The silence in the graveyard when Hunter returned greeted him like an old friend. The moon hung high, revealing Nic's handiwork around the grounds with his mattock.

Hunter's jaw dropped open.

The gaping hole left by the collapse of his network of traps and holding pens for the rats had completely disappeared. How the big man had worked so fast was a mystery, but Hunter had no time to survey the grounds to find out how. He looked to the simple two-story stone building that had been home for the past twelve years.

A wave of sadness washed over him.

Dim lights from Nic's upstairs window told Hunter he was still awake. Either that or he'd fallen asleep cradling a bottle of his homebrew. The big man never talked about his past or what brought him to Death Island. Hunter sensed that Nic battled demons akin to his own, but his had had more time to fester and grow strong.

Hunter knew what Nic had been up to as soon as he entered the living quarters on the ground level. The small lodge reeked of alcohol. A trail of water drops lingered with each step, the hem of his pants wet from the receding tide. Going upstairs, the stench grew stronger as he passed Nic’s door.

Normally, Hunter would skulk off to bed, relieved Nic hadn't caught him sneaking back to his room. But tonight was different. He tip-toed past the door to check on his rat crew in his room, but he would return to Nic as soon as he was done.

The rats greeted him with glossy black eyes and quivering whiskers as he raised the blanket. The feeder was empty, and they had full little bellies as they scampered about.

"Thanks, buddies." He gave each one a gentle pat and carried them back to the open window. "You best go before Nic catches wind of you." He gestured back to his feeder. "I have to go away for a little while, but I promise I will come back. Look out for each other, stay in the burrows by the edge of the cemetery. I’ll hide these feeders loaded with jerky for you. You know the trick to release the food."

Their little furry heads bobbed up and down.

One by one, they scurried off, and Hunter closed the window. He grabbed all his stores of fish jerky and winter plum berries from the shelf above his tinkerer’s table. Loading every feeder he had, he stowed them in his ring to deposit near the burrows before he left the cemetery.

Hunter left his room and returned to stand outside Nic's room once more. He gave the door a gentle rap.

No answer.

He noticed it was ajar, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Nic?"

Again, there was no answer.

Before the stillness choked him like a snake vine, he pushed the door open, stepping back in case someone rushed at him. Hunter's shoulders sagged as soon as he ventured inside.

Nic sat draped over his desk, passed out drunk, snoring like an ox.

In his hand, he held the scroll Dimus had given him earlier that evening.

Hunter crossed the room with light steps, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that would give his presence away.

Gently, he lifted the scroll from Nic's hand, his curiosity rising. While Dimus was one of the few regular visitors to the cemetery, he never brought paperwork to Nic. The affairs of the cemetery maintenance and names of the dead were usually discussed during Nic's weekly visits to the magistratus' office.

Hunter's eyes widened as soon as he turned the scroll around and noticed the broken seal.

Gorgon Stheno, the shield of House Filo.

A loud snort came from Nic, and he muttered curses in his now fitful sleep.

Hunter took a step back and unfurled the scroll. His heart sank.

It was completely blank.

He turned it over and over, looking for any telltale inscription that might unlock its secrets, but there was none. If only Jocasta were there. She was a master of scripts by now, a skill Hunter sadly lacked. He had the basics he’d learned in school before he came to Death Island, but that was it.

Rolling up the scroll, he gingerly tried to place it back in Nic's half-clenched fist.

Nic's eye snapped open.

What came next happened in a blur. Hunter found himself winded on the flat of his back, with Big Nic looming over him and a blade at his throat.

"By the gods, Hunter, never sneak up on me like that when I'm sleeping."

Sleeping huh?

Hunter glanced at the empty bottle tipped on its side.

Nic narrowed his eyes and followed Hunter's gaze before growling. "You had to go looking for more trouble didn’t you? And now you nearly got yourself killed."

He stepped back and helped Hunter to his feet.

Hunter couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm sorry, Nic, but I had a plan to set everything right at the Trial of Worth."

"You went chasing after dragons, after I warned there's no use in that." Then a glimmer of hope set in his eyes. "You made it to the Trial of Worth, how'd it go?"

"I passed the first two, but the third…"

Nic shook his head and gave him an 'I told you so,' look.

Hunter sulked. "No use in being stuck here either. You want me to trust and be honest with you, but you never tell me anything—why you're here, why you hate the broken system, and you don't care who knows it. And then I come back and find the cemetery miraculously restored. Don't tell me one man and a mattock can do that in a matter of hours and still have time to wallow in misery and get blind drunk."

