Abby sat next to Zeke, her fingers intertwined with his underneath the table as she looked from one member of their impromptu party to the next. Whatever surge of life Talia had experienced after consuming the Jotun heart had disappeared in the two days since they’d fled the giants’ territory, and she was back to her old, eerily motionless self. Abby couldn’t help but feel a little wary of the girl, though. After all, she’d seen just how powerful the young woman had become, and she had no illusions about how she’d fare against something like that wave of death energy she’d used. Even Zeke, with all his endurance and resistances, would have trouble standing up to that skill.

Thank God she’s on our side, Abby thought to herself.

But was that true? Talia seemed like a good person, but how would that hold up against her new undead instincts? Would she one day lose control entirely? Would she then set her sites on her companions? It was a valid concern, but one Abby hated herself for even considering. To push it from her mind, she turned her attention to Tucker.

The big, dark-skinned man seemed perfectly at ease, leaning his chair against the wall and with his feet propped on the table. His fingers were laced together across his broad chest, and he seemed almost bored. It was a far cry from the distress she had seen on his face when she and Talia had rescued him from his imprisonment within Hvitgard. Thankfully, he’d left some clothes in the cottage; otherwise, he’d have had to make do with some of Zeke’s clothes, and given the disparity in size, that probably wouldn’t have ended well. Zeke was a tall man, with broad shoulders and muscles for days, but he was built more like an athlete. By contrast, Tucker’s frame seemed better suited to playing offensive line on a professional football team. If she hadn’t just spent time among the Jotuns, she might’ve thought of him as a giant.

It was a strange thing, then, that Tucker was, from a physical standpoint, the weakest among them. Like anyone who’d evolved their race, he was stronger than his frame might have suggested in the old world, but he clearly hadn’t invested much into his physical stats. Unless he had a death wish, he’d have allocated some of his points into endurance and vitality, but the others had clearly been ignored. Instead, he fought using his potions and grenades, which were exceedingly powerful. The only downside lay in supply; according to him, each of the grenades he had used during the battle at the Hvitgard gates had been constructed using rare and expensive ingredients. He could construct some using recipes that called for more common ingredients, but those wouldn’t be nearly so potent. In either case, they took time to brew, which meant that once he was out, he was all but useless.

Of course, Abby wasn’t so naïve that she believed that. The big alchemist had already proven his wiles, so underestimating him came with a definite cost. She didn’t trust him one little bit. But Zeke liked him, probably because of some ridiculous affinity for other southerners, so she had little choice but to endure his presence. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep her eye on him.

Then, there was Pudge. Reliable, loyal, and big and strong enough that he should’ve terrified anyone who saw him. Add access to Zeke’s skills to the mix, as well as intelligence no bear should have, and he was a truly horrifying opponent. During the battle against the giants, Abby had seen the dire bear rip one of the Jotuns’ arms clean off, all while the giant was trying to bury his axe in Pudge’s thick hide. It had barely even drawn blood. If she hadn’t seen Pudge grow from a cub into the monster he had become, she would have been more than a little leery of him. But now? She took comfort in his presence.

Finally, there was Zeke himself, who’d stood toe-to-toe with a level twenty-three frost giant general. Brynjar wasn’t a peak elite, but he was close enough that, when facing off against someone who was a full seven levels his junior, it shouldn’t have even been a fight. But once again, Zeke had defied the odds and come out on top. What’s more, it would’ve been over even more quickly if the Jotun hadn’t had the backing of a healer. If Pudge was a monster, then Zeke was something else entirely.

That knowledge should have been comforting. After all, they were her companions, and as loyal as she could have ever hoped for. She knew that Zeke would fight and die before ever betraying her trust. So, why did thinking about the gap between them tie her stomach into knots?

Of course, she knew the answer, even if it wasn’t one she wanted to admit. Not even to herself in the privacy of her own mind. However, she had little choice but to confront it head-on, because the moment she’d admitted it to Zeke, it had become increasingly more insistent. It wasn’t jealousy, per se. Envy, maybe. She wanted so badly to pull her own weight, which had become ever more unlikely as her friends grew more powerful. Next to Zeke, Talia, Tucker, or Pudge, she felt almost entirely powerless.

Certainly, Abby knew she wasn’t. She was an experienced adventurer, a solid scout, and a gifted archer. But none of that seemed to matter when their foes were on the scale she’d seen so far. No matter how many times she shot those Jotuns, if she didn’t hit them in the eye, her arrows were wholly ineffective. And while she had managed to kill a couple in that way, it was nothing compared to the devastation wrought by her companions.

The worst part was that, despite being dragged along like so much dead weight, she had still managed to gain a level, courtesy of Zeke’s [Mark of Companionship], which allowed them to share experience. It was entirely undeserved, and it served to further underscore just how little she brought to the table. She couldn’t even level without being carried by her companions.

