Even after two days, Ethan was still haunted by the vision he’d seen of Kentevaro, the previous Chosen of Flagras. Valanor had already explained that the man had been killed by another Chosen, but seeing it–experiencing it–was something altogether different. The vision had a level of intimacy that was beyond anything Ethan had known in the Deep Cell.

What he’d learned was just as disturbing. After Lathander had told him that the Chosen were divided in their role, he’d assumed that Kent had been killed for wanting to stop the rifts for the benefit of everyone. Everything he’d heard of the man suggested that he would choose the ‘good’ path, and Lathander had suggested that the rifts were a symptom of the three worlds colliding. Surely preventing that was ‘good’?

But the other Chosen, before they’d taken the prince’s life, had told Kent that he was wrong. That he was on the side that held the world back. Most bizarrely of all, the Chosen had claimed that the True Gods were being held back as well. Ethan couldn’t begin to guess what that meant, but resolved to find out.

He had thought his side in this conflict would be obvious. He had very personal reasons for hating the rifts, and the idea that anyone could be on the rift’s side seemed ludicrous. These revelations suggested that he didn’t have anywhere close to the amount of information he’d need to make an informed choice. More than that, he’d seen the swift death that came from choosing.

These thoughts plagued his mind as he once again began building a training routine with Tomo. He couldn’t bring himself to see Calevaro again–not yet–his own memories of the man were clashing with how Kent saw him, and it was too much. Although he knew he needed to return soon. Instead he focused on moving from the fundamentals of containing his Spirit, to weaponizing it.

“I don’t want to attack a tree,” he told Tomo, as he tried to get comfortable on the grass behind Valanor’s home.

The demon sighed audibly, a complete facade for a spectral being. “You will not harm the tree; you underestimate the strength of its Spirit, and this exercise is not meant to teach you to attack. We will be more than satisfied if you manage to command your Spirit at all.”

“Valanor wouldn’t want me attacking his tree,” Ethan grumbled. He liked trees. Regardless of what Tomo said, every time he’d seen his Spirit, it had looked like it was on fire, and he kept imagining himself burning down the shield knight’s backyard. In true old man fashion, Valanor even had a little garden nearby, and the shitstorm that would come from destroying it didn’t seem worth the risk.

Still, he trusted Tomo. “You must focus,” the demon admonished. “The goal of this training is to be able to manipulate your Spirit independently of your actions in the physical realm. Many, many steps later, you will move on to directing it to attack another Spirit in the Astral.”

“Understood,” Ethan said, turning serious as he considered the approaching duel. “Where do I start?”

“Your training on containing your Spirit was in many ways the opposite of this. Tell me what the experience was like for you.”

Ethan considered. It truly had been odd, and not what he’d expected. “As I understand it, my unrestrained Spirit would always have been lashing out at everything it could, like a wild animal.” Tomo nodded. “You prevented that–as all Spirit Familiars do. I wasn’t even really aware it was happening.”

“And after we unleashed it at the village, what then?” Tomo prompted.

Ethan thought back to that day, when he’d tried to duplicate Valanor’s trick in scaring away the bandits. Immediately his mind rebelled, overlaying the memory with images from the last time he was at the villages, and he shook his head violently to banish the thoughts.

Tomo was watching him with concern in his dark eyes, and Ethan made himself smile back. He took a few deep breaths then went back to it. “On that day, when you stopped holding it back…it was like a tensed muscle being relaxed. After that, I could always feel it. When it was time to start holding it back on my own, I just…tightened that muscle.”

The Familiar nodded in understanding. “It feels different to all, but your comparison is a common one. To follow your analogy, if containing your Spirit was like flexing a muscle in your arm, this will be akin to reaching out grasping something with that arm.”

Ethan nodded. “Something like controlling multiple muscles at once?”

“That and more. Tensing a muscle on its own is an arbitrary action. This is about adding intention to that action, and one external to yourself. Working with Prince Calevaro will train your Spirit to fight, disciplining your Spirit here will train it to fight with purpose.”

He sat for a moment considering those words, recalling how Calevaro had stood relaxed and unmoving as his own Spirit attacked the training dummy for a demonstration. Ethan could see numerous applications of that skill, provided he could master what his Spirit was supposed to be capable of.

