In the coming days Myrn said little about what Ivan had brought up with her. She didn't seem to even want to mention it at all. And yet she didn't shy away from him.

Ivan had his own thoughts to consider of course, but for the most part they were both just keeping busy. Ivan had several patients to take care of, growing his reputation as a healer, and both advancing his skills and testing his remedies. Myrn wanted them ready for the Dungeon. Ivan also wanted into the Dungeon to advance as quickly as he could, and in particular to offer the harvested magic to Quixla.

Right now Myrn was fairly pleased with him or so Penelope told him. Her little cousin seemed to adore him as well. Tila was a sweet girl, bright, curious, and innocent as could be.

It was hard to slip away from the group as they went out and chased down more monsters, but it was fairly easy and quick to cast the ritual needed to offer up the blood filled conjured dagger. She even spoke to him this time when he found a moment to slip away.

“In order with our contract I offer up your dagger filled to the brim with the blood of my enemies that you, Quixla the Fallen Hunter, will show me your favor. Take this offering and taste of my foes as with your own fangs.” Ivan intoned, using the verbal ritual chant Quixla provided as he always did.

There was a small flash of red light, and usually the ritual circle would fade, but this time the circle remained open upon his floating scroll in the darkness of the forest. Ivan tried for a moment to close the scroll, but ceased when he felt another's will and mana keeping it projected.

Penelope sat upright from where she lay sprawled within the Shroud.

Ivan waited for a moment, unsure of what to do. There was a small clicking noise, like the touch of fang against carapace or something. Ivan bowed his head slightly as his Insight finally picked upon a tendril of sensation projected by the being within the circle.

“You...please me....Ivan...Son of Nathaniel...” Came a small hissing voice from within the glowing circle.

Ivan understood now thoughts he had earlier as his understanding of the occult ritual magic expanded. Of the functions Quixla's ritual circle provided there were a few he thought unused or excess to requirements. But in truth they were just options, and now he understood how Quixla could choose to speak to him at any time through the complex, but neat little ritual circle. The offering provided more than enough of a channel for her to spend a minute or two talking to him.

“Lady Quixla.” Ivan said in greeting, bowing his head again.

Quixla hissed, the sound of uncertain meaning to Ivan's ears, but she projected humor and fondness for his Insight to grab upon.

“It is I...who should call you Lord or Master. You flatter me...” She said, her voice a soft hiss interrupted by clicks Ivan couldn't properly source.

“Your weapon is a beautiful instrument. Thank you Quixla. The time we have to speak is short in many ways, but I will make sure you know now how pleased I am with your Blood Letting Dagger and its effects. I will continue to learn and work to conjure it properly in its full being. I swear this to you.” Ivan said, speaking quickly, and earnestly.

Quixla's emotional presence faltered and completely vanished for a moment, but then returned as a finger thin tendril of warm and squirmy fondness. Intuition told him that he had embarrassed her enough with his praise that she couldn't entirely hide it from him. The clarity of his understanding made Penelope grin where she lay.

“Yup. She's a softy. She's a minor demon having dealt out very few contacts too. You're a big deal for her so go easy on her.” Penelope commented, her voice and smile supportive and bright.

“Is there anything you need of me Quixla?” Ivan asked as the demon hesitated. “I will get it for you and offer it when I can. I will hurry, but I may take me time to steal away and contact you again.”

“No...Ivan...I wish to grant you a...blessing...” Quixla hissed. “You've pleased me very much. The blood you've given has fed me beyond what I could manage in decades in this place, and in accord with my bargain with Lady Penelope I wish to offer you yet another boon....Will you accept it?”

“Yes Quixla. Penelope has said I have some little talent in using your magic. I was planning on expanding my understanding in the future, but I will happily accept any gift of favor you offer.”

The pleased tendril seethed with happy, and embarrassed sensations.

“Please put your hand upon the circle then Ivan.”

Ivan did so without hesitating, only taking in a deep breath first, and readying himself.

In the nature of an ambush hunter she struck the moment he was in range, and her magic flew like tendrils of bloody webs up his arm, and under his sleeves. Ivan winced, but kept his hand on the circle. Through his study of the Spell School Demonology 1 he understood that gifts such as this could be painful, reformative, destructive, and otherwise strange. He didn't know exactly what to expect from Quixla's gift, but magic faded quickly.

He lowered his hand and felt a somewhat familiar minor stinging sensation of new magic running through him.