But what other option did she have? She wouldn’t leave them. Regardless of what Zeke might say, she knew that he would’ve been just fine without her. Better even, considering that he’d insisted she take an equal share of the loot. The man was the least materialistic person she’d ever met; he hadn’t even cared about the trinkets carried by their various human enemies, instead ignoring them altogether. Initially, Abby had thought he was just ignorant, and back then when she’d just met him, she was completely fine with taking advantage of that lack of knowledge. However, the longer she’d known him, the clearer it had become that Zeke simply didn’t care about the creature comforts offered by those trinkets. Sure, he took the time to study the runes, but after that, he’d left them to her.

No – he would’ve been just fine without her. The problem was that she wouldn’t be fine without him. Disregarding how much he’d helped her with her progression, evolving her race, and gaining equipment, Abby had never been as attached to another person as she was to Zeke. Not even her ex-husband before he’d let his bad side shine through, and certainly no one since her rebirth into the new world. That her feelings seemed to be reciprocated, at least to some degree, only made her attachment all the stronger.

It was love, if such a thing even existed. As unlikely as that was, she knew her feelings for what they were. Zeke was everything she could’ve ever wanted in a romantic partner. He had a good heart, was determined, and he was loyal. More than that, there was some ephemeral quality she couldn’t really quantify, a connection between them that defied explanation. Was it chemistry? A bond formed between two people who’d been forced by circumstances to become companions? A simple alchemy that combined physical attraction, shared morals, and, most importantly, physical closeness? Whatever the case, being with Zeke felt like she’d finally found a relationship that fit into what she wanted her life to be.

So, as much as she knew the group would be better off without her, Abby couldn’t even bring herself to consider leaving them to it. Her only other option was to get stronger by any means necessary. And what’s more, she had an idea of how to do it, which was why everyone in the group, save for Zeke, was staring at her across the table.

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“This is a monumentally stupid idea,” Tucker said, looking at her over his booted feet. “One, you’re basing everything on a rumor. I don’t think I need to explain to anyone here how many of those there are floating around out there. Every adventurer knows someone whose cousin found a wild skill, but if you try to trace anything back to its source, all you’ll find –”

“I thought you said you didn’t need to explain it,” Abby huffed. “And then you started to explain it. I know how unreliable these things are. But my source is solid.”

“And your source is?” Tucker asked.

“None of your damned business,” she said, but her refusal to disclose her source of information had less to do with keeping her cards close to her chest and more to do with the fact that revealing it would mean admitting to a minor betrayal. To pay her back for giving him Zeke’s name, Silas Martel had given her the information on how to obtain a powerful wild skill. And if a man like Martel trusted the information, then Abby could do no less.

Eventually, she would have to tell Zeke about it. She hated keeping secrets from him. But even though she was sure he wouldn’t care about the disclosure of something so innocuous as a name, Abby knew it would strain the foundation of trust they’d built. Initially, she had fully intended to tell him straight away, but events had conspired against her with one delay after another until, when she’d finally had the chance, enough time had passed that talking about it would be at least a little awkward. Since then, she’d made excuse after excuse, each steeped in reason, but rooted in her own anxiety.

“My mother had a wild skill,” Talia interjected, her voice lacking even the most basic emotion. “She never said how she got it, but Master Silas, one of my teachers, said that it nearly killed her. He claimed that all wild skills are like that.”

“See?” said Tucker, pointing at the pale girl. “And I bet Lady Constance was a lot more powerful than we are when she did it. Besides, you said you trust your source, right? Well, why didn’t they go after it, if it’s so powerful?”

“He didn’t need it,” Abby said. If there was one person in the world who didn’t need more power, it was Lady Constance. If there were two, Silas Martel would occupy the second spot. In the right circles, the spymaster was a legendary fighter who’d never lost even so much as a spar. Some said that on Earth, he’d already been an accomplished martial artist, and that prowess had only deepened after his rebirth.

“Okay, fine. Sure,” Tucker said. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all. But the challenge aside, you don’t think we should get out of the mountains as quickly as possible? Those giants –”

“Have their hands full with the undead,” Abby said. “We haven’t seen any sign of pursuit for the past two days.”

“That really doesn’t make me feel any better,” Tucker muttered.

“Enough,” Zeke said, giving Abby’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Abby and I are going. I know this makes it sound like a dictatorship or something, and maybe it is. But if you two want to stick with us, we’re going after this wild skill.”

“And we’re just supposed to obediently follow, huh?” Tucker asked.

“You can go your own way,” Abby said. “Nobody’s forcing you to stay with us.”

Zeke shook his head. “It’s not like that,” he stated. “We want you with us, Tucker. And I think you want to stay. But this is non-negotiable. We have our own goals, and we can’t afford to compromise for somebody we only met a few weeks ago. If you’ve got something you need, we’ll be happy to help you get it. That’s fine. I think I can even share a quest with you two, so long as you’ll let me use my skill. But our goal is to get stronger. This skill will help Abby with that. And when she gets stronger, we all do.”

Tucker sighed. “I never said I didn’t want to go,” he stated. “Just playing devil’s advocate here.”

