I spar a few times over the course of the next few hours. Tarin is astonishingly spry and quick on his feet, and recovers in mere moments. It's an effect of his Firmament, he's explained, though his manipulation of it isn't particularly involved.

Apparently, basic Firmament manipulation is available to just about anyone on an Integrated planet. The Interface and its access to particularly advanced skills, however, are only gifted to Trialgoers.

Unfortunately, basic Firmament manipulation isn't part of the package afforded to me, Trialgoer or not. I give it a go a few times, try to see if I can bend my mind to manipulating the thrum of Firmament around me, but eventually I give up — there's only so much time left, and as much as Tarin seems confident I'll be able to get it, spending time on something with no guaranteed results feels like a waste of time.

At least by sparring against Tarin, I'm guaranteed credits.

The distribution of them still isn't exactly clear to me, and although I've asked the Interface a few times to clarify exactly how the credits are distributed, it refuses to tell me anything more than what it's already told me. With that in mind, sparring seems like the best thing I can do. Tough Body keeps me refreshed and able to recover quicker than normal, though not nearly as quickly as Tarin can. It's enough to get several rounds in.

But the time of the raid is coming up, and the air is getting tense. It's not just me, either — I can see several of the crows looking up nervously towards the cliff, waiting for the signal.

The message is out by now. I've seen mothers herding little crows far away from the cliff, and a few of them seem determined to get as far away as possible; they'll come back if the raid is won, they say, but not before. Tarin seems worried about them, but he isn't able to stop them from leaving.

I only hope the Interface doesn't cheat. I remember what Tarin said before, and it ignites a cold flame in my chest.

Against the spirit of the Trial.

It's not something he'd say without reason. The implication in it, if I read between the lines right, is that playing outside of the rules set forward has consequences — or maybe just that there isn't a point. Maybe the Integrators are so powerful that trying to work around their rules doesn't actually help.

It makes sense. I can see the way I've been hemmed in to doing this in just three tries, the way I've been forced to do it quickly. I can't just avoid the raid. I can't keep myself alive after the raid, training and preparing myself for the next attempt.

The moment I was told I had three attempts, I had, effectively, twenty-four hours until the Cliffside Crows were erased entirely.

I take my mind off of the upcoming raid and glance to Tarin. "Rest," he squawks at me, noticing my gaze. One winged arm pushed a bowl of water towards me, and then a bowl of fruit; I accept both gratefully.

The fruit is strange. It's not something I've seen just going through the forest — Tarin tells me it's hard to find, and even harder to prepare. It's only available in the uppermost branches of the tallest trees, and where the leaves are sparse and mostly plucked clean by other, lesser birds.

The raw fruit is just a vaguely spherical shell covered in streaks of red and yellow. It's something like a malformed apple, I suppose. Cracking it open is apparently difficult — it requires a precise application of Firmament — because the shell itself is deadly poison, and breaking it incorrectly drips that poison into the inner fruit.

Break it properly, though, and the inside is delicious and apparently deeply nutritious. I'm not sure how well crow nutrition maps to human nutrition, but I take the offering for what it is, and chew on the sweet, surprisingly stringy flesh as I wait. It's been scattered with a thin powder that adds just a hint of tartness, apparently a specialty of Mari's, and then roasted to add a richness of flavor.

All of this Mari explains to me, chattering away as she breaks open yet another one of the fruits, gives it a quick pass over an open flame, and then sprinkles it with seasoning and serves it to a grateful guard-crow. It's her way of tucking away her nervousness, I can tell, and it's... it's maybe a little more than that.

I see it in her eyes. She isn't sure I'll win.

Maybe she wants a small piece of the village to stay with me if I fail. A small part of their culture, forever remembered in a tiny fragment of what was. Does it say something, then, that if her village is to be remembered, her choice is to be remembered in food that comforts and heals?

I stare at the cliff and wait, lost in silent contemplation. It's about fifteen more minutes until the raid starts, and no one is in the mood for any conversation. Even Mari's chatter has petered off.

And then that small earthquake hits — the rumble that indicates that the raid is about to begin. Tarin glances at me, and I give him a slight nod; he pokes at the bowl he's holding, and scowls as it falls apart.

One of the guard-crows, standing with them, tosses aside the now-useless spear. He seems to shiver slightly, then shakes his head, looking slightly panicked. The figures above the cliff have appeared, though they're distant shadows in the sky, only barely visible in the purple glare of the sun.

[ Warning: You are in range of a Raid! ]

I snort at the phrasing. It's not like I was given a choice. What am I meant to do? Run away?

[ Rank E Raid Lost Harpies proceeding! You have two chances to beat this raid. If you fail, Cliffside Crows will be removed from your map. ]

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Sure. Thanks.

I pick up the mantis-scythe that I laid out beside me and tighten my fist around the makeshift handle.

"Sir," a crow says nervously. I'm a little stunned by the accent the translator gives him. Is that a British accent? Why? "Our Firmament is being suppressed."

Tarin's eyes darken. "Feel it too," he says. "Pushed down a whole level. Cheating. Again."

"What... should we do?" The other crow's voice is hesitant, nervous. I don't blame him. The harpies are circling, but starting to spread out.

"Village still need you," Tarin says, fixing the crow with a stern stare. He softens a little when he sees the way the crow's branch trembles in his arms. They've all kept their spears with them in case they can fight the disenchantment somehow, but as a backup — thanks to my warning — they've brought along thick, heavy branches, to use as improvised clubs. It won't be better than the spears they've been training with, but it's certainly better than nothing. "You can fight?"

