We got moving again early the next morning. Over the course of the morning, we marched closer to our destination, only taking to the top of a hill once more to confirm we were heading in the right direction. It was afternoon when we finally stumbled upon it with a gasp.

The entirety of the rock formation that held the door to the mine glowed with a whiteish-blue hue and all the Mist surrounding the pillar was pushed back. Victor put his hands on his hips as we all gawked at the sight.

“Impressive, isn’t it? The writings had hinted that the formation hiding the entrance was made of an inferior but even tougher version of Glasrock. They never managed to excavate it due to the fact that it was extremely hard and mostly a singular piece. It doesn’t hold back much of the Mist for its’ size, but it hasn’t broken down even after all these years.”

He was right. The Mist was only repelled in a 45-yard perimeter around the central pillar. It created a much larger dome, though, and we were all grateful for the larger space. We hustled to our best guess for the location of the door, but it was harder to find without the closest hill visible as a reference point. Eventually, Al’s hard work paid off and we were all piling into the mine once again.

Fortunately, we knew exactly where to go this time, walking at a brisk pace down the spiraling shaft to the underground pool. It was a long enough walk that much of the party was winded by the time we got to the bottom. It was probably getting close to the evening, so Victor and I encouraged the others to spend some time relaxing before setting up camp.

I was still in good shape, so I elected to get some early mining done, hacking at the wall with a dogged persistence. Lynn entertained the kids by playing tricks with the water of the pool, while Julia and Ann sat on sleeping mats nearby and applauded the show politely. Eventually, Ann got antsy and started practicing her fighting, to the appreciative gasps of Julia and Hope. She didn’t have much room to move but she did her best with what she had, dancing within the shallow portions of the pool and dry land.

Water droplets caught the orange lanternlight and were occasionally severed in two as Ann’s blade flitted around in an enigmatic blur of glinting white. Julia was inspired into action and soon joined the exercises, both girls showing off and dancing around. All exhaustion forgotten, Hope eagerly hopped over to join them, the swings of her staff much less coordinated but impressive for her age.

Victor looked like he wanted to stop them, but he didn’t. It was foolish to waste energy like this, in a sense, and it theoretically made more sense to be as ready for potential attacks as possible. On the other hand, this area seemed to be relatively safe, and they deserved the chance to take their mind off their losses. Eventually, he left it alone and kept watch as best as he could with Al and Lynn.

Well, Lynn was mostly watching the practice with interest, occasionally taking control of a water droplet and making it zip around and through the storm kicked up by the Fighters. Al was actually watching me and doing his best impression of a haughty supervisor. Well, maybe it wasn’t an impression. He finally got beamed in the forehead by a pebble after a third “Faster, you noodle boned weakling!” was too many.

Eventually, even I got bored of mining and joined the girls in their exercises, my movements slower but even more skillful and well executed. Ann, noticing the new entrant, pulled me into a mock fight. Us two siblings dodged and slid around each other, our blades clashing at half speed. Julia eventually did the same with Hope, but she spent more time teaching the girl the most effective way to maneuver her staff, carefully correcting mistakes in her stance.

Eventually, we got tired out and came back to the campsite. Lynn was softly cheering the display while Victor seemed to have been distracted from his vigilance by us as well. Al was already preparing dinner, and we had Lynn dry us off before we sat down to eat.

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It was back to business after a longer sleep. We started the day with a strategy meeting, sitting down in a circle.

“First things first,” Victor said, after we had all sat down, “I argue that we need to get the young miss in fighting shape.” He nodded at Hope, whose eyes widened in surprise at being singled out.

“We should awaken her Gift prematurely.” He continued, eliciting a surprised gasp from Julia.

Typically, Gifts were awakened at 9 or 10. They often placed a significant burden on one's body and the child needed to be already well developed in order to handle the strain. Some even waited until puberty started to set in, to ensure that nothing went wrong. 4 years of physical training and development was the commonly accepted minimum to ensure avoidance of the most severe side-effects. Since Hope was only 8, and the village started training their youth seriously at 5, she was a year early.

After thinking about it a bit, I spoke up:

“I agree. Out here and under these circumstances, she needs to be able to defend herself as best as she can. The risks of something truly bad happening are low. They’re minimal for someone as naturally gifted as Hope. The dangers that she risks without the benefit of a Gift under these circumstances are much worse.”

“It’s her decision, ultimately.” Julia said, firmly, “We can’t make her take that type of risk without her consent.”

We all turn to look at Hope, who has blushed in the face of all this attention. Eventually, she schools her face into her idea of a determined expression, though it was more of a frown with an aggressive pout attached and puffed out her chest.

“I can do it!” she exclaimed, “I’ll help you fight, too!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, squirt.” Ann cuts in, smiling slightly before growing more serious, “You’ll need a bit more training before you can properly stand alongside us. But, as the boney necked book kisser said, ‘First things first’. Here’s how you awaken your Gift…”

Ann had Hope sit down and meditate while she walked her through the process of awakening. It just involved using your willpower to condense the Giftseed and waiting until it went through a qualitative change, like a color or shape shift, before releasing your mental hold on it and allowing the Giftseed to expand into its’ new form. It really was quite remarkable, how your Giftseed could be affected by nothing but your own will and focus, but stranger things were true. Victor had bristled a bit at the “boney necked book kisser” line, and I could tell he was thinking of various retaliatory remarks before Lynn started rubbing his back to calm him down.

In moments, Hope’s eyes were closed, and her face was scrunched up in total concentration, as Ann had gone silent, letting her focus now. We all held our breath, and, after a while, there was a very quiet pop and her eyes opened with a gasp:

“I did it!” she exclaimed, before frowning again, “But I don’t feel any different. Is that okay?”

“What color is your Giftseed?” Victor asked, leaning forward with excitement. She took a moment to focus before responding:

“White. It’s white. What does that mean?”

Her announcement was greeted with a sigh from Julia and a thoughtful look from Victor. Ann, though, just shook her head sadly:

“What are the odds that you’re Giftless as well? This has got to be some sort of joke.”

Victor decisively interjected, shooting her down, “You don’t know that! Conventional understanding of the Giftless condition is poorly researched and ill considered. The validity of the condition at all is worth disputing. In fact…”

While Victor went on his academic tirade, I chewed on what we just learned. The type of Gift was determined by color, with red and green usually indicating Strength and Agility, blue and yellow typically indicating Water and Earth, and purple and orange indicating Hearing and Sight. Sometimes green would indicate the Gift of Wind instead, though that green was lighter than Agility’s green. A darker orange was the hallmark of the Gift of Endurance, to use another example. But any color beyond these six was written off as a failure, the sign of the lack of a Gift. Or at least a worthless Gift. It was rare, and thus not thoroughly examined. Having two instances in one family was truly terrible luck.

I very much hoped that Victor was right. I was absolutely a great example of how even a Giftless person could grow beyond natural limitations to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with some of the best. But we didn’t have the time or resources to help make that happen with Hope, a fact that I mourned. We would have to do the best we could with what we had.

After a bit of arguing with Ann, Victor finally settled down enough to change the subject:

“Second things second, we should definitely take the time to gather as much Glasrock as possible first, but I think we should do some exploring afterwards.”

As he spoke, he pointed toward the exit at the end of the path. He weathered our storm of objections with a coy smile as he pointed to something just over the entranceway of the far tunnel.

“See those white rock formations over there…?”