"What I tell you or not is for your own good." His gaze shifted to the scroll Dimus gave him, and color drained from his rosy cheeks. He snatched it up, and it disappeared in a blur. "No one likes a snoop. Now go back to your room. That asshole Dimus wants to see you in his office at first light."

Hunter pressed his lips together and rubbed his neck. "About that, I don't think he'll make it on time. I saw him outside the Tangled Mermaid Tavern with some lady companions."

"He won't stay there long; his wife will wear his guts as garters if he doesn't return tonight."

Hunter laughed. "Yeah, just seeing her face would sober anyone up."

Nic placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder, keeping a serious expression. "Listen to me, lad. I'll be honest with you. I already knew you skipped off to the mainland; your rats are no good at covering for you."

"You did, then why let me explain?"

He shrugged. "I thought you would mention the tower that appeared, the one that you’ve always mentioned since you were a wee pup."

"You can see it from here?"

"I ate plenty of carrots in my youth; I still have great eyesight."

Hunter frowned. "Even when you're blind drunk."

Nic laughed. "Even then…" his grin faded. "Look, I know it's been hard for you, lad. Your uncle is not the protector people think he is. So many citizens of Delphare wear blinders when it comes to him. It helps them sleep better at night. But not me."

Hunter didn't like to talk about his past, but he wanted Nic to understand the choices he needed to make. This was the first time he’d heard Nic say anything good or bad about his uncle. It was clear Nic didn’t trust his uncle unlike many citizens in Delphare. Perhaps it had something to do with the scroll from Dimus bearing the Filo shield, but either way, it was time he opened up further about his family.

"Speaking of my uncle. He sent my sister Jo to work for that scum villain Xuthos.” Hunter took in a deep breath. “I saw her for the first time tonight.”

Nic’s expression remained unchanged but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“She's safe for now.” Hunter continued, his chest tightening. “But she won't be for long. The arrival of that tower on the outskirts of our city has given me an opportunity to grow stronger that I can’t ignore. I’ll return once I’m strong and rich enough to buy her freedom. You know very well that will never happen here on Death Island, no matter how long I stay. I can’t live on rations, and I’m so poor I couldn't buy a bucket of steam."

Nic crossed his arms. "So you're saying you are going to risk everything to go inside that tower. How do you even know if you can get inside and back out again? The legends of ascension towers tell of the many warriors who entered and the few that returned. You have yet to cultivate; how would a Pre-Refiner survive in there?"

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"I have an invitation of sorts. I wish I could tell you everything, but I'm sworn to secrecy. I know the risks, and I'm willing to take them. This will be the only way I can protect those I care about."

Nic sighed. "You make a sound argument for your apparent recklessness. Something I can support. When given a unique opportunity, take it; otherwise, you have to live the rest of your life with regret." His tone sombered, filled with a sense of remorse. "Leave Dimus to me; I will deal with his outburst in the morning. But I'll have to get creative as to where you've gone."

Hunter took his mother's chi cultivation medallion from his inventory. "I meant to show you this after I passed the Trial of Worth."

Eyes widened, Nic leaned in closer to inspect the medallion. "It was your mother's?"

Hunter looked at the ground. "Yes. Please don't ask how I came across it, and don't believe my Uncle Eratos if he tells you I stole it from the family treasury."

"That's your business, lad; I won't pry. But if you'd only told me you had it..."

"No.” Hunter’s chin dipped as he blocked the rising shame. “I couldn’t tell you before I passed the Trial of Worth. I was afraid someone would find out I had the medallion, or more concerning than that, word would get back to my uncle. As my sworn guardian until I turn twenty-one, there’s nothing I could do to stop my uncle from reclaiming the medallion in the name of House Filo.”

Nic wore a hurt look in his eyes, deepening his grim expression. "After all these years in my care, you didn't trust me to keep it a secret?"

"It's not that. I trust you; I don’t trust Dimus. He has eyes and ears everywhere on this island. You're answerable to him. And I didn't want to burden you."

Nic patted Hunter’s shoulder. "Have you learned nothing, lad? You were never a burden…" then he straightened and scowled, "but you're a right stubborn foal. I'm glad you told me because now we have a means to turn your forty years of servitude into a more favorable contract."

Hunter's pulse raced. "We do?"

"Yes, now that everyone knows you have a descendant chi cultivation medallion, you have the choice to cultivate in a school once you are offered a place."

