“So who’s stronger? You or Sezim?”

Tor blinked, then laughed, shoulders shaking as his voice boomed out over the deck of the skiff. “Me or The Stillblade? Well, as much as I’d love to say I think I could give him a fight, I couldn’t.”

Corrin leaned in from his sitting position with his legs crossed. “Really?”

Tor laughed some more, taking a swig of his drink. “Of course, Sezim is a first class spirit knight if not higher. He might even be on the same level as an Aegis, but it’s impossible to say ever since he started teaching. Professors hardly take on any missions, so they almost never advance in any official capacity.”

“So he’s strong then?” Corrin thought back to the day in the woods. If Sezim was important enough to talk to Iillia, it made sense.

“They call him The Stillblade, one of The Nameless Four.” Tor wiped his lips. “Do you know what they call me?”

“What?” Ayden asked, just as enraptured. Corrin’s mortal enemy was sitting on Tor’s right, separated from Corrin by a good five feet.

“Torvin Helric. So there’s your answer.”

Corrin let that sink in. He hadn’t understood Sezim’s power at the time, and apparently, he still couldn’t. Tor was the strongest person he’d ever fought, and he was only a third class spirit knight, and there were still three ranks above him. Corrin looked down at his hands, calloused and torn from days spent swinging the sword. The wood was no closer to being cut now than it had been, he still hadn’t been able to fully mantle the blade.

“What about adventurers?” Ayden asked excitedly.

Tor scratched his chin. “Well, sun ranked adventurers are definitely the strongest. Only guilds in cities with named dungeons can issue the ranking though.”

“How do they compare to a spirit knight?” Corrin pushed.

“Hmm. Frankly I haven’t met too many. Edria doesn’t have any named dungeons, and anything else is a waste of their time. I would say… moon rank is probably around second class, and sun rankers are on par with any first class spirit knight.”

Ayden’s eyes were shining.

“But that’s enough for now. I noticed you both finished your lunch? I’d say that means it’s time for you two to get back to work. There’s less than a week left.”

Corrin straightened his back. Five more days. Then they’d be fighting the colossus, a monster more dangerous than the leviathan, or anything else he’d fought. A creature whose power was even greater than Tor’s. And he still couldn’t even cut a damn log.

“Thanks for the food.” He made sure to say it, showing the spirit knight respect that would’ve made Fenfreth jealous. Then he put it aside and turned back to the log that haunted him.

He hated that damn log. It taunted him each day, to the point that he’d started to dream about cutting it in half. He hadn’t left the ship in two days except to bathe, and then only because Wyn had dragged him. Putting the comfort of the skiff to the test, he slept with a blanket and pillow against the deck—walking back to the ship would waste precious training time. Five more days… just five more. Each day, he could feel his aura creeping further up the sword, growing thicker on the blade, but still he was unable to cut the wood.

He gripped the hilt tighter in his hand, stinging against his raw palm.

Come on Corrin. Focus.

Five more days.

***

Corrin knocked an arrow out of the air. Another flew just behind it, and he rolled out of the way. There was no time to stop, if he hesitated for a moment, he’d be dead.

Metaphorically of course.

He dashed behind the ballista at the front of the ship—the only source of cover since it didn’t have a mast—and caught his breath as the hail of projectiles slowed. His heart pounded in his chest. He’d been unable to stop moving since the duel started. His opponent hadn’t bothered with any posturing or testing blows, it had been brutal from the start.

“Oh come on Corrin, you’ll have to try harder than that.” Reiss’s voice called out from the other side of the ship. Corrin had finally talked the older man into a spar, but while he’d expected the battle to be easier than his others, the bowman proved tricky. If he could close the distance, he was sure he could win, but it was easier in theory than in practice.

An arrow shot past the ballista—a wasted shot, until it turned. The arrow changed direction mid-flight, flipping and homing in on Corrin’s chest.

Just in time, Corrin twisted, and the arrow thudded against the wooden siege weapon in a puff of light pink, chalky powder.

“How’s that for a trick? You’re well in range of my technique, did you think you’d be safe back there?”

