After utilizing the picture-taking stations -- which involved such highlights as struggling through an artificial hailstorm while our hair and dresses whipped wildly in fake winds, and faux-dueling with fire and ice -- Hannah's parents once more congratulated her and excused themselves. Staring after their retreating forms, I said, "They're happy for you, but..."

Hannah beckoned down a wine tray, and we all refilled our glasses. She took a long slug and said, "But they've always hoped I'd take over their generalist shop. And now I've made Adept as a specialist instead."

Oh. None of us seemed to know what to say to that. Surprisingly, Tom spoke first. "But you still help out with the store."

"Sure do." She looked around at our awkward faces and rolled her eyes. "So they'll have to find another apprentice. Big deal! Shall we go do something, or just keep drinking all night long?"

"Do something!" Bessie clapped her hands. "How about we each pick an activity that everybody has to try?"

"Not dancing," I said.

"Fine. Any other vetoes?" I looked down, flushing, as Tom and Hannah shook their heads. "Then let's drink and think. Oh, and maybe use the bathroom?"

In short order, we went on the ice slides (not sledding or tubing, no, Bessie specifically wanted to try sliding in the manner of unrestrained children); engaged in a snowball fight (though she'd requested it, Hannah wasn't particularly adept. I was sure I'd be run over, but [Magic Hand] proved surprisingly effective at flinging and dumping snow); and, at my behest, tried ice skating (Bessie fell over immediately, stood, wobbled, and fell again. The rest of us clung helplessly as babes to the side barrier before the golems rescued and guided us).

Finally, it was Tom's turn. We picked up new glasses and filled them while we waited. The miniature train pulled into the stop, and after everybody was seated, resumed its steady course.

"This is nice," Bessie said, sinking back with a sigh. "And I think I could learn to like ice skating. Say, are there golems to help with dancing too?"

"Of course," Hannah said. "The ballroom dancing golems are pretty popular."

"What do you think, Rena? You're already at a party, so why not try?" I swallowed wine and shook my head. "Oh, come on. Think of it as something else to learn?"

"I'm just not interested in dancing." I stared down into my half-empty glass.

Tom said, "Is it because we'll split off?"

"No," Bessie said disbelievingly. My cheeks colored, but I didn't deny it. "Really? Rena, you know you don't need us to have fun."

At this, I had to look up. "Untrue! I wouldn't even be here if not for you." I was suddenly aware of all the people who could see us sitting in the train and straightened self-consciously.

"Of course we like spending time together, but we can also meet new people, try different things, separate and maybe come back together. Don't look at me like that, we're not abandoning you or anything. I just think it would do you good to stretch your wings a little." Bessie's eyes fell on a spot on my dress, and her lips twitched. "Maybe you'll learn to fly, little penguin."

"Penguins can't fly," I said.

"They can't? That's so sad." She blinked. "Right, bad example. Er. Can turkeys fly?"

"Wild ones, yes. The domesticated kind, no."

"Huh... somehow that is even sadder." Privately, I agreed, whether or not we were using the bird as a metaphor. "You can be a dove then!"

"You just want to ditch me to dance," I accused.

"I do." Bessie felt no shame. "And I don't want to see you standing off to the side, watching me with your big eyes like you're waiting to be rescued."

Hannah and Tom had emptied their wine glasses. (How many was that by now?) They were feeling guilty, which made me realize none of them were on board with spending the whole party as a group before leaving together. It was just me who was clinging onto them to keep afloat.

"All right," I said in a small voice. "I can try dancing."

The instant relief made me feel both better and worse, but I put on a brave face and followed my friends off the train. Hannah waved down a wine tray and encouraged me to finish and refill. "Liquid courage," she said, though she didn't abstain herself.

By the time I'd drained my... honestly, who was counting? My most recent glass... I was feeling better. But then if we needed drink to have fun, were we really having fun? Hm, that sounded more sensical -- sensible? -- in my head before becoming words. I giggled to myself a little. Bessie met my eyes and smiled.

