(Dylan)

Dylan wondered, ‘How long until—’ Suddenly, the deck shifted under his feet as the airship ascended. Thrown off balance, he quickly wrapped his arms around the sturdiest thing he could find—Wedge.

“Sorry,” he said, looking up to offer a weak smile.

Wedge peered down at him. “Introduce yourselves. We will meet with Tome & Key shortly.” He stepped back, giving Dylan and the others a moment to get acquainted.

W’itney tapped Hay’len with the back of their hand, nodding toward Dylan. “He’s cute, and he’s funny.”

‘Not this again…’ Dylan briefly closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts before opening them again, determined not to be awkward again.

Hay’len’s eyes glanced at him for a moment before darting away while W’itney’s gaze lingered.

The older twin sauntered right up to Dylan, leaning into the railing beside him. “Hi, I’m W’itney.” They gave him a devious smile, laced with intentions.

“Hi.” Dylan took a page from Charles, responding with a curt nod. He’d focused on keeping Auto-manners, and his arms in check. ‘That’s flirting, right? I think they’re flirting with me…’ he thought, wishing he had someone to ask.

W’itney reached over and pulled a reluctant Hay’len over by the arm. “And this is my gorgeous sibling, Hay’len.”

Hay’len pulled their arm free, straightening their vest with a quiet sigh. They appeared as uncomfortable as Dylan with being placed in the spotlight. They gave Dylan another quick glance before dropping their gaze to the floor.

After an awkward pause, W’itney gave Hay’len a pointed glance. “Don’t be rude. Why don’t you say hello?”

Hay’len looked up for a moment and, with a voice as quiet as their presence, said, “Hi, I’m Hay’len.” They flashed a quick smile and gave a small nod.

W’itney slid down the railing, inching towards Dylan until their arms touched. They leaned in toward him and asked, “And who might you be?”

“I’m Dylan.” He took a step back. ‘Does no one understand personal space here?’ he wondered.

“So, Dylan,” W’itney said, trying the name out. “Are you from around here?”

Dylan shook his head, not wanting to explain further.

“I thought so. I’ve never seen such a well-proportioned elf before—”

“He’s not an elf,” Eury cut in. She sat further down the railing, arms crossed, watching the exchange.

Hay’len cocked their head. “Not an elf?” Their eyes narrowed as they began scrutinizing Dylan, trying to figure him out.

Dylan shifted uncomfortably on his feet, unsure if being a science project was any better than a hunk of meat.

W’itney turned toward Eury. “How’s he not?” They gestured toward Dylan. “He’s elf-shaped.”

Eury scoffed. “That,” she lifted a finger at Dylan, “is not elf-shaped…”

‘Elf-shaped? What does that even mean?’ he wondered, unsure whether it was a compliment as he glanced between them.

W’itney turned to Dylan. “You’re elven, right?”

Dylan sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. “Nope.”

W’itney shook their head. “I don’t believe you.” They held out their clawed hand. “Prove it.”

Dylan stared at the open hand, unsure how to prove that he was, in fact, not an elf.

Hay’len rolled their eyes, lowered their sibling’s hand with a small sigh, and took out their own League card. “Here,” they said, handing it to him. “Do you have a League card like this?”

Dylan took the card and read it.

Name: Hay’len

Origin: Xel’oria

Race: Draconi

Gender: Unchosen

Rank: Mundane

Status: Citizen

Titles: N/A

Dylan frowned, clicking his tongue and sighing loudly. Mother of Dragons translated to Xel’oria, and the origin on this League card stated it correctly. Begrudgingly, he took out his own for comparison, still sore that they had gotten Earth wrong.

Name: Dylan

Origin: Dirt

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Rank: Unranked

Status: Refugee

Titles: N/A

Eury appeared out of nowhere to swipe his card before anyone else could react, her lips moving silently as she read it to herself.

Dylan jumped. ‘How are elves so quiet?!’ he wondered, glancing back to where she was just a moment ago.

‘And why do they all look like supermodels?’ Minus the Spock ears, most of the elves he’d met were exceptionally attractive—if you were into fit, symmetrically proportioned, well-defined figures. But there was something different about Eury, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Dirt,” Eury said flatly.