Two more arrows flew around the corner, and Corrin channeled mana to his eyes. There was a gathering of wind mana around the shaft, condensing on one side thickly before—

He knocked them out of the air as they turned, buying himself a moment’s more time. He had no time to think, no safety. Reiss almost certainly had more mana than he did, and even without it, he wouldn’t win a battle of attrition with an archer.

What I need right now, is just one opening.

He remembered one of Irym’s first lessons. If your opponent won’t give you an opening, then make your own.

Corrin unfastened his cloak in a single movement, tossing it to the left. Then, he dashed around to the right. A dull thud from the other side told him he’d succeeded. He’d bought himself a single instant. In two steps, he was at the stairs that led down to the lower deck. If he was just fast enough…

His vision locked onto the archer’s widening eyes from across the ship. He saw the back of the bow shifting as Reiss adjusted his aim.

Too slow.

Mantling forced Corrin to control his mana directly. It required more will, and more focus than moving the mana inside his body. Even now, his control over his mantle was limited, pathetic even, compared to what he knew Tor, or even Ayden could do. But all that extra control had its benefits, and moving mana throughout his channels had become as easy as breathing.

His foot pushed against the back of the stairs, bursting with power in an instant. With the same power he’d used to leap onto the rootstrider, Corrin shot forward across the deck.

Wind slapped against his face as the archer lunged backwards, firing off two shots in quick succession. With his own speed and theirs, Corrin couldn’t bring his sword up in time, but he’d anticipated the attack. His body twisted in the air, already moving to dodge the shots before they’d even been fired. One grazed his side, but it wasn’t a solid hit—he kept going.

In a heartbeat, he’d crossed the deck, and landed beside the archer, his sword poised to strike.

But he could see it all too well—Reiss was grinning.

Corrin had kept his mana sight up, he’d gotten better at maintaining it in combat, but even still, the angle and the speed of the movement hadn’t let him see the trick until it was too late. A thin line of wind mana stretched out from Reiss’s hand to one of the arrows Corrin had dodged. The line lit up, glowing a lighter shade of blue.

Corrin realized something was wrong in a moment—he had to end it now. He thrust at Reiss’s core, the quickest attack he could muster, filling his arms with ash mana to increase his speed.

And ash mana was quite fast indeed. But wind was faster.

Reiss vanished from the spot he’d been standing, Corrin’s sword piercing empty air. He turned his head and saw the bowman flying across the deck, pulled by an invisible string of mana at a speed just as fast as Corrin’s dash. The tether had already vanished though, disappearing an instant after it had given him the initial momentum, and Reiss was already readying his bow.

Corrin turned to give chase, but it was slow. He’d only noticed it once he’d been able to use the bursts of power more, but there was always a delay right after where the mana pooled more sluggishly in that spot. It was only a few seconds, but it would ruin him.

In his mana sight, he could see wind condensing around Reiss’s bow, swirling and howling as he gathered more power than Corrin could manage in his whole mantle. The older man landed lightly at the base of the stairs, cloak rustling as he let out a small sliver of breath and took careful aim.

His fingers released the string. Corrin brought his sword up.

I’ll—

He felt the impact before he saw it.

The arrow slammed into Corrin’s chest, knocking him off his feet as he fell back onto the deck. It didn’t hurt as much as Emryn’s shoulder charge, but it wasn’t supposed to. Even with the powder arrow, the breath was still driven from his lungs. For almost a full second after the blow, he felt a strong breeze blow across his face.

He slammed a fist against the wood while his breath returned. He hadn’t even seen it.

“Why do I feel like I always end up hitting the damn deck?” He complained as Reiss walked over.

“Well you’ve been doing your fair share of losing.”

“Oh quit laughing. I’m only one and twenty-six.”

“That’s right! You beat Ayden in the eating contest!” Reiss snorted.

“A win’s a win.”

They laughed and Corrin got to his feet, bowing to his sparring partner. “Thanks for finally sparring with me. Any advice?”

“It was a good match, but you didn’t utilize your mantle enough. Now, I can’t blame you for that if you were trying to win, but if you want to improve, don’t be afraid to experiment. And frankly, your odds would’ve been better if you had.”