“I gift you something of my first Master, the master I devoured.” Quixla whispered, her tendril presence of emotion shrank and quivered as she spoke, but she didn't falter in her speech like before.

“In my conquest of him and my world I gained many talents and fought many battles. Through his blood magic I learned to heal myself as I fought, and it's this talent I now give to you. Use it, and drink of the stored offering within my dagger with it at need to keep yourself alive my dearest and kindly new Lord and Partner. Live, succeed, and fight. Then I might offer more in return for bounty you continue to bring me.” She hissed, projecting honest fondness once again, and a sensation of righteous hunger.

The circle flickered then, and the scroll faded and then finally vanished.

Ivan touched his arm gently where his flesh still stung, but brought up another scroll. Upon this he began the ritual of conjuring for Quixla's dagger. It did not drain him so much as before, but this time certainly took more of his mana to bring the blade about.

The increased cost was reflected in what appeared in the air before the circle. He caught the heavy bladed fighting knife before it fell, and turned it over in his hands. It was the same oddly crystalline blood red metal in design, but made larger, and its blade was in a shape much closer to that of a fang. Ivan felt the soft silken cloth about its hilt and knew he had managed to conjure some of Quixla's own silk to cover the handle. The sturdy material gave an equally secure and soft grip that wouldn't slip in his hands. The material itself seemed dry enough to soak in any amount of blood that fell upon it, and as he held it in his hand he felt its terrible hunger and Quixla's twisted anger for her former master.

“Consider healing yourself with that dagger as you might feeding in the manner of an Incubus dear Master.” Penelope commented gently.

She was laying on her back with her eyes closed near Azalea. The Pathfinder was reading books Penelope somehow conjured out of Ivan's head using her own highly advanced Scribe Job.

“Aren't..well...” Ivan hesitated having to push aside the hunger to feed the blade as he tucked it away and stood. He checked his surroundings and went back in the direction of the team back toward the road.

“Aren't Vampires undead?” Ivan asked quietly.

“Well yeah, but just because you heal yourself with Blood Magic doesn't make you a vampire.” Penelope replied dryly.

“It's just another source of corruption to be aware of. It might help or hurt you. So use it sparingly until we know how it will affect you. I have a feeling you have a talent for it. You know, since you've already picked up on Quixla's perception power, Web of Deceit, just by coming in contact with her. Which sort of makes sense if I think about your lineage.”

“What do you mean?” Ivan asked in a whisper, he was getting close to the group now.

“Your father. Your tribe really. You're missing the proper rites and rituals, but they didn't call Nathaniel the Hound Master for nothing. There's living Hell Beasts, spirits of sorts, and I realize there's many creatures to your mind that might bear the name, but they are Hell Hounds in truth.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Isaac where you been?” Andy called from where he held up a torch.

“I was taking a shit.” Ivan complained as he came out of the bush.

Marvin slapped his open palm into his face.

“You couldn't wait until we got back? See how dark it is now?” Andy complained in return.

“I had to go!” Ivan complained loudly. “All that running and Meeda's greasy food got to me!”

“Do you mean to speak of the ancient hunting packs? They are the bestial equivalents to the Pathfinders in some ways Lady Penelope. I was told by the Elders that if I see them I should show them respect and consider them allies.” Azalea asked, and explained.

Penelope nodded, her face holding a small smirk likely for Ivan's rude excuse for sneaking off in the dark.

“Yes, little lamb. Call them the Wild Hunt, call them Hell Hounds, or the Wolves of the Underworld. Either way they knew Ivan's tribe. They worked with them. They allowed themselves to be summoned, and acted in a way that is pretty akin to what you're doing now actually. Their presence as hunting hounds probably gave them all sorts of Job levels, and kept the humans of that world from becoming completely corrupted living demon kind.” Penelope answered.

Without hesitation Ivan hefted the bundled up quarter of meat harvested from their very latest hunt and stowed it in the Shroud. Ivan forgot what this creature was called, and cast his gaze over what remained of its corpse now at his feet.

“What was this thing again? A Torgax?” Ivan asked.

“Taurgrax.” Marvin corrected.

“Isn't it just a Minotaur then?” Ivan asked.

“Sort of like a cousin species I guess. Minotaur's are bipedal though. This thing was on four legs remember?” Andy replied with a bit of teasing laughter in his voice.

Ivan blinked down at the bloody remains of the creature.

