Someone once defined insanity as, ‘doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result’. If that were true then at this point I deserved to be thrown in the highest security asylum ever created. Everyday for the last two years I had come outside to the garden and tried to chop a piece of wood. Every day. I had the arm strength of Atlas and the damn piece of wood kept repairing itself. Today Prudence watched me, offering encouragement. Today was different. Perhaps it was the sky or the fact that the roses were in bloom- wait I know! It was my livid rage at an inanimate object. I’d been pissed off before, but never quite like this. And the smug piece of wood was to blame.

I didn’t even have time to process if the amount of hate I held towards it was even rational. I raised the axe above my head and brought it down. Hard. I would chop that piece of wood if it was the last thing I did. And I didn’t stop at the wood. Oh no. I sliced the very stump it sat on in half. The axe stopped moving when it was buried in the dirt. My arms shaking I stared at the piece of wood. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe as I waited. And waited. ‘Is this it?’ I thought. Was this the day that- “GODS BE DAMNED!” I shouted as it reformed. Prudence raised an eyebrow at me. “Yes, I know, five coins in the bad word jar and three laps around the village- why do you still have me doing this?!” I asked.

“I wanted you to build muscle. And I wanted that piece of wood chopped. All these years I assumed it was just me… I suppose no one will chop it.” Prudence said with a heavy sigh. “How ever will I build that cozy winter’s fire now?” She asked.

I drop the axe and repress my anger into a tight tone of voice as I reply, “Gee, Prudence, maybe you could’ve chopped down a different tree? Or used the log as a WHOLE?!”

“Oh. That’s true. At any rate, I have a different task for you today.” I couldn’t believe it. Two years of work for her to end it with one sentence. I picked up the axe and promptly snapped it in half. “I would like for you to go and register at the Adventurer’s Guild today.”

“Is this going to end with me signing my name with a pen whose ink always vanishes after I write?”

“Heavens no! I do intend for you to earn money somehow. Registering with the Adventurer's Guild will put your name on the list of registered adventurers who do any array of jobs to earn money.”

“I’m only twelve.” I say. Well, physically anyway.

“I know. Your age will be registered and they’ll assign any jobs that seem appropriate to you. Once you’re done there, stop by Mrs. Germanotta’s store.”

“More clothes or meat?” I ask. Prudence gives me a knowing smile and shakes her head. “You’ll see.”

As I set out from home I wondered what sort of help someone needed from a twelve year old. ‘Probably just some small jobs like a fence painting.’ I thought. I shivered at the prospect of someone asking me to come chop wood for them. That could only go poorly. It was a pretty day outside. The sun was high, the skies were clear, and the main road wasn’t terribly busy. It was too peaceful. Call it pessimism if you want, I was suspicious of anything too calm.

“Surprise!” A voice said. It’s weird how people think it’s still a surprise when they announce it. Kind of like saying ‘Rain’ as a rain storm starts. At any rate, the small boy who tries to tackle my is greeted by a me reversing him so that his right arm is pinned behind his back and his face is in the dirt. “Let me go you freak!” He exclaims. While it’s suddenly very tempting to do the exact opposite, I release him. He gets to his feet in a hurry and stays about two arm lengths away from me. What would Prudence want me to say in this situation? “Sorry. I guess.” I mutter the second part under my breath.

“Whatever. Everyone knows you live with that witch in the tavern!” He said. I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong about Prudence’s affinity for magic. And it wasn’t like she needed me defending her honor. I step around the boy and head for the guild. “Weird boy.” He says before running off into the woods again. I grind my teeth at the mention of being a boy. I’d been growing my hair out since I met Prudence. It nearly reached my lower back now and I had to keep some of it in a braid. How many people who weren’t women kept their hair in braids?

I reach the local Adventurer’s Guild HQ with about thirty more minutes of travel. It’s not a building as one would expect it to be. It’s more of a kiosk in the middle of the road with a bored attendant sitting under the cover. He looks down at me as I approach and yawns. “No we do not sell candy, no there is no one by the name of Ike C. Veiner here, no we do not sell candy, no you can not borrow my sword, and no I haven’t seen any dragons around here.” He drones off monotonously.

‘I guess they don’t have candy.’ I think. “I’m actually here to register for the Adventurer’s Guild.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks at me again. “How old are you, boy? Ten? Eleven?”

“Twelve. And I am a girl.” I say between clenched teeth.

“Fantastic. You’re a twelve year old girl who wants to register as an adventurer. You’ll be about as useful to the guild as a broken pot.” Was he implying that an unbroken pot was useful to a bunch of adventurers?

“Are you gonna register me as an Adventurer or do I have to go see someone else?” I ask. He weighs it and takes out a slip of paper. “Name?”