“How so?” Corrin thought back on the battle, replaying the events in his head.

“There were a number of moments where it would’ve been helpful, but the two most decisive were right at the end. The first was when I shot the two arrows you dodged. It was an inspired maneuver, daring too, but relying too much on instincts. When you fight with a new weapon, relying on instincts causes mistakes. In this case, instead of dodging—”

“I could’ve blocked with my mantle,” Corrin muttered. “Yeah, that would’ve destroyed the technique, or at least sent the arrows off course. But with that in mind, couldn’t you have intentionally missed me to set up your technique?”

Reiss shrugged. “Perhaps, but that may have tipped you off. Or perhaps not, you may have thought it was the panic of the moment. But aiming for you also gives the possibility of a hit. I may have had other options as well, but in this case, consider it a bit of a test.”

“If I’d mantled, I could’ve won…” Corrin clicked his tongue.

“It’s possible. Or you would’ve been struck, you’re still quite sloppy with it in battle.”

Corrin rolled his shoulder, nodding in agreement. He’d gotten much better at mantling, and even pulled it off to block several strikes in spars against Emryn, but it was still far from reliable. “Still, you’re right. This is practice. I should be pushing my abilities.” He paused. “What was the second opportunity?”

Reiss smiled warmly. “At the very least you should defend your chest. It’s the easiest target, and most archers will default to aiming at your center when in a tight spot.”

“The last arrow,” Corrin muttered. “That thing was so fast. I couldn’t even see it.”

Reiss’s smile grew a bit proud. “My Galeshot. It’s a fairly simple technique, but simple techniques are often just as effective. I put a lot into it hoping it would slip past you—if you’d dodged I probably could’ve only fired one more like it.”

“So if I’d mantled at my chest... Yeah, damn. But could I have even blocked something like that?”

“I have no idea. But I’ve got one more shot like that in me before I’ll have to channel again...” Reiss’s voice trailed off suggestively. For the first time, Corrin had no doubt. The man was an adventurer to his core.

Corrin grinned. “Let’s do it. I’ve got power left to spare.”

“... We’re not going to Ord Ayden! You can’t even challenge the tower unless you’re a gold rank in the east! And we’re basically bronze by those standards!” Emryn’s voice interrupted their post-match discussion. The normally quiet girl had been talking to Ayden on the docks after convincing him to give Reiss and Corrin space for their battle, but it seemed something in their conversation had gone poorly.

“Then we’ll get stronger! But we can’t do that staying here,” The spearman argued back. “After Tor leaves, the opportunity will dry up with him! Unless they find a new dungeon here, we have to head east!”

“We don’t have to do anything! Or what, do you just hate how weak we all are?”

“What?” His voice grew placating. “No! Of course not! I just… I just want to do something bigger than sitting around waiting for the next ‘hunt’. I want something more. Don’t you?”

Corrin couldn’t help it. He craned his neck. He was just stretching.

“What’s wrong with what we’re doing now?” Emryn asked, hands clenched at her sides. “This is a big break for us, and we’re finally really meshing as a team. But you can’t even see that can you? You’re too busy looking ahead instead of at the rest of us!”

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“It’s not that I don’t see it Emryn—I do. We’ve come so far, but this isn’t where it ends. You know that as well as I do. If we want to go further, we have to push ourselves! We have to stop settling for what’s comfortable!”

“And what if I don’t want to go further Ayden?” Her voice was trembling. “What if—what if I just want to enjoy what we have? Isn’t that better than some imaginary dream we’ll probably just die chasing?”

Ayden threw his hands up. “Imaginary? How can you say that? How can you be upset with me for wanting to grow! For wanting to be someone people can look up to? I’m not saying it’s the only thing that matters, but it’s important Emryn. To me. To the team.”

“To you,” she shot back. “Don’t twist it Ayden. It’s important to you. You don’t give a damn what the rest of us think. What I think.”

“That’s not true,” Ayden said, his voice growing quieter. It was etched with hesitation. “Of course I care. It’s just—”

“Yeah well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“Emryn, come on. Where are you going?”