“What about the Grax part of its name?” Ivan asked.

“The axe horns man!” Andy complained as he tied up another quarter of meat and bone. He turned it about until the very horns he spoke were shown tied flat against the cuts of meat.

“Can't you just Scholar magic all these questions away? What's with you all of a sudden?”

“Well I want to figure out what's known by others around me before verifying. That way I can correct you if you're wrong and we can both learn.” Ivan said, his voice sweet and innocent.

Andy groaned, and Marvin chuckled. Myrn appeared on the path ahead then, fists on her hips, and a torch lit in her hands.

“I told you we should get going before dark. These trees don't like torches this time of year, but now you've forced my hand!” She complained.

“Sorry Myrn.” All the men of the party said at once.

Myrn looked at them all suspiciously, staring at each of them until they met her eyes.

“Who slacked off this time?” She almost growled.

Ivan raised a guilty hand.

“I snuck off to poop.” He admitted lamely.

Myrn closed her eyes tightly around an expression split between disgust and humor.

“Well thank you for fertilizing the forest I suppose.” She said dryly.

Marvin chuckled as Ivan carefully stepped around the others to join Myrn.

She eyed him, but leaned fondly into his shoulder after a moment.

Ivan's heart still raced around her. It would be worse later when she gave him 'the look' when they got back to the inn. She would have her single flagon of ale when they got back, like usual of late, and they would eat a late dinner. Davian would play some music, and they would dance and sing a little. Then it would be time to go upstairs and that meant...well Ivan's cheeks heated, and Myrn saw him blushing.

She grinned at him playfully, guessing at just what he was thinking, as clearly as she was drawing her arms in to press her breasts together for him to see through her loosely tied blouse. Ivan tore his eyes away and forced his thoughts onto other matters.

The meat would go to Meeda's kitchen and serve all manner of patrons. Ivan had never thought to eat so much monster meat in his life, but it seemed the norm for adventurer's. Kids with no more than a single basic Job struggled digesting the stuff and sometimes got sick, but for the group it was fine, preferred even. Penelope had tried to explain something about regular and magical 'Calagories' or something like that, but Ivan struggled to understand. He couldn't access anything about them in the Infinite Library through his Basic Information skill either which sort of just meant he wasn't powerful enough to draw the information from where it was stored. It didn't mean she was wrong, but it didn't seem that important.

Ivan had enjoyed the past few days. He really had. All but the talk with Myrn had gone well. He had a place to stay, and good food. They were testing themselves everyday and even at night as one or another of them taught each other or invented a new dance to match Davian's fast paced music. Had he found peace with this new way of life? Ivan couldn't decide on a word for himself, but as much as part of him told him to move and be away, a part of him just wanted to keep things as they were.

Ivan enjoyed Myrn's company, and that of her aunt and uncle, and not to mention her little cousin Tila was a delight. Ivan knew the child had something of a girlhood crush on him, an effect of being her cousin's mysterious lover as much as the passive effect of his Charisma Attribute, but he entertained the girl with praise all the same. Since staying there and meeting the energetic girl again he had tasked her with making a book report to him each day. In return he was buying her whatever books she wanted from the market shops as long as she kept reading.

The girl's enthusiasm for learning and gap-toothed smile made him think of little Ral and Jen, but that mostly made the moments bittersweet and all the more precious. Thinking of them now though brought pain and intense anger to Ivan's mind. -Anger that Ivan now suspected wasn't solely his own. Yet still he missed his young squires. The two had been as close as friends could be, supportive of each other and always side by side like Tanya and him had always been. Jen's little face appeared in his mind as though he were looking right at her then, and he closed his eyes to better remember the girl who was something between a younger sister and daughter to him.

She had just beaten Ral three times in a row in their sparring matches. She was so proud after Ral had teased her maybe a little too much, and came to Ivan for some extra lessons. The girl had spirit, and properly motivated she had really given Ral a beating that day. Ral was a tough kid though, and had probably meant to pull his punches before he realized Jen meant to beat him into the dirt. Even beaten up and bruised, Ral would still be smiling, and no doubt still teased Jen later that day. But Jen knew she could beat him then, and would have just raised her chin at his jests instead of taking them to heart.

Ivan shook his head trying to pull himself from his memories.

“What's wrong?” Myrn asked.

“I was thinking of my squires...” Ivan whispered. “I miss them.”