"Failing the Trial of Worth means I don't have a cultivation academy interested in accepting me. But I don’t need one now; I'm going to the tower…"

Nic dismissed him. "Yes, I know, but in order to give you the freedom to come and go without Dimus hassling you, I can submit forms so you can elect to become a roaming cultivator under my mentorship."

Nic rummaged in his desk drawer and pulled out a weathered scroll.

"What's that?"

"My credentials as an elder member of the Roaming Cultivators Guild. Excuse me for not explaining everything right now.” Nic placed the scroll on the desk before continuing. “At first light, I'll arrive at Dimus' office to remind him of my status. I prefer to keep things low-key, as you know. Just this once, I'll throw my weight around and make sure he understands that you will still work with me, and I will train you in my own time. The major difference is you will have your own exit and healing tokens and be free to move between this island and the mainland."

"Nic, I don't know what to say… I—"

Nic cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't ruin it by saying anything, lad. You're a hard worker, and you've got heart, even after you were dealt a shitty hand. I never told you that, thinking you'd go soft on me, but I can see you're made of stronger stuff than that. So you better get in there, train hard, and come back strong enough to kick my ass."

Hunter laughed at that, but he couldn't help noticing Nic's eyes misting over.

His throat tightened as he said goodbye.

He turned and left, unable to look back, knowing Nic was watching him all the way to the cemetery gates. He took a moment to set the feeders down for the rats and then leapt the gate, making his way back to the mainland.

…

Delphare’s city streets had turned eerily silent as Hunter moved along them. His footsteps echoed off the cobblestones as he made his way past the arena and toward the imposing boundary wall.

Thoughts of the earlier warnings from street vendors about the curfew Eratos imposed, rang in his mind. He halted, pressing against the wall of a merchant's store, seeking a clearer view of the gate that restricted access through the boundary wall. Unlike before, it was now tightly closed and secured with chains. Oddly, there were no guards in sight.

Hunter scanned his surroundings; in fact no one was in sight.

With a surge of determination, he sprinted for the gate; it seemed easier to scale its iron rods than the formidable stone wall. He barely gripped the first rod when a force slammed into him from behind, sending him crashing to his knees.

Rough hands seized his shoulders and yanked him away from the wall, spinning him around to face his attacker. Hunter struggled to break free, his gaze meeting the fierce eyes of Pheres.

"It's past curfew, you sneaky whelp," Pheres snarled, alcohol evident on his breath. "Always thinking you're better than everyone, that the rules don't apply to you." His open hand collided with Hunter's face, the sharp impact sending searing pain through his cheek and lips.

Blood trickled down Hunter's chin, the metallic taste filling his mouth. He wiped it away defiantly, a bloody grin curving his lips. "I was just taking a stroll."

Pheres’ laughter was a cruel echo in the night. He struck Hunter again, but this time Hunter managed to block the blow, holding back the attack until Pheres used his brute strength to knock his hand away.

With a swift move, Pheres pinned Hunter's hand forcing him to the ground and pointed a menacing finger at him. "I know what you're doing, you sneaky bastard. You dared enter my family residence to visit your sister without permission. I was going to call the guards on you, but then you mentioned entering that cursed tower, and I knew I needed to catch you in the act."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That tower is dangerous!" Spittle flew like venom from Pheres’ mouth as he poured out his hate-fueled rant. "It was summoned by death cultists using Dark plasma. It cannot be controlled, and those who try will either die or turn into hideous demons. We have enough to deal with in this city. I will not let you strengthen the tower by sacrificing yourself to it when you enter."

"They're all legends and rumors, surely you know that?" Hunter began to speak of the tower's true origin but stopped himself just in time.

Pheres’ face contorted with rage. "You can spread all the lies you want, but we are going to find a way to destroy that tower. You are not going anywhere near it."

Pheres yanked some rope bindings from his storage ring and swiftly secured Hunter's hands together. At least a chi cultivation stage apart, Hunter’s attempts at kicking Pheres proved as useless as hitting a boulder.

With a cruel grip on Hunter's hair, he hauled him toward the boundary wall. His free hand reached up, plucking a spirit lamp from the iron holder hanging above them. Pheres donned a malicious smile, raising Hunter's bound hands and hooking them securely over the iron holder.

"Don't get any funny ideas. I'll be back with those hoplite guards,"

As Pheres vanished into the darkness, leaving Hunter alone once more, time stretched into an eternal agony. Hunter struggled against the bindings, desperation mounting as his leaps failed to provide enough height to slip over the holder.