“It’s fine,” she snapped. “I’m just going for a walk. And I’m one of the strongest people here. I don’t need an escort.”

Corrin glanced at Reiss, who was grimacing silently. Even Melanie, the mage of the group, who hadn’t moved during the duel, was looking up from her book, awkwardly gazing around the deck. Corrin’s eyes met hers for a moment, and she shrugged.

The spearman sat on the ground and let his head fall back against the outside edge of the ship. “Damn it Ayden...” He muttered to himself. Four slow thumps could be heard, fist against forehead.

Corrin turned back to his sparring partner. “So um… yeah, we were going to test your Galeshot against my mantle right?”

Reiss’s eyes held on the sight for a few moments longer, he slowly tore his head away.

“Yeah, let me head back to where I shot you from,” he said, walking over.

As he did, Corrin glanced over at Ayden one more time, thinking about what he’d heard. He didn’t like how familiar it seemed, but he’d chosen his path. Ayden would have to do the same. He shook it from his head.

There wasn’t a single person alive without problems.

***

“Order’s ready for table three!” Helena, the innkeeper of The Stilled Steppe, bellowed out of the kitchen.

Kei looked and saw both Brier and Lars with their hands full of other tasks. “I’ve got it!” She called out.

She walked quickly through the tighter space behind the bar, avoiding Lars the barkeep as the heat of the kitchen drew nearer. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she wiped it dry with her sleeve, keeping her hands clean.

Helena was bent over by the oven in the back, refueling the wood as the flames grew higher—the kitchen was hot, the only source of ventilation a window held open in the back, letting heat out into the street.

Hearing her walk in, the innkeeper turned every so slightly, pointing across the room without looking at a counter where a tray had been piled high with food—three sandwiches and two bowls of piping hot stew.

“Helena, how long on the meat pie?” Brier called out from the main room.

Kei passed along the question, earning a scoff in response. “Tell him to tell those damn soldiers it’ll be done when it’s done!”

“Ten more minutes!” Kei yelled back. She hurried over to the tray of food and grabbed spoons for each of the stews. The stew was heaviest, so she placed them both on the side closest to her before picking the tray up and supporting it with her shoulder. She’d learned the carrying technique from Brier—it wasn’t necessary most of the time, but for the larger trays they used during the rush hours to carry heavier loads, it was a blessing.

She was back out of the kitchen a moment later. “Behind you Lars,” she warned him as she came past.

The inn was bursting with people for the lunch rush, that was basically a fact of life at the inn. It was an odd sort of ebb and flow. It would be mostly empty for most of the day with only the odd adventurer passed out at one of the tables, or a group or two wasting time away with some drinks. But for three hours around noon, the building would be filled with soldiers let off of their training to eat.

Estin was far too small to have a standing army, and a small watch of thirty some men didn’t need serious dining infrastructure like an army did. With that being the case, the task of feeding the thousands that had gathered in the town fell in large part to the inns and taverns in the area, which enjoyed a large influx of both customers, and heavily subsidized food courtesy of the Edrian crown. It was an economic opportunity for the town, but an idle ship earned no coin, even on the calmest of seas.

Capitalizing on the influx of money and people required work. And with only the older couple to run it—along with Brier, a local layabout who labored in exchange for lodging during the off-seasons of winter and summer—they were quite a bit overwhelmed. Somehow, the result had been Kei volunteering to assist. But in the end, anything was better than sitting in her room moping, and at least within the four walls of The Stilled Steppe, she felt safe.

She set the tray down on the table, hardly able to pass out the food without the men grasping for it. They were a bit like wild beasts in a way, though she wasn’t surprised. Her brother had always said men thought with their heads and their stomachs.

Well, and of course their—

“It’s getting a bit dry over here!” A man called over from another table. He was holding up an empty mug, and the rest of the men at the table cheered in agreement. She shot a smile in their direction and nodded before picking up the now-vacant tray. She collected the empty mugs and rushed them over to the bar where Lars was busy pouring drinks.

“Three ales, one water!”

“Gotcha, give me two minutes.”

Brier walked past, carrying an empty tray of his own. “Kei, somebody dropped their sandwich by the door, can you clean that up.”