“Okay, let’s do this,” he said, and Tomo moved next to him.

“Look into the Astral, and focus on the tree.”

Ethan did so, surprised by how easy it was to recognize a living energy pulsing through the oak. He let his eyes follow the paths of the tree’s ‘Spirit’, seeing it shift from its roots, to trunk, and finally out to branch and leaf.

“Now,” Tomo continued, “imagine yourself reaching out to place your hand against the tree. Feel the roughness of the bark in your mind, play out the actions as if you were physically taking them.”

Ethan complied, picturing the simple series of movements. Then he did it again. And again. Dozens of times, not seeing any effect. When the demon sensed his frustration, he smiled his predator’s smile. “This will take time, Ethan Bishop. This is not like using your abilities, the magic of this is not organized and prepared for you. This is purely an extension of your will, and nothing more.”

His words proved correct. Ethan spent the next two hours trying, and failing. Tomo would occasionally direct him to stand and perform the physical actions he was trying to replicate in order to get a better feel for them. Then Ethan would return to his place in the grass, to try again.

The closest he came in their first session was seeing a brief glow, almost as if his Spiritual reflection had begun to separate from him, then snapped back. Tomo claimed this was good progress, but Ethan felt frustrated. Still, he recognized the value of the training, and resolved to continue. There was no shred of power that he could afford to ignore.

***

Ethan and Valanor finally received an invitation to Selina’s house, announcing the return of the two Hunters. Savilar was already there, watching with an evaluative gaze as Cara filled one of the training dummies with a seemingly endless stream of arrows. Ethan had noticed the feat before, but it was still fascinating to see the quiver on her belt continually renewing itself.

Sav waved as he noticed the two men arriving, and they came to stand with him, leaning against a table covered in refreshments. Selina was apparently determined to cater whenever she had guests, and it made Ethan smile.

Valanor leaned toward his adoptive brother. “How do you measure her?”

“As an Archer? As good as any Dawn rank I’ve seen. Weapon specialists really come into their own at Dusk rank, however. All that ‘one with the blade’ stuff.”

“And as a Hunter? A potential teammate?”

Savilar sighed. “There’s no doubt she can Hunt. When I heard she was the one calling herself ‘Stalker’ in the tournament, that much became obvious. As part of a team, though? I don’t think she knows the meaning of the word.”

“Does she want to join the team?” Ethan asked, having yet to speak to Cara since the night at the bar.

“She’s open to it!” Selina said brightly, emerging from the back door of her home with the large, snow white rabbit on her heels. “This is Tibby, by the way,” she said with a proud smile. She came to the table and placed even more snacks on it.

“What do you mean she’s ‘open to it’?” Valanor asked.

“We had a lot of time to talk on our Hunt,” Selina emphasized the last word, as if going on a Hunt was still a surprise or a gift. “She’s–sorry Sav–neutral toward the Church. But she likes the idea of trying to make it to the Forgotten City. That said, she has a very strong sense of responsibility as a Hunter.”

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“As do we all,” Valanor said in his strong voice.

“Of course! But Cara thinks that too many Hunters are in it for themselves. They tend to focus on earning pay, and staying ‘comfortable’, as she puts it. What she really means is they mostly stay close to the capital. She’ll only join if we take Notices that help the border towns–at least occasionally.”

Savilar grunted. “That’s a…fair request, and a noble one. But my duties as a Rift Hunter are clear–my territory is the area close to the capital.”

“Sure, but you don’t need to be on every Hunt, right?” Ethan asked. “You certainly need less practice than the rest of us, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Valanor to take command occasionally on some longer Hunts. It’ll give Selina and I time to work on the fundamentals, and Cara time to work with a team.”

Savilar shrugged. “It makes my life easier, I suppose. Though if any rifts open nearby at Dusk rank, it would be better if you joined me.”

“Was that prudence I just heard come out of your mouth?” Valanor said.

Sav smacked him on the shoulder. “You’re the bloody hero, little brother. I just do my duty. And when I’m in a…more sound state of mind than I was last week, I admit when I’m in over my head.”

“Is that what you believe?” Valanor asked with mock surprise. “Senility takes the best of us,” he finished sadly, and Savilar barked a laugh. Ethan shook his head. Valanor making jokes still felt disturbingly wrong, somehow.