The crow seems uncertain for a moment, but then he steadies his resolve, letting out a breath. "They won't get the best of us, sir," he says.

I feel sorry for him. He looks young — barely out of adulthood. He shouldn't have to do this.

None of them should.

The harpies above are spreading out, just as they did last time. I tried my best to tell Tarin where and how they land, but I wasn't in a position to see all of them last loop. It's the reason we're situated where we are now, at a small cavern a short ways up the cliff. It's surprisingly hidden from above, a fragment of rock shielding us from immediate view, and it'll give me a good vantage point to see where the harpies land in case we don't succeed in one attempt.

That's what this is. That's what this was last time, too — planning for the next attempt while trying to win the current one. If this one fails...

It'll be time to go all out. No more being careful, trying to prepare for the next loop.

For now, we wait.

The harpies dive past us in short order — I see and record the way they spread out, five points across the village to hem them in. There's two to each point, and the final two land nearly in the center of the village. Tarin's scattered a few crows down there to help defend, but they won't be much use with their Firmament suppressed. We have to hurry.

Tarin apparently feels the same way. "Go!" he squawks, and all five of us up on the cliff immediately leap off. I'm not that confident in surviving a fall from this high, even with Tough Body giving me additional durability, but fortunately the giant crows can glide; we've already tested this. Two of them grab me by the arms, and I grit my teeth as I feel their talons pressing into my skin.

They drop me off next to a set of two harpies, and then I don't have time to think.

I've seen in the last iteration that given a crow to focus on and me, they'll target the crows. It's easy enough to guess why: the nature of the Trial I'm in comes to mind.

It's a Willpower Trial. They won't be testing my will if they're not killing people in front of me.

A heat spreads through me.

Anger, at least, is comfortable and familiar.

I have to commend the crows carrying me — they drop me off almost exactly on top of one of the harpies. Keeping my balance in the air is a little harder than I expect, and I tumble a little bit too far to the right, but that doesn't matter. The harpy I'm aiming for is well within range of my scythe, and I strike out right as I hit the ground.

I'm unbalanced, of course. It's not a maneuver that I've bothered practicing, and so when I hit the ground I fall into an uncontrolled roll; I have to let go of the scythe so I don't accidentally stab myself, but the pain is thankfully dull, and nothing in my body breaks.

The harpy screams.

A normal scream, not a Firmament-enhanced one. I've scored a heavy gash across the harpy's shoulder, and her attention is on me, now; the crow guard standing nearby is engaged with the other one, and with prior warning about their screams, is doing much better against her.

I focus on the one I have to fight.

She's off-balance enough that I have the time to scramble for my weapon, but a gathering of Firmament in the air tells me I have to dodge almost as soon as I grab it. I force myself to twist almost unnaturally, groaning with the effort, and just barely manage to dodge the oncoming scream.

This time, the shockwave and blast of dirt isn't enough to knock me over, and I charge.

I know what to expect this time.

Harpies favor screaming as their attack, followed by kicking; they can attack and scratch with their arms, but that doesn't pose nearly as much danger to me at the moment. Tough Body increases the effects of Tough Skin to the extent that blades are more likely to bruise than actually cut me, let alone their dull talons.

I sweep a kick at the harpy's legs, and she leaps up into the air to launch a powerful kick straight towards my face; I step to the side, curving my scythe down and towards her neck. I see her flapping her wings, trying to shift aside in midair, but I twist along with her.

My scythe cuts into her neck.

[ You have defeated an Elegy of the Lost (Rank E)! +14 Strength credits. +16 Durability credits. +20 Reflex credits. +27 Speed credits. +2 Firmament credits. ]

It's almost insultingly easy. I think back to the trouble I had just last loop and grimace.

The sparring with Tarin's definitely paid off, at least. I look at the points, considering whether or not I should just spend them now —

— but a cry of pain nearby pulls me back into the game, and I grab my scythe.

Again, it's almost insultingly easy.

[ You have defeated an Elegy of the Lost (Rank E)! +1 Strength credit. +1 Reflex credit. +2 Speed credits. +2 Firmament credits. ]

The harpy's already distracted by her battle with the guard, and with him distracting her, all I have to do is run up. I'm fast about it — he's on the verge of losing, and I can see the fear in his eyes; his club's been knocked out of his hands.

I sink my scythe into her heart before she finishes her scream.

I have to run clockwise around the village to get to the next one, but it's not too far. This harpy's teamed up with her partner instead of splitting up, and the singular crow left here to fight is struggling. I won't get there in time.

But my Temporal Echo will. This is where I fought last loop. It's where I swung my blade blindly, hoping to have an opportunity to use it this loop.

[ You have defeated an Elegy of the Lost (Rank E)! +1 Speed credit. +1 Firmament credit. ]

The fourth harpy is distracted by the sudden blaze of blue cutting a scythe directly across her partner, and I'm able to easily take her out.

[ You have defeated an Elegy of the Lost (Rank E)! +1 Firmament credit. ]

The credit rewards are decreasing, but it doesn't matter. We're doing well. It's surprising how much easier this raid is with just a little bit of preparation and cooperation—

"Ethan!"

I recognize the yell.

I recognize the fear and anger in it.

It's Mari, and she's calling for help.