purpose as the hunter’s emblem. Identification and proof of expertise. These beauties are quite large for a coin and react to blood which is even more difficult to fake. They have the image of Eborden on one side surrounded by thorns while on the other is a windrose surrounded by stars.

Gotta give it to whoever came up with the design, they nailed it.

“What do you mean?” I look at her ridiculously. “Just drop some blood on it. Nick your finger or… Oh.” She can’t cut herself. We don’t have anything sharp or enchanted enough besides maybe Mom’s spear. “So… what? Want me to hit you hard enough for your nose to bleed? A rock? Or explosions?” I ask sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes, grabs my hand, and holds it to her mouth. “Don’t act stupid or I’ll bite a finger off and see it for myself.” She threatens while looking straight into my eyes.

I know she’s joking and still the cold runs down my back. Her teeth are more than sharp enough to cut through my flesh and I doubt her jaws would have any problem either. But it’s neither of those factors that make her truly intimidating.

It’s her presence.

It was a short lecture Martha gave me between two dancing lessons. Us Mages influence the mana often unconsciously, making it bend to our will by simply breathing. That is if the mage in question is powerful enough. She called it aura or in the case of monsters like her, a domain.

One can learn to control it but otherwise, it’d exert a suffocating pressure as the surrounding mana would no longer be completely free.

In the case of Warriors, something similar is true. Anything with the intelligence above grass can recognize a powerful creature just from a single glance, their steps, demeanor, muscles, and the body as a whole. It’s intimidating, and Val is already showing signs of it.

I reluctantly take my knife, make a little cut and smear the blood onto the metal. “A simple please would’ve been enough though.” I add.

The same glow Mom showed us appears, albeit the image is a lot… less. The outlines of the engravings barely light up.

“Meh.” Valka shrugs. “Thanks anyway.”

“My thoughts exactly.” I nod and put the coin away. It hopefully stops glowing after some time. “Did you Class up your… what was its name?”

“Storm Strider.” Valka repeats the name for the umpteenth time with the same pride.

“Yeah, that. Still level 18?” I wave off her enthusiasm.

“I might be excited to take the next step and keep making you eat dirt but I won’t lose out on quality because of childish impatience.” She huffs and crosses her arms. I think she learned that from me.

Now I know her well enough to recognize a lie right away. She’s at her breaking point, far too eager to grasp strength and I can’t really fault her.

“Good girl.” I pat her shoulder. It’s easy to catch her eyes widening and her cheeks slightly reddening. “Be sure to use the Skills instead of just mindlessly bashing, okay?”

“Oh you little-”

Someone is grumpy and it’s not just because of me. She already hates the approaching summer heat, constantly whining that it's way too hot and how much better it was at home. And there’s no way she’s serious. No way that a frozen mountaintop with only a single type of weather, cold as fuck, could ever compare to the gentle sunlight and smooth breeze combo we have here.

“Girls, we’re here and no longer alone. Behave!” Dad warns before we make fools of ourselves.

Just a little over, where the grass meets the golden sand, camps are set up in the dozens. Tents and campfires have people mingling around them, waiting for the job to start or just resting on their journey wherever it may lead. Now there are no doubts we’re at the right place. The only thing left is to look for a suitable spot to set up camp and pass the time, something I’ve been looking forward to.

It wasn’t all too easy to write while walking and at night Dad didn’t appreciate me doodling on the ground, ignoring our surroundings. A solid three days of being denied my right to play with my newest Skills. This little trip better be worth it.

“What now?” I ask, hoping for a certain answer.

Mom gives me an unimpressed look for my lack of subtleness then shoos me off. “Do whatever, just do not bother anyone, and don't do anything stupid!”

I won’t even act huffy or outraged, it’s Mom I’m up against and my record is firmly against me. I don’t even have to do anything for something stupid to find me.

Since Val is basically melting in the heat and I’m back at the beach I’ve been fond of since I could walk it's time to dip into the salty waves of nostalgia. Clothes meant to get soaking wet with salty water aren’t among our supplies as we packed in a hurry.