“Well then it’s settled, as far as I’m concerned,” the Rift Hunter said. “The Brightsouls are back…and two of us actually follow the Church. Goddess forgive me.”

Cara finally stopped shooting arrows as there was no space left on the dummy, then moved to join them. “I have no problems with the Goddess, priest. We just disagree on her will.”

Sav rolled his eyes. “First of all, I’m no priest, just a humble servant of the Goddess. Secondly, please, please don’t talk to me about your various, exotic beliefs. This team already borders on blasphemous merely by existing.”

“Then why are you willing to suffer us?” Cara said with narrowed eyes. Suddenly Ethan was extremely invested in the conversation. He was looking for ways to get more out of Sav regarding the Forgotten City without raising suspicion, and Cara bringing it up was perfect.

The Rift Hunter smiled. “I suffer many indignities in this life, fair lady. But some are easier than others. Placing in the Grand Tournament is a sacred duty for the Church that hasn’t been broken in almost two centuries. It’s also a hotspot for rifts, the closing of which is the purpose I’ve dedicated my life to.”

Cara shrugged, as if she’d never cared about the answer, then moved to get a drink. Ethan wouldn’t let the opportunity be lost, however. “What will we find in there, Sav? I’ve heard vague descriptions and promises of treasure, but for something that’s been around so long, there’s surprisingly little information.”

Savilar noticed he had the full attention of the assembled party, and shrugged. “I can weave you a tale, I suppose. As to why there isn’t much known about it, that’s a Hunter thing.”

“Hunter thing?” Selina asked while feeding Tibby.

“Treasure,” Valanor said with a sigh.

Savilar grinned. “Treasure,” he agreed. “Dimensional Bleeds offer unique opportunities to acquire items that don’t exist anywhere else on the planet. That alone makes them worthy of pursuit, but the Forgotten City is an unusual case.”

Ethan had begun puffing at his currently smokeless pipe. He kept meaning to try the smokescreen function, but there weren’t a lot of battles that started with him being able to take a smoke break. “How is the City unusual?” he asked.

“It’s massive, for one,” Savilar answered. “Calling it a city might actually be a bit generous, but it’s probably a quarter of the size of Corvale. But the more important factor is actually about the nature of Bleeds. Selina?”

The Nator looked surprised to be called on, but picked up the thread with ease. “Dimensional Bleeds are pieces of the other worlds that have somehow been brought to this one. When they’re from Terra they’re usually more…interesting than valuable, but anything intact from Potentia can be extraordinary. Or utterly worthless.”

“What decides which category it falls into?” Cara asked, still seeming slightly bored.

“Random chance, as far as we can tell,” Selina said with a shrug. “When people learn of Bleeds they tend to picture something novel and exciting–like a city. But as far as we can tell, the Bleed can come from anywhere on the planet.”

“Meaning…it could just be a chunk of rock or something?” Ethan asked.

“That’s more correct than you may think!” Selina said in her excited teacher’s tone. “Scholars actually theorize that there may be countless Bleeds we don’t know about or just don’t notice, simply because they’re so unremarkable. These mountains could be Bleeds for all we know.”

“Doubtful,” Savilar said. “The other thing about Bleeds is that they tend to come with rifts. Dangerous rifts, and often many of them.”

“That’s true, but I’ve sidetracked us,” Selina said. “We were talking about what makes the Forgotten City special, and it’s actually two things. Not only is it an actual intact location from an ancient Potentia civilization, but it’s not just any old place. It seems to have been some kind of vault, or armory!”

Even Cara seemed interested then. “Armory? Meaning weapons?” she asked.

Savilar answered. “Weapons, magical items, trinkets and charms. The Church keeps records of what we find there, and it’s been a trove. Keep in mind there’s been nearly two hundred years of looting, though. Only the central layers of the City haven’t been completely ransacked at this point.”

“Layers?” Ethan asked.

“For lack of a better term. Let me start from the beginning.” Savilar paused to gather his thoughts. “Well, there’s three doors we’ve found into the City, on three sides. Don’t forget it’s entirely built underground, and it hasn’t been possible to excavate the whole thing, so very little is certain.”

“In all this time, you haven’t finished digging the thing out?” Cara asked.