“Nelia.”

“Full name.” He says. Crap. Prudence hadn’t given me a last name.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Blackwall. Nelia Blackwall.”

“Alright. Age and birthday?”

“I just told you I was twelve.”

“You’re pretty sassy for a twelve year old. When’s your birthday?”

‘Hell if I know.’ The months here weren’t individual. They were three months compacted into one season with over ninety days in each season. Figuring out what specific date my actual birthday fell in would’ve been like playing ‘Where’s Waldo’ in a peppermint factory.

“Just mark a random date down.” I replied.

“Whatever. Looks like you were born on the fifty seventh, Winter Harvest.” He says. I frowned. It was considered to be one of the unluckiest days of the year due to a high number of snowstorms, wolf attacks, uprisings, and crop failure. The worst one had been around thirteen years ago when rabid wolves attacked an uprising of unhappy farmers who had suffered massive crop failure in the middle of a blizzard. But my ‘birthday’ was out of my control now.

“Are you magically talented or registered in the Mage Guild?” I have to resist the urge to burst out in sad laughter. I had failed miserably at every kind of magic Prudence had attempted to teach me. Every kind except Enhancement. Ask me to set a fire and you’d end up with a burnt down forest. Ask me to enhance my speed- the only thing I could enhance- and even a cheetah on steroids with a full bladder would be able to outrun me. “No.” I answer.

“Alright. You’re set. Sign here.” He plops down the largest pile of papers I’ve ever seen in my new- and previous- life. “What this is for, kid, is saying that the Adventurer’s Guild isn’t responsible for any injury or crimes you happen to inflict. We are also unaccountable for any hexes, curses, illnesses, afflictions, parasites, haunted weapons and or properties, enraged dragons, Elder Demons, Elder Elder Demons, Gods, Angels, Valkyries, Werewolves, Vampires, or possessed sheep that you happen to cross.”

“Are you responsible for any possessed rabbits I come across?”

“You laugh but have you ever seen a possessed rabbit?” He asks as a haunted look comes into his eyes. “I’ve lost three friends to possessed rabbits.” He says with a slump to his shoulders. “Sometimes… I can still hear their screams of agony as Mister Fluffy attacked…”

“Wow. I’m sorry-”

“Anyway, sign here and move on.” He says, unfolding the pile to a dotted line.

“Will I ever be able to quit the Guild?” I ask.

“Sure but your soul belongs to us.”

“What?!”

“That’s just in the case of Reapers getting involved without proper paperwork. We’ve got a fantastic Soul Legal Defense team.” He says.

“Do...do I have to sign in blood or something?” I ask. He wrinkles his nose.

“D’you think we’re uncivilized? Write with ink.” He says as he passes me a quill and ink pot. I sign and head back to Vivid, knowing I’d have to ask Prudence about possessed rabbits some time.

Mrs. Germanotta was waiting for me with a box. “What is that?” I asked.

“Something Prudence requested I have made for you when the time came.” She slides the box towards me. I open it to see a something red and folded. When I touch the item, it… bristles? Tiny scales raise up-pricking my fingers- and settle quickly back into soft material. I drop it fearing it’s some possessed shirt that will end up burning down the village. “What is that?!” I exclaim.

“That is a shirt made out of dragon scales. The dragon it comes from was a red dragon, which will give you protection against fire. Prudence tells me you have a… knack for flames.”

While I’m not appreciative of Prudence divulging the fact that I’ve set air on fire to another human being the shirt draws me back. I lift it out to see it’s short sleeved with a kind of criss crossed ribbing all over it. It’s light in my hands now and seems to give off its own heat. “The scales have recognized you as their wearer. The shirt will work for no one else who wears it.” She says.

“You made this?” I ask a little awed and terrified that a shirt made of another creature’s skin now saw me as its new owner.

“Not without help from Prudence. You should thank her when next you see her. Oh, and do not worry about the size. The shirt will adjust to your body as you grow. Your other gift is rather straightforward.” She hands me a sword that comes up to my chin. It isn’t meant for a child, but I imagined it was something Prudence wanted me to get used to. It was a rather plain weapon. The grip was made of brown leather, and the blade was double edged with a pommel that was a solid metal loop. It was light to me and would work a one handed weapon.

“Thank you, Mrs. Germanotta.” I said. I meant it. These gifts were the nicest things I’d ever gotten.

“That’s all I needed to give you. You are free to head home now.” She said with a smile.

I left her shop with the strangest feeling in my chest. While it would be my luck to be having a heart attack, I felt 99% sure it was happiness. Not that happiness should feel like a heart attack but seeing as though I’d never experienced either it was an unusual feeling.