So I improvise.

I grab a few things from the bags, nudge Val a few steps away from our stuff, and encase ourselves with an earth dome. I want some privacy and we should have at least a minute or two worth of air in here. I create a spark of light and get to work.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The shirts can stay and I’ll just dry them with magic but when they get wet… yeah, they kinda lose their purpose. Wearing leather pants would just be straight-up heavy and uncomfortable so I brought two tools. Some random cloth, rope and bandages. Truly the solution to everything.

As the dome comes down we are revealed in all our magnificence. Bandages around the chest under the shirt with rolled-up sleeves and makeshift shorts on us from the cloth and held together by some rope.

“Eli I don’t feel comfortable-” My friend shrinks in her clothes as if the Valka fighting in tatters while covered in blood was a whole other person.

“Potato, potato.” I dump my actual clothes beside our bags. “It holds. See? You kept whining that it's too hot so what is there to worry about?”

Let’s hope it works.

“Look at the both of you!” Mom whistles with a nod of approval. “Don’t take the breath of too many men, they’ll be useful tomorrow when the numbers swell too much. Now off you go!”

I skip down the beach without a worry in the world while also feeling some gazes on me as I get to the water. It’s not the type of looks Mom warned me about, I’m too young for that. But even if it is... well, that someone is probably tired of having their sight.

What can I say… just like the Blessing, looking fine has its own curse. That or people just find it weird how nonchalantly we go for a swim when things are about the get crabby. I think we'll be good.

I squeal a little as my toes dip into the water. It’s cold. Not too cold or anything, but rather a habit I had back when I was little. Probably the only cutesy side of me left. Fortitude also has a minor role in regulating the impact of temperature on our bodies, something I have quite an abundance of compared to little Eli.

That begs the question… What is Valka bitching about? She has like ten times my physical attributes and all that. I think it’s all in her head.

Taking a deep breath I just sprint into the water and dive headfirst below the gentle waves. As the sandy bottom slants and gives room to the deeper seabed the scenery below the surface changes so much that it makes me wonder whether I am in the same world or if I’m dreaming.

The colors, the creatures, the forests of corals, the way my hair floats, or the sounds of the currents… I pity those who die without seeing this marvel.

Just imagining what else might hide out there, below the waves or hidden in lush forests waiting to be discovered… As much as I hate leaving civilization behind I doubt I could stay put forever.

When I surface, to take a deep breath and get rid of any water that seeped in through my nose or mouth Valka is still standing on the shore and watching the tiny waves carefully. Like a cat acting allergic to water.

This has to be a fucking joke… If this was a horde of monsters or, hell, even fire, she’d throw herself at it without a second thought. Oh wait, she can’t swim, can she?

I don’t waste any breath on sweet words or encouragements. A massive orb of water parts from the surface and I raise an eyebrow as reality dawns on Valka’s face. She dodges the first ball, so I send six more, then bigger splashes, tentacles of water dragging her into the depths, and at last, after all the complaining and begging, she’s defeated.

This might be an actual weakness of hers… We need to work on that.

***

Spent and with water flowing even from our nose, we lay on the hot sand and let the sun dry us as we catch our breath. All in all, it was a fair fight. She treated me like a ragdoll and tried to drown me since she was able to hold her breath much longer while I relied on air magic not to die and used the water to wrestle for control.

It was fun. Like the brawls we had back in Meliorport ages ago. And I’ve clearly won.

“Clean it!” Val grumbles. “There’s sand everywhere and I don’t like the smell. My eyes are also itchy.”

I do as she asks off-handedly, mostly because I agree, while my eyes are stuck somewhere else. An old-looking dwarf walks around the beach crouching down from time to time and fiddling around with rocks he pulls from his pocket. This in itself is nothing extraordinary, the three-year-old me could copy that, but it is the mana swirling around his hands that catches my attention.