‘I knew it.’ He closed his eyes, letting out a defeated sigh.

Until now, he hadn’t let anyone see his League card, clinging to one last sliver of hope that Dirt was just a clerical error they hadn’t actually printed. But the conventionally attractive elf had just stolen that from him.

“Dylan of Dirt,” she said, adding insult to injury. “Odd name for a world.” She lowered the card to appraise him.

W’itney stood by their sibling and said, “The good ole, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…” They elbowed Hay’len playfully. “Didn’t know you had it in you.” They gave an approving nod and winked. “Good job.”

Hay’len started. “That’s not—”

W’itney ignored them, reaching to snag the League card from Eury. “Let me see.” A moment later, they glanced up from the card in surprise. “You’re unranked?” They gasped, turning back to Hay’len. “Oh no, he’s cute, funny, and he’s got abilities.” W’itney bit their lip. “I’m in trouble…”

Hay’len took the card from their twin, reviewing it for themselves, and added, “He’s also a refugee.”

Dylan stood there, absently picking at his nails, feeling as if he were a collectible card being passed around.

W’itney took out their League card, handing it to him. Dylan wondered what it meant that their gender was unchosen, but before he could ask—

The twins bombarded him with questions, their words overlapping as they continued before he could answer. “What orbs do you have?” “Are you single?” “Where’s your caseworker?” “Did you arrive by astral ship?” “Are you rich?” “Are all humans cute?” “Did you run away?” “Do you have a twin?” “Why did you run away?” “Do you prefer males or females?” “What’s Dirt like?”

Eury cut in, holding up a hand and stepping between the three of them. “Let him breathe for Mother’s sake.”

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Hay’len’s excitement deflated. “Sorry, Princess.” They lowered their head. “We’ve never met an off-worlder before.” They glanced up, rubbing their thumb into the palm of their hand.

Dylan noticed Eury’s jaw clenching when Hay’len addressed her; he didn’t think she appreciated the nickname.

“Yes, this is all terribly exciting for us.” W’itney remained unfazed by Eury’s admonishment. “We’re from Dartmouth.”

Dylan had just as many questions for the twins. Unsure which to ask first, he chose the first that came to mind. “Are draconi twins common?”

Hay’len shook their head. “No, not at all. It’s a rare phenomenon, involving spontaneous incarnate separation. Normally, a soul resides in one body, but in our case, our soul inhabits both of us.”

“Wait.” Dylan lifted a finger at them both. “So, you’re the same person?”

Hay’len shook their head again, but W’itney took over the conversation. “No, we’re individuals…” A lecherous grin formed on their face. “What do you know about the draconi reproductive cycle?”

Dylan blinked, but before he could send anyone to Horny Jail, Eury took care of it.

“Oh no!” She frowned, waving both of her hands. “We are absolutely not having that discussion.”

“Tailblock…” W’itney muttered, glaring at Eury.

Dylan tried to redirect the conversation. “And where are you from, Eury?”

“Not Dartmouth…” was all she offered.

W’itney leaned back against the railing again, crossing their arms with a smirk. “Now Princess, it’s only fair to show him your League card. You’ve seen his.”

Eury’s nostrils flared. “Stop calling me that.” She turned to face Dylan. “And life isn’t fair. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he’ll survive without seeing it.”

Dylan thought twice before saying something about unwanted nicknames. ‘She doesn’t need me to step in,’ he realized. ‘She can handle herself.’

The twins were just as curious as he was, and they took turns asking him questions. Dylan told them as little as possible about his magic ability—not that he knew much anyway. Dodging so many questions wasn’t easy, but he managed to summarize the past week of his life.

Eury seemed content to let the twins ask all the questions, still benefiting from just listening. She reminded Dylan of his rugged friend, quietly gathering information before giving a measured response. The twins knew a lot about her, even though they had only recently met. Dylan noticed that direct questions about her were met with either vague answers or outright silence.