We were approaching one of the dancing areas, where I could see the floor was packed. The columns once more showed their brilliance. From outside looking in, the space was illuminated only by the multi-colored floor tiles, roving strobe lights, and a slightly elevated ribbon of flooring kept clearly visible like a spotlighted stage. Thus, we caught no more than tantalizing glimpses of most dancers unless they wanted to show off (or enjoyed dancing from a half-step higher perch).

I stared curiously at the figures waving their arms and gyrating their hips to a fast beat, sounding like it was thumping against the noise-dampening wards. "What sort of dancing is this?"

"Freestyle," Hannah said. "I think you'll probably be more comfortable with the other type. Come on."

We passed through a resting area, setting our glasses down on a long refreshments table before continuing on. This second dance space lacked the strobe lights or multi-colored tiles, but again most appeared as shadowy background dancers revolving around a contrastingly clear center. A few intrepid partners danced within this spotlight, while more swept briefly through. Just judging by the elegant, moderate music, this was indeed more my style. However...

"I still don't know how to dance." For some reason this fact no longer bothered me, but I did think it worth mentioning.

"That's fine," Hannah said. "Ballroom dancing's much easier for girls starting out. Ah, here we are."

She'd led us to a small teaching area to the side with the previously promised golems, overseen by an instructor. The birdlike woman -- long thin face, beaked nose, feather collar -- taught me the basic steps of a cross-step waltz and then had me continue learning with a partnered golem, occasionally dispensing advice: "Stop looking at your feet. If you lose your step, simply join again on the next cross step."

It was actually a lot easier than I'd expected. I simply followed the golem's clear lead, moving and spinning as directed, while repeating the same basic footwork. And if I made mistakes, who cared? I had no goal here other than having fun. Nobody even knew me, my friends having left for the other dance floor.

As though mirroring my thoughts, the instructor said, "Good, you are smiling. That is the most important part." She meant it, too. "Are you ready for a turn around the floor?"

"I am!" Of course I was smiling. Who knew I could pick up something like this easily?

The golem smoothly led me through other dancers in an easy circle before returning to where we'd started. "Good," the instructor said. "Now ask someone to dance."

I blinked but followed her instruction, approaching an unpaired gentleman with my request. "I only know the cross-step waltz though!"

Fortunately, he accepted and led gracefully, moving slowly and sedately as befit his advanced age and formal manner. When the song ended, we continued dancing, and when the next began, he simply disregarded the faster beat and maintained our own pace, so we were as a pair of ponderous whales among schools of darting fish. I relaxed into his hold and laughed when he spun me, enjoying the dancing, the newness of everything, the happy friendly atmosphere, and that lightheaded floaty feeling.

The song ended; he bowed, and I curtsied before returning to my instructor, except I was intercepted on the way by a dapper-looking fellow offering me his gloved hand. "May I have this dance?"

Yes, and yes to the next, and yes-- oh he didn't know the cross-step waltz but that was fine. I approached one of the available better leaders, who amiably taught me a few moves with varying success as we danced. He even, with my consent, led me through the spotlighted center!

Which was where I saw Georgina, dancing with a short bald man with large ears. Despite her towering over him in her high heels, the pair looked the opposite of ridiculous, moving together fluidly and effortlessly with evident experience and enjoyment. Noting my attention, my partner led me in their direction. I sensed the moment Georgina spotted us, though she coyly affected not to, leaning forward to whisper something into an overlarge ear. Then, laughing, the two twirled away into the crowd of other dancers, soon disappearing from view.

My partner politely forbore to comment and, as the song ended, dipped me slightly with reassuring confidence. After returning upright, I smiled and thanked him with sincerity, but the airy magical feeling of earlier was gone. It wasn't only Georgina's attitude; she'd also popped my comfortable bubble of anonymity.

Returning to the resting area, I discovered my feet hurt and I was parched. Looking around, I didn't immediately see any cups of water on offer, but right there... that fizzing liquid looked nice...

"Rena!"