Kei groaned exaggeratedly. “Fine, but you’re getting the next one.”

“Deal.”

Being busy wasn’t so bad.

***

Kei collapsed into a chair, finally able to stop moving for the first time in two hours as the last of the soldiers and adventurers filtered out through the door. Lars and Brier each found a place to sit as well, and all three let out similar groans, filling the suddenly-quiet inn.

Behind the bar, Helena looked at the three of them as she dried her hands with a cloth. She laughed, smirking at each in turn. “What a bunch of pansies.”

Brier raised a hand to argue, but let it drop back down with a sigh of resignation.

Kei smiled, rubbing at her arm which was a bit sore from carrying heavy trays of food back and forth. It was a good kind of soreness though, proof of the effort she’d put in.

A bowl clattered onto the bar in front of her, filled with hot stew, steam rising up eagerly from the surface. She looked up to see Helena smiling in a way that seemed strikingly maternal.

“Eat up while it’s still hot.”

Kei raised the spoon to her lips, then recoiled a bit as it burned her tongue. She blew on the rest, cooling the broth before attacking it with more vigor. Her eyes followed the older woman as she walked across the room, bringing bowls to both of the other workers who gratefully accepted it. Finally, she sat down and served herself, smiling contentedly as she enjoyed the fruits of her labor.

It was quiet as they ate at first. Everyone was hungry, and they enjoyed the lull in the crowd.

After some time though, Lars got up, bringing his bowl over to the bar to sit across from Kei. Brier followed suit a minute later, and they began to chat.

“You’re getting the hang of it Kei,” the barkeep said with a smile. “The soldiers seem to love you.”

Helena rolled her eyes. “They’re young men on duty and she’s a pretty young woman with food and a smile for them. Of course they love her.” She grabbed Kei’s hand warmly. “But he’s right, you’re doing a great job.”

Kei blushed a bit—there had been some inappropriate comments the first day, but they’d mostly stopped after Helena overheard and kicked three men out, all of them with new bruises. And besides, they were nothing compared to some of the things that had been said to her in the past. She smiled though, looking at her other hand. “I’m just trying my best, I don’t have anything better to do right? I’m glad I can help.”

To her surprise, she actually enjoyed helping around the inn. She hadn’t done much physical work before, a fact which alienated her even from the Nladian servants her father kept, who were forced to work every day in service of the Ameas family even as children. There was a certain empathy to it though—a bond formed with the other three workers by the effort they shared.

And best of all, they didn’t know her as Kei Ameas, second heir to the family, or even as Kei Hayashi, the daughter of a Nladian concubine. She was just Kei.

“Anybody want to tell me what a great job I’m doing?” Brier tried, looking hopefully at the older couple.

“What kind of grown man goes around fishing for praise?” Helena scowled. “You’ve been working for two years now and she’s almost as good as you are. What does that say about how great a job you’re doing?”

Brier winced theatrically, clutching his chest. “How could you say such a thing about your favorite grandson?”

“I don’t have a grandson you brat! Nor am I so old that I’d overlook you insinuating it!”

“I don’t know…” He looked to the side as he trailed off. “Your hair’s looking a bit gray lately.”

“Why you little—!”

Lars glanced over at Kei as the two of them quarreled, shooting her a look that said, can you believe these two? Kei giggled silently, enjoying the atmosphere. Brier and Helena argued more than anyone could imagine, but there was never any heat in it. It ended with Helena standing triumphantly over a hunched Brier, wooden spoon in hand, as the boy desperately apologized for the joke.

She accepted the apology and Brier stood back up, stretching as though he hadn’t just been beaten with a spoon.

“Alright, I’ve got to run some errands, I’ll be back before the dinner rush.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead before heading towards the door.

Helena waved him off with a smile, their earlier spat apparently forgotten. “Don’t be late.”

“When have I ever been?” He laughed as the door closed behind him.

“That boy…” She muttered.

“He’s always been that way,” Lars chuckled. “I remember when he used to steal sweets around town and try to blame it on the other kids. Even tried to say it was a bird once, like a bird stole a pie right out of a window! You’d think he’d have grown out of it by now.” Lars leaned back in his chair, shaking his head fondly.