Wedge returned an hour later to collect them, leading the initiates into the Captain’s Quarters. Inside, a large table held a regional map—the first glimpse Dylan would have of the world outside Dartmouth.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight, not knowing what to expect or how to read the map—he wasn’t a cartographer. It looked like all the fantasy maps he’d seen in video games. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered playing NeverQuest, Rune-escape, World of Peacecraft, First Fantasy XIV, and Build Wars 2.

Dartmouth sat in the middle of a large continent. He didn’t have enough time to study the map before Wedge stepped forward, motioning toward each initiate as he introduced them. “W’itney and Hay’len are locals from Dartmouth.” He motioned to the twin draconi before pointing at Dylan. “This is Dylan of Dirt. And finally, we have Princess Eury.” He gave her a courteous nod.

Eury cleared her throat. “Just… Eury, please.” She stood straighter, shaking off her flushed cheeks.

Dylan’s brows shot up. “Wait—she’s an actual princess?” When no one answered, he turned to her, whispering, “You’re an actual princess?”

“Initiates should only speak when asked a direct question,” Runemist said from the head of the table. Both Dylan and Eury tried to apologize, but she ignored them and introduced her team.

“I am Runemist, mender and team leader of Tome & Key.” She pointed to the elf relaxing beside her. “Quinten is our summoner.” He wore a carefree smile, hands locked behind his head, rocking his chair back on two legs.

She stared at the overly confident draconi posing in the center of the room. “P’reslen is our corruptor.” Dylan eyed the green-scaled man, standing with feet shoulder-width apart, chest puffed, and hands on his hips in a heroic pose.

Then she pointed to an elf with intense eyes. “Ostello is our striker.” He leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

“And joining us for this quest will be Athrax.” She nodded to the old okamijin, who stood at attention, both hands behind his back. “He’ll be our brawler.”

She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of them. “It’ll take us four days to reach our destination and four days to return. That only leaves us with six days to find and collect our objective.”

Dylan tried to raise his hand, but his mouth was too fast. “Why are we spending more than half of our time traveling?” He winced, shutting his eyes. “Sorry.”

Runemist turned her attention to him. “Because we only have a two-week charter for the Everafter. So, unless you’ve got a transport ability to carry us across the continent… please hold your questions until after.”

She took a breath. “Our target is a skill book.” She paused, giving them time to process. A wave of whispers filled the room with unasked questions. Athrax was the first to voice his thoughts out loud.

“A skill book?! For a quest? Is the League aware of this?” He wasn’t alone in his concern. The rest of Tome & Key obviously took issue, but none were so vocal.

W’itney gasped, their eyes growing large while Hay’len’s mouth hung open. Eury’s eyes narrowed as she clenched her jaw. Even Wedge appeared surprised to hear this information.

Dylan glanced around the room, confused at their reactions, feeling the thickening tension. He turned to Wedge and asked, “What’s so bad about a skill book?”

Athrax leaned forward like he didn’t hear Dylan correctly. The twins exchanged wide-eyed, disbelieving glances, and Eury blinked, her gaze snapping to him as though he’d just said something unbelievable. Even Wedge met Dylan’s eyes with an almost sympathetic, sad expression.

Runemist ignored them all and said, “If you find the book, don’t open it, and for Mother’s sake, don’t read the infernal thing.” She ensured they were listening before continuing, “While the initiates are off training, proving themselves, and hauling our gear, Tome & Key will scour the designated area for the target.” The room was silent, the shock of the quest still settling in on both teams.

She turned toward Athrax. “I’ll remind you, Guildmaster K’hab himself entrusted us with this task, and I trust he has good reasons this is a quest and not a contract.”

The old soldier took a deep breath, and his rigid stance eased slightly.

“Now, are there questions?” She glanced around the room.

Dylan raised his hand but didn’t wait to be called on. “Why is this a quest and not a contract?”

Runemist’s jaw tightened. “Are there questions about the mission?” She resumed looking around the room.

“Do skill books disappear after you use them?” Dylan’s questions never seemed to end.

She let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her temple. “Wedge, can we make sure Dylan doesn’t get the infernal book?” Wedge gave her a nod before his eyes drifted toward Dylan.

Runemist took a deep breath. “Any… other questions?” Before Dylan could tempt fate, she added, “Other than Dylan’s.”