I blinked up from where I'd been staring into my... umpteenth glass. "Bessie? Why're you here alone?"

"Looking for you, obviously." She stared at me with furrowed brows. "I think you've had enough to drink."

Did she think I'd been sitting out here drinking this whole time? I started to giggle. "Relax," I told her. "Stop overthinking, I mean worrying!" When this failed to attain the desired effect, I wobbled to my feet, hugged her, and tugged her to sit beside me, leaning my head on her shoulder. She was reassuringly solid as always. "Everything is wonderful, Bessie. And everybody is wonderful. You are wonderful!"

"Wonderful," she muttered.

The wards here were so beautiful. I suddenly had the idea maybe she wasn't having fun because she couldn't see them and said, "You know mana sensitivity can be trained. It's like wine conne... connor..." I frowned and clearly enunciated, "Connoisseurs. Who drink any wine, and know about their vine?"

Wine, vine. I started giggling again.

"What are you talking about?" She bubbled with exasperation. Bubbled like champagne...

"You!" I glomped her again. "You're the best-est friend anyone could ask for, thank you Bessie!"

"You are so funny when you're drunk."

"I am not!" I said. "You're funny. Or you normally are. What's wrong? Isn't this a fun party?"

"Yes..." Sighing, she untangled us to grab a glass for herself. Wait, where did mine go? While I was looking around, she resumed speaking. "It's also the end of the year. The night for offloading burdens."

I blinked back to her. "You have burdens?"

"Do you know," she said after nearly draining her glass, "I never wanted or expected to be team leader? I thought I would be the team goofball, the one who cheers everybody up." She laughed shortly. "The one who makes the other members laugh, but who sometimes runs off to do her own thing."

"Wow..." My head spun a little at this image. She fell silent, so I prompted: "Then what happened?"

"I don't know." She sighed again. "I guess Tom's always followed my lead, and Hannah at first wasn't sociable. Blake still isn't." Finishing her drink, she set it down with the many other emptied glasses. "So now I have to be the responsible one."

I blinked, slowly. I could tell we were actually having a serious conversation. "You're not responsible for me," I said. "Or my choices."

"If something happened to you on my watch..." She shook her head. "I'd never be able to make up for it. I'd never forgive myself, no matter what else I might manage to accomplish."

"You aren't responsible," I repeated. I felt more sober already.

"But I am." She looked directly at me. "I'm enabling you. You couldn't keep visiting Duni without us. You wouldn't have met that undine..."

"Bessie, why are you only worrying about this now? You're an adventurer! You take insane risks all the time!" Then I realized: "It's me, isn't it. You think... do you think I'm not cut out for adventuring?"

She gazed at me challengingly. "Are you?"

"Um..." I floundered. "Aren't you supposed to be encouraging me?"

"See, I want to, but I also worry. Have you seriously fought a single monster yet?" I swallowed and shook my head. "Are you just going to avoid it until you're taken by surprise out on the field?" After a moment, when I had no answer, she went on. "And this business communing with Duni's core. Is it all covered by you-know-what?"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Um, know what?"

She frowned at me impatiently. "The confidentiality contract?" I hesitated, thinking about it. Duni's anomaly was covered, but my once-nightly visits to its core? Bessie suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders, turning so we faced each other squarely. "Just assume it's covered, all right? Promise me."

I stared at her, more puzzled than anything. "Are you drunk?"

"You don't just ask people that," Tom said.

I blinked at his sudden appearance, but Bessie was unsurprised. Gah, I should really work on noticing these things. Scanning my surroundings belatedly, I noticed a young woman looking in my general direction with intent interest, though she hastily turned away when I stared back at her. Curious, but then Tom's words caught up with me. "You don't?"

"If they aren't, then you're suggesting they are acting like a drunk. But if they are..."

"They'll hardly say, 'Yes! I am absolutely sloshed!'" Bessie contributed.

"...and self-aware."

I eyed Bessie, who'd stood and was stretching. "You're leaving?"