Helena snorted, crossing her arms. “If anything, he’s worse now. At least back then, he had the excuse of being a child. Now he’s just an idiot.”

Kei grinned, glancing toward the door where Brier had just disappeared. “He’s not so bad. Keeps things lively around here.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lars smiled.

“Strider shit!” Helena suddenly exclaimed. “We’re out of cheese.”

“You didn’t buy any earlier?”

“It slipped my mind,” she frowned. “Damn, I don’t have time to go back to the market now, I have to start on dinner, we’re almost out of stew so I need it ready soon.”

“I can—” Lars paused, shaking his head. “No, nevermind. I have to check on the barrels in the cellar before the evening crowd arrives. If I leave to get it, I won’t have time. It’ll have to wait till tomorrow. They’ll survive without it for one night.”

“I can get it.” Kei looked to the right, but the voice was hers. Why was her hand in the air?

The married couple looked at eachother, they hadn’t seen her leave the inn since she arrived. They looked back at her. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yeah, I know where the market is. I saw it when I got to town.”

“Well… if you say so, just try to be back before sunset. Hopefully it’s not too busy right now.” Helena pushed a small leather bag across the counter, and when Kei checked inside it was filled with copper coins.

“I’ll be back shortly.” After taking off her apron, she walked to the door, staring down at the handle. Her hand touched the cool metal and stopped. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a trip to the market. This wasn’t Taravast, it was fine.

“Kei are you—”

She swung the door open and stepped into the cold air outside. It nipped at her, making her breath catch, but only for a moment. The door slowly closed behind her, and she stood there as people walked past.

Nothing happened.

“Of course not.” She muttered, faintly smiling to herself as she stared at the cobble beneath her feet. Then, air filled her lungs as she took a deep breath, stretching and looking up towards the sky.

“Alright! Cheese time!” She declared loudly. A few people shot her odd glances and she blushed.

Who am I? Corrin?

The walk to the market didn’t take long, only ten minutes or so, even with the busy streets, and after waiting in a short line, she was able to pay for the wheel of cheese, handing the woman the coins as she began to wrap the cheese in paper. When she finished, Kei thanked her and took it, a bit surprised by how heavy the wheel was.

The weight made her pause briefly but she adjusted her grip and walked away from the stall. As she took each step, she felt even better. Estin wasn’t Taravast. She could handle a quick trip, she’d gotten stronger.

The market buzzed with activity, even as the sun grew low. The noises of merchants calling out their wares, the chatter of customers haggling, and the sound of clinking coins in exchange made the atmosphere feel alive, bustling, and she relished in it. As she passed a vendor selling herbs and flowers, she felt herself truly begin to relax.

Then, she bumped into someone. She’d been looking around the busy street, finally enjoying the sights of the town, and then impact. It was unexpected, and the wheel of cheese nearly slipped from her grasp, but it wasn’t painful. She looked up to apologize to the man she’d bumped into.

A soldier looked back down at her. A soldier in Taravastian colors. Kei jolted back in surprise, her breath catching in her throat.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snapped, stepping forward without giving her much room to move. His voice was low, full of annoyance.

Kei’s chest tightened, but she quickly forced herself to smile, trying to brush it off. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t see you there.”

The soldier’s eyes flicked to her hands and then back to her face, studying her with an unsettling intensity. Kei couldn’t help but shrink back a little. Stay calm. It's just a soldier. No reason to get nervous.

His eyes flashed with recognition, and she felt the ground slip out from under her, like she was falling.

“I didn’t realize that your people had spread this far. You’re like a damn plague.”

Her chest tightened, and despite the small, hopeful voice in her head telling her to stay calm, she couldn’t suppress the rising panic. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean…” she lied.

His face twisted. “Don’t lie to me half-breed. You might fool the people out here, but I fought in the war, I know a Nladian devil when I see one.”

I’m from House Ameas. I’m from House Ameas. Say it Kei!