Unfortunately, he was the only one with more questions. He frowned, lowering his hand when she didn’t call on him again.

In three words, the meeting was over. “You’re all dismissed.”

Runemist turned to Wedge and said, “You’ve got four days to train him—push him until he breaks. See me when he does, and I’ll mend him back together. You can start after you’ve had something to eat.”

Without waiting for his response, she walked out of the room with her team.

Dylan glanced between Wedge and the other initiates. “Why’s she mad at me? What did I do?”

Wedge stood motionless for a moment, measuring his response. “Runemist does not have patience for weakness or ignorance, and you represent both.”

Dylan winced. “That’s really hurtful, Wedge, but I know it’s coming from a good place, so I won’t take it personally.”

Wedge turned and walked toward the door. “You can ask more questions after we improve your fitness. I will return after lunch.”

Dylan pursed his lips. “That’s not ominous at all…”

“Before you go—” he raised a finger, hurrying after the big guy, “what’s the deal with skill books?” Wedge ignored his question and left.

Dylan crossed his arms. “Why is everyone so cranky?”

Eury narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, assessing him. “Do you really not know about skill books?”

Dylan shook his head slowly. “I got here a week ago, and magic doesn’t exist on my planet.”

She tilted her head. “That’s… hard to believe.” Her eyes drifted to the side, thinking of the implications. “And even more troubling, if it’s true.”

Dylan scratched his head. “So… you’re a real princess?”

Eury sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, but I won’t answer any of your questions if you use my title.” She looked at him flatly, hands on her hips.

“Got it.” He counted off the list of no’s on one hand. “No spelling, no abbreviating, and apparently no princess-ing either.” He scratched his arm. “It just keeps getting longer.”

Eury peered around Dylan, waiting for the twins to leave for lunch. Even after they were the only two remaining in the room, she lowered her voice. “Skill books are dreadful things.”

“But do they give you magical abilities?” He matched her tone. “Because it sounds like they give you magical abilities.”

“Yes.” She sighed, nodding reluctantly. “They’re a way to gain more magical abilities past the limit.”

“Hold up.” He leaned in closer to Eury. This was the first he’d heard of any limits—Charles must’ve left that part out. “What do you mean? There’s a limit on how much magic I can have?”

“Of course there’s a limit.” She looked at him like he had two heads. “Why do you want to become an adventurer if you don’t even know the basics?”

Dylan gave a tight-lipped smile. “Let me refer back to the part where I’ve only had access to magic for a week now.”

She gave him a flat look. “Yet somehow, you’ve already absorbed at least one orb?”

He pointed a finger. “Don’t change the subject. And I know some stuff. I’ve been studying the categories and types of magic.” He gave a weak shrug, glancing away. “I just haven’t found a book about adventurers yet.”

Eury inhaled, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Alright.” After a moment, she gave him a quick rundown on how it worked.

“Adventurers can have up to five orbs,” she explained. “Each orb installs a framework that can hold up to four abilities.” He nodded; the last part lined up with what Charles told him.

“The framework activates the first ability when it’s installed. You also get one passive ability with each orb. Both are up to chance if it’s good, bad, or indifferent.” She shrugged. “That’s twenty magic abilities and five passives, in case Dirt doesn’t have math either.”

Dylan frowned. “We have math. I’m actually pretty good at it. So, skill books let you unlock even more magic abilities?”

Eury clicked her tongue. “Yes.”

He didn’t see the problem. “Then why are skill books bad? Are they expensive or—”

She leaned in closer. “They’re priceless…”

Now only a few inches from the poised elf, he caught a faint scent of spearmint. He squinted at her and took a gamble. “Like Time orb priceless?”

She distanced herself with a half step. “You should be more careful. You talk about restricted items and magic so casually.”

“Sorry, I just don’t understand—why are they restricted?” He saw the reluctance in her eyes give way to pity.

With a deep breath, she checked the room again before she said, “Skill books are made from the souls of adventurers.”

He recoiled, grimacing. “You make books out of dead adventurers?”

“No…” she whispered, shaking her head. “Not dead.” Her gaze darkened as she spoke slowly. “Skill books… are adventurers.

Dylan’s mind reeled. ‘What the fuck?’