She paused. "You can see the future now?"

"No, just what you're feeling." Restlessness, determination, relief. "Your attention shifted in that direction. Where's Hannah, anyway?"

"Chasing after that Expert Artisan probably, and you're right. I'm going dancing!" Tossing her hair defiantly, she strode off. "I'm being irresponsible!"

Tom stared after her retreating back before shaking his head. "I need another drink."

He didn't quite look at me as he took his time picking his poison. Now I was paying attention, more signs were almost embarrassingly obvious, and rather than remain curious I said: "You feel like you want to talk. So talk to me."

Tom turned to me in surprise, and I met his eyes boldly. This seemed to be a night for honesty. I wasn't sure if my directness came from drinking or if that was just a liberating excuse, but I was glad not to awkwardly step around him or wait hopefully while pretending not to.

In an unconscious mirror of Bessie, he sat, sighed, and drank before speaking. "I wanted to apologize for how awful I was when we met."

"What?" Here I'd been patting myself on the back for my newfound perceptiveness, and his words took me completely by surprise.

"It's no excuse, but I'd heard all the worst stories about outside our village..."

"I didn't think you were awful."

"Oh, well. I just wanted to get that off my chest. Year's end and all." He cleared his throat. I waited. "Also, I noticed how you seem more comfortable around Bessie and Hannah? I thought it was just that you're all girls, but now it turns out you have some secret understanding with Blake..."

"What? No, it's, I wouldn't call it that!" My face heated. There was an awkward pause wherein I realized I did feel considerably closer to Bessie and Hannah, and in fact I couldn't recall ever spending time with Tom or Blake except as a group or when I gave them Path advice what felt like forever ago. Thinking back, I'd been raised by my grandmother alone and only had the one close female friend before my new beginning in Wilton, so... maybe I wasn't used to men except as authority figures? "Sorry," I said. "You might be right that... I mean, maybe I should work on... I do want to be good friends."

I gave him a quick hug. Tom froze before awkwardly patting me on the back -- awkwardness was normal, I reminded myself -- but feeling compelled to continue this trend of honesty, I blurted after separating: "Also you look exceptionally handsome tonight. I don't know how you managed it, but, um... well done?"

He stared at me and actually blushed. I stared back, caught off-guard by his reaction, when he said: "First anyone's complimented my looks."

Ah. Right after he said it, he seemed mortified to have let slip such a confession, and it probably didn't help he knew I could sense what he was feeling. Casting around for comfort or reassurance, I recalled aloud: "Wait, I read a study on this! On the disparity of compliments given and received. Women compliment and are complimented relatively often, to the point some women strongly prefer compliments unrelated to their external appearance, whereas most men would love any such compliment and might not even realize because they've never experienced it." Was I rambling? But it was worse if I didn't finish, right? "Generalized underlying causes include men's discomfort with complimenting each other's appearance and women's wariness of encouraging unwanted advances. Um... in conclusion, the Scholar proposed old women and other men should preferably give out more compliments."

Tom just stared at me for a wordless moment, but ha! He was no longer embarrassed. "You Scholars study the weirdest things."

"No, we study everything. It's life that is weird."

He relaxed back in his seat, nodding. "Yeah, just take our team. Weird, isn't it, how the five of us are so different?"

"Um? But I'm not in Team Multi-Movers?"

He squinted at me. "Bessie hasn't talked to you yet?" Seeing my confusion, he abruptly stood. "Oh, I better go find her, keep her out of trouble--"

"Now wait a moment. You know I can feel you... evading..." I spoke to the empty air where he'd been.

Unfortunately, his tactic of plunging onto the freestyle dance floor was supremely effective at warding me off. The loud, fast beat suggested the futility of staging an interrogation within its columns.

Vowing to extract my answers later, I gave my next steps due care and consideration.

Some time later, I was well into the process of remedying my return to sobriety when I was surprised by a distinctive tolling. I hastily set down my glass, folded my hands in my lap, and closed my eyes. With year's end, we were supposed to unburden ourselves, and with the new year, to gain new resolve, both preferably shared with others. Thus that liminal time between was for ourselves alone.