I get up and walk a little closer while calling on Mana Perception to make me wiser. It’s curiosity that draws me in, edging me for answers for something weird I’ve noticed. As the world turns colorful with the use of the Skill my intuition is confirmed. Little bundles of concentrated magic are left in the sand wherever the dwarf passed, arranged in a large area across the beach.

“Hey, stop where you are!” A voice shouts from my left and I instinctively get ready to fight. “Calm your horses, pipsqueak!” A man who resembles Bennett if I imagined in his prime winks at me. I hate the fact that he’s arguably handsome. “I’ll point it out, just in case there’s a problem with your eyes, those little red flags mark where not to go.”

I follow his fingers and see a few small sticks with pieces of red cloth on them.

“They look like thrash.” I shrug because backing down would be the same as acknowledging that I completely missed them. “And you can’t tell me where not to go.”

At this point, Valka comes up next to me as backup, just in case things go south.

[Warrior lvl ???]

She would make little difference.

“If you want to lose a leg then by all means go ahead.” The dude chuckles. “It’s also rude to spy on the craft of someone else. Didn’t-”

“Alex, it's fine.” I hear a voice that must belong to the dwarf, judging by its deep gravelly ring. “If I don’t try to hide something that’s because it's no secret.” Then his deep brown eyes land on me. “If you’re curious then I don’t mind you watching but only if you can avoid the bombs. Proceed at your own caution!”

Bombs? Damn. As much as I dislike this Alex guy for the way he pointed out things and his looks reminding me of Bennett, I’m also thankful because he might’ve saved my skin. I glance back to our stuff and see my parents look antsy, Dad already with his bow in hand. Probably because it might look like I ended up in a… stupid situation.

A small smile and a quick thumbs-up defuse the situation.

“You curious?” I turn to Valka.

“Nah, hungry.” She replies using the minimum amount of words and returns to our camp. Without lowering her guard of course.

Mana Perception changes my view of reality again. It was the Skill that presented me with a glance into a new world, the second one I discovered and one I probably know even less about than what lies beneath the waves.

I move past the invisible line of little flags and step between two bundles of mana… then it all turns into a game of hopscotch. Reverse hopscotch, spiced with a little danger.

The bombs are not too tightly packed and neither are they overly sensitive so I reach the dwarf without much effort. Literally dancing through danger, like usual. He’s crouched with another piece of rock in his hand while lava drips down the other as he draws onto the surface of the stone with his fingers.

Just my luck… He’s old, or at least that’s what the long salt and pepper bear is telling me, and old men are the most irritating species to ever exist. Especially dwarfs and their inherently difficult personalities. Simple brown leather armor covers his stocky body with a large satchel on his side and glasses on his bald head.

“Your first time seeing someone do inscriptions?” He murmurs without taking his eyes off his work.

At first, I nod due to being too invested in observing the works before realizing my mistake. “Yeah.” I lie because it’s faster. I should really get rid of this habit of mine.

“Do you see it?” He asks an ambiguous question, yet I fully know what he’s talking about.

Wherever his fingers touch the mana stays. It usually dissipates after we relinquish control because everything has its own mana by standard and all we do is cram our own in there to make it move. An imbalance that evens out without meddling hands.

Not here.

It’s just like my writing Skill, except mine only adds a bit of water and binds light mana while this… The lines remain like writing on paper and seep into the piece of rock doing… Yeah, that’s the real mystery. What are they doing?

“How is this-” I start to mumble.

“Silence. You don’t need your mouth to observe.” The dwarf interrupts.

I continue searching for answers in the lines. No not lines… letters? Words? I can’t make sense of whatever marks he leaves on the surface but it becomes clear that the lines alone are only parts of the bigger picture. How they remain stable remains a mystery only a Skill can answer. Martha taught me they shouldn’t yet my eyes tell me otherwise.

After long I switch my focus from the result to the process, to his finger. While carving each line the thick, almost sticky-looking mana is smeared into those grooves, like some kind of ointment…

Maybe coming on this journey wasn’t a complete waste of time after all.