As the sky gradually lightened into a navy haze, he begrudgingly admitted that a different strategy was needed if he was going to escape before Pheres returned. Desperation clawed at him at the approaching dawn. He checked his inventory repeatedly, hoping he had missed an object he could use to cut the enchanted ropes.

"Gods damn Pheres," he said under his breath. If only he could sprout wings and fly over the gate. The tower was only a five-minute jog from his location at the boundary wall.

Then it hit him. He checked his inventory once more. It was still there.

The Jestmaster's Quill. A single-use item he'd been allowed to choose after the second Trial of Worth. Originally, he had planned to use it to create a flying horse to rescue his sister, but that was before the third trial and the appearance of the tower had turned everything upside down.

He took it out, cursing Pheres for forcing him to use it in such rushed conditions. He'd wanted time and calmness to create the beast. Pushing his frustrations aside, he focused, creating the best version he could in the limited time before sunrise.

With the quill in hand, the image in his mind began to shimmer into shape before his eyes. It started silvery, but as the flying horse solidified, it darkened. The creature stood before him, black and moody with bat wings, far from the pristine white horse of legends. In short, it was a horse, but one with an aura of ominous darkness, snorting thick mist into the air.

A title appeared and faded as quickly:

The Night Mare.

Only summonable after dark and will disappear at first light. Can be summoned once a day. Items of appeasement: apples.

Hunter jumped, swinging his leg high over the beast, his foot locking onto the underside of its bat-like wing. The creature snorted, but inched closer, giving him enough height for his tied wrists to slip over the protruding iron holder.

With bound hands, he finished hauling himself up onto the beast, the Night Mare towering over him at easily six feet. It took him a moment to settle between the thick mane and the wings behind him. He clung to the mane as best he could, clicking his tongue while pressing her flanks he gave the command. "Come on, girl, let's go."

Nothing happened.

The horse snorted and sniffed the air, clearly unimpressed.

After a few tries, Hunter turned to bribery. "If you fly me over that gate and go toward the tower, the first juicy apple…"

The word 'apple' barely escaped his lips when the Night Mare flapped her wings. She shot up over the gate with terrifying speed. Hunter gripped on tight with fingers entwined in her mane and legs pressed tighter to her flanks as he nearly fell off to one side.

She flew on, but Hunter quickly realized she wasn't heading for the tower; she was aiming for a small coastal orchard that belonged to some rich noble. Hunter recognized the glint of golden-blush apples. They were so expensive he hadn't eaten one since he was a child.

He did his best to guide the Night Mare and used a stern voice. "Veer right, not left. We are going to the tower. We can get you an apple later."

The Night Mare didn't like that suggestion.

She held her course and flew over the orchard. But she didn't descend as Hunter thought she would. Instead, she flew past the coastline until they were over the sea, spinning in a whirlwind until he lost his grip.

Before he could blink, he splashed down into the ocean, gasping for air as he breached the surface. He watched in frustration as the damn Night Mare flew back to the orchard, leaving him alone to tread in the water.

“Well, for gods’ balls!” Hunter kicked hard, swimming against the ocean current, hands still bound by the enchanted rope. The crashing waves engulfed him, and he held his breath until he could propel himself towards the tower.

If it weren't for Pheres or that apple-eating Night Mare…

A splash of water to his face cut off his thoughts of blame.

The seas were always treacherous, but at this time of year the sharks were in migration. He didn't want to waste energy thinking about what lurked in the depths below, but with bound wrists outstretched in front, he dove into the next wave like a dolphin navigating the hazards of Delphare's coastal city.

As he dipped his head below an oncoming wave, he thought he heard a screeching sound from hell above him. The fatigue and numbing sensation weighed heavy on his legs, but there would be no way he’d sink this opportunity. He kicked harder, his bare feet brushing against something smooth. Refocusing on his goal, the tower’s fading light was the only thing on his mind urging him forward.

He hoped the Night Mare had grabbed its apple to return. Glancing behind Hunter saw no chance of that wishful thought happening. It was all up to him.

Blinking away saltwater, he caught a glimpse of the stranger—the same one who’d been there every time fate had failed him.

Not this time, man.

The stranger pulled down bubble-like eyewear over his eyes.

A short screech echoed near the stranger followed by a high-pitched voice. "Something went terribly, terribly wrong!"