She couldn’t. The words caught in her throat like bile, too disgusting to let out. Instead, her hand tightened on the wheel of cheese, her knuckles white as she fought to steady her breathing. For a moment, she stood frozen, her chest rising and falling sharply. Her mouth was dry. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

A memory crawled its way up, a Nladian child, beaten in the street by a shop owner that caught him stealing. A woman, arrested for insulting an Edrian soldier. The only difference between herself and them was her name. That was all.

The soldier roughly shoved her aside, throwing her to the ground. She hit the cobblestone hard, the cheese falling out of her hands. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she held them in. Blood dripped from her elbow where it had scraped the rough ground.

The soldier, a man whose name she didn’t even know, spit on the ground at her feet, and turned to walk away.

The butt of a spear slammed into his gut.

The force of the blow threw him backwards and knocked his feet out from under him. He flew a good five feet before landing in a heap on the ground.

Standing where he’d been only a moment earlier was a young man about her age with long-reddish brown hair. His skin was lightly tanned, and he had a lean, warrior’s frame. He had a long spear with a long tooth on its end, and he held it casually as he glared at the soldier on the ground a few feet away.

After a moment, the soldier shakily got to his knees, dry heaving as he glared up at the spot he’d been standing a moment before.

“You… bastard. What the hell do you think you’re—”

“Despicable!” The young man interrupted loudly. A few nearby people slowed as they walked, looking over at the confrontation. “What kind of soldier attacks a civilian, let alone a young woman minding her own business in the market?”

The soldier coughed. “You don’t understand, she—”

“I saw the whole thing! Don’t try to lie to me scum.”

“She’s Nladian! The blood of those devils runs courses through her veins. Who gives a damn what I do? If this were Edria I could—”

Quicker than Kei could follow, the man’s spear shot out, catching the soldier’s face with a loud crack! He yelped in pain as it began to immediately swell.

The spearman crouched, his voice low as he met the soldier’s eyes. The atmosphere grew dangerous, like a river with a current strong enough to sweep her away. “This isn’t Edria, and I don’t give a damn if she’s from Nladia, Edria, or even The Burning Isles. You’ll leave her the hell alone.”

Then he stood again, and the atmosphere faded. His face brightened as he reached out a hand to help her up. “Are you injured?”

Kei stared at the hand for a moment before taking it, pulling herself up. “I’m—I’m fine. Thank you”

He looked down at her hand, and only then did she realize she was still trembling. He ignored it though, and looked past her. “I’m afraid the cheese may not be.”

She looked down at it, having broken into two pieces against the cobblestone. It wouldn’t be safe to eat even in one piece. She clenched her fist, tears threatening to spill out again.

“Let me buy you another one,” the man offered.

“No, I couldn’t impose. It wasn’t your fault.” She shook her head. She could pay it from her own money and tell Helena what happened.

No… she didn’t want them to know.

“Please, I insist. If you must, you can pay me back with a bit of advice. ” He smiled an easy smile, his tone friendly.

Kei paused, hesitating as she studied his eyes. He didn’t seem to be looking down at her like the soldier had. In fact, he almost seemed like he genuinely wanted to help, even after the confrontation. The whole situation felt vaguely familiar.

In the end, her curiosity got the best of her. “Advice?”

His face fell a bit, growing red. “Yes well, you see I have this… friend. We got into an argument, and I might’ve upset her. I wanted to get flowers to apologize, but then I started looking and I realized I have no idea which to get. You’re close enough in age, I figure you might be able to help me?”

Kei blinked. She looked at the spearman, then over to the soldier who was stumbling away from the scene, then back. The spearman looked to be about her age, and he was scratching his neck as he waited for her answer, chuckling awkwardly.

She let out a single laugh. The tension left her shoulders. How many idiots were there in the world?

He smiled as she did, but it wasn’t as easy as before, like he’d been reminded of something distasteful. “Feeling a bit better? That’s fantastic. Will you help me then?”

She laughed again. “Sure, I’d be happy to, but I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”

“You have my thanks. And please, let me walk you home after.” He stared at the soldier’s distant back, a bit of fire left in his eyes. “It seems this hunt has attracted some of the most annoying people.”