I did not think. I just experienced the world officially aging another year.

The bell tolled once more, and I reopened my eyes, picked up my glass, and resumed drinking. I'd thus far ignored the other nearby presences, but I suddenly noticed a familiar stranger eyeing me again. Without giving it any thought, I strode up and said, "Hello, you keep staring at me. Why?"

"Oh!" she said and stared at me some more before speaking rapidly all in one breath: "Sorry just your dress knew it sold but never thought I'd see it here!"

Mm, my thoughts were a little fuzzy, but I understood: "You made this dress?" She nodded, and I beamed. "Thank you so much! I absolutely love it!"

"Oh," she said again, and her cheeks, no, her whole face was red. "I'm so glad! You know it feels like fate we're meeting here, my boss never lets me attend these parties except I just made Adept--"

"You too?" I exclaimed. "My friend Hannah--"

"Hannah Smith?"

And we were both laughing and talking excitedly over one another. I knew we hadn't known each other long, but already I felt like we were great friends. What a start to the year! As she regaled me with complaints over her strict boss, I felt my chest swell with sympathy and said impulsively: "Forget him! Why don't I introduce you to someone better?"

Her hopeful and admiring gaze propelled me onto the dance floor, where I zeroed in on a familiar aura until I found Georgina dancing with the same man again. She coolly dismissed me with inward interest as I approached, but I said to her profile without preamble: "Georgina, you should meet my new friend and Adept! She made this dress I love so much!"

Said friend was staring, awestruck. "Senior Georgina Lauren?" Her voice squeaked a little. "I-it's an honor. I'm so sorry if we're disturbing you..."

Georgina's gaze had somehow simultaneously sharpened and softened. No fool to miss an opportunity, she said, "Not at all. Why don't we move somewhere more private to talk, Adept...?" She exchanged speaking looks with her former dance partner as she guided the younger woman out.

I felt strangely bereft, watching them go. What had happened to that instant connection, that close camaraderie? With... no, what was her name again?

The other abandoned party still stood there regarding me, though I wasn't paying much attention until he suddenly asked, "Do you dance?"

"Um, only the cross-step waltz," I said, "And not very well." I hoped I hadn't already forgotten the steps.

"Nonsense, I saw you earlier. And it's one of my favorites."

To my relief, he soon proved himself as capable a leader as he'd seemed, graciously compensating when I fumbled and guiding me back into the dance. While I was concentrating on not tripping over our feet, he started to introduce himself; one word leapt out at me, making me stumble (again) and gape at him. "You're Georgina's tinker?"

His lips quirked. "Oh, has she talked about me?"

I flushed furiously. I hadn't thought of myself as shallow, but Georgina's warm voice and vibrating excitement, and all right, her manifest attractiveness had made me imagine somebody very different. Besides, this was the thirtieth century. Surely he could afford to appear more presentable if he wanted. Or was he similarly afflicted with monetary troubles?

No, why was I so surprised? For shame!

His eyes twinkling in some secret amusement, he continued gently but firmly leading us around the floor. After a period of silence in which he thoroughly impressed me by directing me through new moves without pausing or speaking, he said, "A word of advice. Sometimes with Georgina you need to match her stubbornness with your own." I stiffened and then made myself relax. We continued dancing. "If you always back off when she pushes," he said, "You'll never get through to her."

I felt like I was running on a limited mental capacity at the moment, but I could sense his goodwill and responded accordingly. "Thank you."

He smiled and twirled me out just as the song ended, so we stopped in place while facing the same direction. I expected he might disappear on me then as well, but he said, "Can you find our wayward friends?"

"Sure," I said and then looked at him sharply. How much had Georgina told him?

His amiable smile didn't waver. "After you," he said, and why not? I led.

They weren't in the resting area, but I sensed Georgina heading back in our direction, alone. When I informed my companion of this, he said, "Perfect. Well, it was lovely to meet you, Rowena Loress. Adieu."