“Can’t. Magical defenses. Digging near the walls is treated like an attack–supposedly the teams that originally found the place lost a number of people just uncovering what we have. Anyway, three doors,” he said, trying to keep them on track.

“The doors are time-locked, and only open automatically once a year. Thus, the tournaments. No more than six people can enter each door before it seals behind them. It’s tied to the security of the place somehow, but the runes in that section are beyond anything we have today–no offense Selina.”

“None taken! That’s part of the reason I want to go; I plan to take recordings of the runes for study.” Ethan noticed that Savilar’s eye twitched at that, but it was gone in a heartbeat.

“People have tried,” he said. “Maybe you’ll have more luck. Anyway, when you get in, it’s more like an enormous building than a city, entirely made of this dark green stone. It’s divided into rooms and hallways, some big enough to be considered streets, I suppose.”

He moved to a clear patch of dirt in the yard and began sketching with a stick. First he drew a rough square, then started drawing out what looked like rooms and pathways. “Obviously we start in the outer layer, which isn’t particularly hostile. Most of the defenses have been destroyed by now. Second layer is where it gets interesting.”

He added another square inside the first. “Teams usually don’t manage to stay long; if you have bad luck, you’re fighting demons for every inch of ground you take in there. But those are just the demons that naturally make it through the open rifts. Second layer is where the defenses are still active, and things get rough.”

“Rougher than fighting for every inch of ground?” Selina asked.

“Yes,” Savilar replied, without a hint of his usual humor. “That’s where you start making yourself indispensable, Selina. There will be rune traps, false walls, and sealed doors. Still, that’s just the second layer.”

He started to sketch another square. It was like a maze…or a labyrinth. “How many layers are there?” Ethan asked.

The Rift Hunter sighed. “We think five? These days most teams will make it to the third. That tends to be where you can start finding store rooms, or treasures that monsters have managed to horde. Every few years though, a team will make it to the fourth layer.”

He drew another, smaller square. “Third isn’t much different from the second, except for the runes. They can be more complex, more esoteric. Some people turn back just because they can’t open a door. Fourth though…well we know there’s a fifth.”

Valanor spoke for the first time, his deep voice cutting to the point. “How?”

“Every other layer seems to have served some obvious purpose. The first had storage for mundane things, even some stables and what might have been kitchens. Second layer is living quarters. I saw an expensive bed in there, practically in one piece.”

He pointed at the third layer with his stick. “Whatever the true purpose of this place was, I think it started in the third layer. There’s places for rituals, complicated runes that have nothing to do with the defenses. Statues…Anyway, fourth layer is different. It appears to serve no purpose other than guarding the fifth layer.”

He drew a circle in the center. “It’s where the unsealed rifts are, and security is essentially untouched.” Everyone was quiet for a moment, looking at his crude diagram. Finally Ethan tried some questions.

“What does success for us look like?” he asked.

Savilar stood up from his drawing, considering. “Any group that gets to the third layer tends to leave with something. Search any of the sealed rooms and you’ll likely come up with some artifact or another. Even if it’s not directly useful to us, it’ll fetch considerable coin.”

Time for a riskier one, but Ethan needed to know. “And what does success look like to you? To the Church?”

Savilar’s eyes seemed to search Ethan’s, but he didn’t hesitate. “Not much different, really. Exploring the place is the high level objective, ideally going somewhere no one’s managed to enter before. The fourth layer would be the real victory, though. If I can close a rift, then I’ve brought future teams closer to the center.”

“Aren’t we supposed to reach the center?” Cara asked with a raised eyebrow.

Savilar laughed. “I like you, Archer, you have no sense of how ambitious you are. Never lose that.” She didn’t laugh with him, but he seemed unbothered. “If we’re the first group in two centuries that reaches the center, I’ll certainly take it. But it’s hardly expected. Like I said, fourth layer is already an achievement, and it’s only the hundreds of teams that have slowly chipped away at this place that makes that even a possibility.”

Ethan nodded, sensing he’d learned all he could for now. “Well then it’s time to get down to business. We have several months before the tournament ends, and a lot of points to make up. That means taking Notices, and Hunting monsters.” He paused, looking at each member of the group in turn.

“Let’s figure out what this team can do.”