Myrn's face twisted and she looked down at her feet for a few moments. Her thoughts were more than likely swirling about her own memories of her little brother. Ivan would have been glad to train him if he was anything like Myrn or her little cousin Tila.

Myrn's hand found his own and they held on to each tightly. Ivan tried to contain himself, but a few tears leaked from his eyes anyway and he had to wipe at them. The other three were getting up and looking ready to head out.

“You okay Isaac?” Davian asked, his face concerned.

It seemed like his sharp senses had picked up on something and it took him a moment to locate the source. He almost seemed startled when he saw the source of what he sensed was Ivan.

“-Fine.” Ivan said, but too softly to be convincing.

Davian's expression softened, but Andy spoke before he could.

“Want to talk about it yet?” Andy asked as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Marvin gave him a sharp look, but Andy raised a big hand to forestall him.

“About what?” Ivan asked.

“The weight you've been carrying around?” Andy asked, his expression nothing but friendly. “I won't pry, but it's dragging on you. You're with friends now bud. The war has calmed. I don't know what the days ahead will bring, but we're a team now. We'll face them together.”

Ivan stared at Andy for a few moments, lost again in memory. Voices echoed in his mind.

“Come on Jen! You go that way, I'll go this way, we'll face him together and he won't stand a chance!” Ral barked.

Jen rushed off to Ivan's left and Ral stepped right before rushing in with an only slightly spoiled feint. Both were wearing practice mail and padding, and all three of them had blunted sparing swords in hand.

Ivan parried Ral's blade and then shoulder checked the off balance little guy in a move that both acted as both dodge and attack as Jen ran at Ivan's flank. He turned and met with Jen's blade a number of times. The girl was focused on her stances, and was an expert at using their various forms to strike at her foes after Ivan's extra training with her.

She did so well that Ivan was forced to use his greater strength and his own Warrior Job stances to keep her in check. Meanwhile Ral regained his feet and charged at his back.

Ivan was forced to use his own martial abilities to beat Jen back, and turn on Ral. Ral Ivan kicked and tripped, but his attempt to take Ral out of the fight was stopped by Jen as she flew into Ivan's side.

Ivan stumbled and Jen kept attacking, her little voice projected into as much of a battle roar as she could manage within her helmet. Ivan took blows to his wrists as her blunt blade flashed for whatever flesh she could find, seeking to slow him down more than wound him and score harder hits.

Ral rolled away and got to his feet with the quickness of a nimble child, and was practically sprinting when he rejoined the fray, his own battle cry raised. The two overwhelmed Ivan in moments, their blunted blade finding his shins, ribs, and arms until he fell onto his back dramatically, blunt sword skittering across the courtyard, defeated.

The two cheered, taking up each other's hands, and began singing a little victory tune.

Ivan tried to speak as the memory rolled over him, but he couldn't. He tried to shake himself out of the memory, but failed. All he could see in his mind's eye was Ral and Jen's sweaty, smiling faces as they lifted their helmet visors and sang out a mocking little victory song arm in arm. It was the first time they had beaten him together.

“I...” Ivan began, but stopped.

“You can't tell them the truth about who you are. Not yet Ivan.” Penelope whispered, obviously sensing his desire to share his memories of his precious squires with more than just a short whisper in Myrn's ear.

Doing so would reveal his Knight Job, a fact still hidden from all but Myrn, and likely his name. Andy might put together his name and ability then too, and Marvin much the same.

Myrn bumped his shoulder gently, encouraging him, but even then as he glanced at her he knew she understood his pain.

“Thank you Andy. But it's still a little too soon, and the wounds too close to my heart...I lost a lot of people.” Ivan admitted, hanging his head, and openly showing his shame as much as his tentative appreciation of the offer.

Andy nodded soberly.

“We're here for you bud. Remember that.” Andy said with one of his usual big smiles before getting up and lifting his quarter of meat like it was a spare pillow.

He then yawned with no attempt to cut it short, and then farted loudly enough to scare birds from their rest in the trees. Davian, who was behind him some little ways, staggered to get out of the unseen gas cloud as Marvin covered his face with both hands and let out an explosive sigh of disgust and disappointment.

Andy grinned, his noble graces properly ruined, and beamed at Myrn and Ivan as he came to their side and passed them to find the road.

Myrn closed her eyes and tried to keep herself from smiling, but failed eventually and laid her head into Ivan's shoulder.