Accepting the dismissal, I availed myself of the ladies' room only to emerge to Georgina. Before I could decide whether or not to greet her or leave, she said, "What did you two talk about?"

My eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't try to pump me for information when you think I'm not myself. I can tell, you know."

"I do, and it's incredibly unsettling." She sniffed and turned on her heel. "I don't know how your friends can stand it."

"I'm sorry," I said, following her and sitting, "But I can't help it! I didn't choose to be an Empath, and I think it's unfair you judge me out of worry I'm judging you."

"I do not."

"No? I really wanted to be friends," I said. "Despite all our differences, I thought we were getting along... but you just hate my Empathy."

She sighed. "No, I just hate knowing how you see me."

"Um... I have no idea what you mean."

"No?" she mimicked me. "You never react as I expect. No wonder, when no matter how I present myself outwardly you can see all of it, my true inner ugliness."

I couldn't help gaping at her. "Is that what you think?"

"So you don't see what an ugly mess I am?" she accused.

"Messy, yes. But ugly isn't a right word." I spoke carefully, ignoring her scoff. "How would you describe a storm? Off-putting and terrible, perhaps. But also mighty, majestic, marvelous." I stared at her, seeing her roiling turmoil, her unceasing tribulations. "Parts of you might be more than a little mad, and I prefer you in manageable doses myself, but... between your internal and external appearances, I find the former the more striking and beautiful."

We fell silent for a moment as she parsed my words. "So I'm a beautiful mess," she said finally. "If I didn't know better, I would swear you were sweet-talking me."

My face flushed. "That's not...!"

"Oh, shush. I'm teasing." Her lips curled up. "Still, how unusually forward of you. Liquid loosened your tongue?"

"And your tinker..." I trailed off awkwardly.

Her brows lifted. "My tinker?"

"Um. I don't remember his name."

"Already?" She actually seemed offended. "You only just met him!"

"I have trouble remembering names without Scribing them," I said. "And it's typically inappropriate to cast [Scribe] right in front of the other person."

"Hm." She tapped a lacquered nail to her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I think it is more how you do it. Yes, I have an idea... similar to your Scroll-holders. Do you have your focus yet? If you're choosing a wand, I could include another... what is it?"

My shoulders had slumped at the reminder. "That's partly why I'm at this party." In brief, I summarized my failed shopping trip. I didn't mention contacting a certain merchant or hoping despite myself to hear back; of course I hadn't. "So I need to buy from an Artisan directly, but you know good foci come from Expert specialists... How am I supposed to afford those prices?"

Georgina blinked and arched her brows. "Maybe I can help you with that."

----------------------------------------

"Are you ready?"

"Not really? I'm pretty nervous."

Georgina stared at me for a moment before laughing. "You're supposed to be nervous and say you're ready anyway."

"Oh, then yes." I could feel her own frisson of nerves and added, "Whether or not this works, thank you."

She flashed me a beatific smile before sweeping forward to our first target, an ambitious and boastful Adept apprenticing under a staff-crafting Expert. In no time, she had him eating out of her hand; full of sympathy for my misfortune in the Merchant's Guildhall -- "what else can you expect from merchants, though?" -- he agreed Artisans were surely the superior choice, yes, even including cost, and among Artisans he was absolutely confident in his work as approved by his esteemed master. "You bet I would bet on it! You say she'll be the judge? What are her qualifications?"

"She's a Scholar," Georgina said smoothly, "With both high mana sensitivity and [Advanced Appraisal]. If you win..."

Her voice trailed off suggestively, and the Adept's eyes gleamed.

As we moved onto the next target and continued down the list, I couldn't help noticing how the other Artisans regarded Georgina. Adepts and lower typically deferred to her with awe, admiration, and envy, but what interested me more was the other higher-ranked Artisans. Hannah and the Senior Smiths had floated along in the party's current, whereas Georgina's passage caused rippling waves. Not, as I'd first presumed, because of her glamorous looks... but because of her earned reputation.