“That is untrue,” Talia stated.

Tucker finally sat up, pulling his feet off the table. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go over this one more time, just so we’re all on the same page. You want to go even further north to a peak none of us has ever even heard of, climb a mountain that, according to you, is the tallest on the entire island, kill a thunderbird matriarch, whose essence you will absorb and turn into some kind of skill. Is that right?”

“It didn’t specify that I have to actually kill the thunderbird,” she said, though she suspected that was how it would end up. The lore surrounding wild skills was vague and usually unreliable, but it all seemed to agree that they were a reward for unique feats of strength. And nothing said that more than killing an elite monster alone. “But I can’t get help with the actual quest. Martel was clear about that. If you all interfere with the fight, it won’t award the skill.”

Tucker shook his head. “Y’all are crazy,” he said, his voice slipping into his deep, southern accent. It seemed to come and go based on the situation. “You know that, don’t you?”

“It’s been said a couple of times,” Zeke conceded, flashing a grin. “Are you with us?”

Tucker sighed. “Sure, why not?” he answered.

“And you?” Zeke asked, looking at Talia.

“I go where you two go,” she stated, as if it was never even a question. Perhaps it wasn’t.

“Great,” Tucker said. “We’ve all agreed to go on a suicide mission. Now, what was it you said about a quest? And what skill?”

Zeke said, “It’s called [Mark of Companionship], and it lets you access some of my skills. Or at least it does with Abby. I’ve looked at the rune, though, so I think how much access you get is determined by my relationship with you. So, don’t expect to get much. Otherwise, it lets us share experience, even if everyone doesn’t contribute to a kill. And I think it’ll let me share a quest with you two.”

“And this quest? What does it do? Where did you get it? And what do we have to do to complete it?” Tucker asked.

“We got it from a goddess,” Abby said.

“Sure,” Tucker stated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve got two or three quests from Shar Maelaine herself. I just haven’t had the time to get –”

“Not Shar Maelaine,” Zeke said. “This is a different goddess. Her name is Aja. And as to the terms, it’s a work in progress. We’ve got one part down, but there are still three to go. I think the frost giant toes are going to end up being the easiest.”

“Wait, toes? That’s gross,” Tucker said. “What else do you have to get?”

“[Moss of Immolation], the [Soul of a Warlock], and the [Heart of a Wyrm],” Zeke said. “And before you ask, no – we don’t know where to find two of those. The only one we’re sure of is the wyrm, and we’re a long way away from killing one of those.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Tucker said. “Because I know where to find the moss. It grows near a dry lakebed on the western edge of the Red Wastes. I’ve never been there, but I was lucky enough to find a man who’d harvested some of it. Burned one of his hands to a crisp before he could get it into an enchanted box. Not that it mattered. He was killed a few days after I met him. Nice guy, but –”

“You know where it is, though?” Zeke asked. “Could you lead us there?”

“Sure. I can handle it, too,” Tucker answered. “One of my skills. Not sure it’s going to do any good, though, because we don’t have a chance of killing a wyrm and taking its heart. Even if we all reach level twenty-five, it’s all but impossible. Wyrms are born in the boss tier, and by the time they reach adulthood, they’re monarchs. Going after one of them is a huge mistake. I don’t know what kind of a reward you think you’re going to get for this quest, but it’s not worth dying over.”

“And what would you say if I told you it offers a racial evolution to a new tier?” Zeke asked. “Would that be worth it?”

Tucker’s jaw dropped, and a wave of satisfaction swept through Abby’s mind. After a few seconds, Tucker said, “So? How do I get this quest? And when can we get started? I think I can come up with some ideas for this wyrm we need to kill.”

Zeke grinned. “Knew you’d come around,” he said. “Just accept the skill. That’s all you need to do.”

After a moment’s concentration on Zeke’s part, a rune flared to life on Tucker’s shoulder. Almost simultaneously, a similar rune flashed on Talia’s neck. Then, they faded away, leaving unmarred, unmarked skin behind. Zeke focused, narrowing his eyes for a long few seconds that quickly turned into more than a minute. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and then, with a flash of light, he sagged.

“What did you do? Are you okay?” Abby asked, gripping his shoulders.

“Had to alter the rune a bit,” he said, his voice strained. “It was a little change, but I’m still not quite back to a hundred-percent. It’s fine, though. It’s done. They should’ve gotten the quest.”

Abby turned to Tucker and asked, “Did you?”

“That…that was…that was amazing,” the huge alchemist said. “I’ve never seen anyone alter a skill rune before.”

“Stick around,” Abby said. “And you’ll see it again, I think. Did you get the quest?”

Tucker nodded. When Abby asked Talia the same question, she confirmed that she had gotten the quest as well. “Alright, then,” she said. “I suppose we need a plan. We’ll probably get sidetracked, and it definitely won’t go like we expect it to, but we may as well try to make an outline, at least. So, any suggestions on how we’re supposed to make this happen?”