In fact, she reminded me of the noble... no. She was the Artisan equivalent of Derrick! Entrenched within her guild, relatively young, and definitely up-and-coming. How hadn't I seen this before?

Oh, how lucky I was to land her as my tailor.

Finally, she convinced at least one apprentice from all six relevant Experts to agree to our 'best budget focus' contest. "That's a wrap," she stated with satisfaction. "Nothing lowers prices faster than some healthy competition."

"Do you think they will really uphold their ends tomorrow?" I asked.

"On their own? No. 'Quaff and talk, wake and balk.' We'll simply have to remind them in person." I looked at her in surprised gratitude, and she merely arched her brows. "You did do me a service earlier, even if you intended it for the girl. And I repay my debts." Stifling a yawn, she added, "Happy Dawn Day. Say hi to Hannah from me."

"Cheers to a new year," I returned tiredly and went looking for my friends.

To my surprise, everybody was gathered together, feeling rather serious. "Did you decide on your resolve?" Bessie asked.

I blinked at her. "Not yet. Although... I suppose I would like to be braver." 'Like you,' I might've added just two hours earlier. Covering a yawn, I looked around and asked, "Did you all settle already on yours?"

"I resolve to lead our team past this year's qualifiers," Bessie said.

"I resolve to gain an Intermediate archery Skill," Hannah said.

"I resolve to gain six new Resistances," Tom said.

Wow, those were all concrete goals. I hesitated, thinking I should also choose something measurable -- though did it need to be right now? -- when Hannah said, "We have a suggestion for your resolve, actually."

"Um, all right. What is it?"

Bessie leaned forward. "You should take the upcoming Silver-Ranking test."

"Sorry, what?" I blinked at her, at all of them, shaking my head. "I must have misheard." But I hadn't. "You mean the one at the end of January? As in this month?" I boggled at them disbelievingly. "You can't expect me to be ready by then! Wait, I don't even want to be an adventurer!"

"The deadline for registering is tomorrow, or make that today. And you might not be keen on becoming a Silver-Ranker, but you want to be capable, right? You should learn the challenge ahead of you."

"Where is this even coming from?" I demanded in bewilderment. "Why the sudden rush?" They exchanged glances, and I straightened. "I knew it. What's the real reason?"

"Not telling," Bessie said. "Take the test and find out."

I rubbed my eyes and then winced at the smudge on my hand from my makeup. She was dead serious, I could tell. "But why?"

"That would be telling."

Dawn Day, new year; new troubles to bear. "This is a trick," I said, "You're just trying to make me curious..." But no, that didn't feel right.

I needed a drink.

"We've corrupted her," I heard Hannah whisper as we each grabbed glasses. Ignoring this, I gulped down, and even if it was just in my mind, I felt more relaxed already. And still so ready to be done with all this and in bed.

"All right," I said. "Let's try this again. Explain to me why I should resolve to fail a test?"

"Because you want to be braver," Bessie said. "It's not really brave to face a test you're prepared for, and who knows how long that'll take. Duni could already be destroyed."

"I gained [Triple Shot] during my exam," Hannah said. "It's a great opportunity to have real stakes."

"Weren't you complaining about [Mind Over Matter]?" Tom said. "And how precious your time is? This would be like another bet with that noble."

Whoa, maybe I needed to sleep and be sober, since this was all starting to make some strange sort of sense. I actually felt tempted. And that would be bad, reckless, irresponsible... right?

But then Bessie said: "Have I ever led you wrong?"

I stared at her, at all of them, at the end of a party that had been weirdly wonderful with and without them. It was Dawn Day, a new year. "All right. Fine." I huffed a half-laugh, half-sigh. "I resolve to take the Silver-Ranking test that's in less than a month." As the words left my mouth, excitement jolted through me. My friends were cheering and clapping, and feeling madly daring, a whole new Rena, I smiled and lifted my glass. "Why not? Now can we please be done with this party?"