“C’mon, you two, pick up the pace.” Sylvia Leen waved down at Ark and Mino, standing atop a small hill, with a light backpack and a grand smile on her face.

Ark, meanwhile, was shaking from exhaustion, sweat dripping down his face, as he struggled forward, one step at a time. His backpack was similar in size and weight to Sylvia’s, but to him it felt like a leaden weight.

Next to him, Mino was also breathing heavily, although he looked better than Ark. While he was stronger, he was also heavier, meaning the trek took its toll on him.

They were in a hillscape, surrounded by grass that grew thick and long, while a green brush of forest was visible in the distance. It was, by far, the most idyllic and friendly realm that Ark had ever been to.

Bounty, it was called, and the name fit. There was a wealth of forage, just waiting to be picked up. Ark thought for sure that he would have passed the last survival outing if it had happened here.

“I said c’mon, get moving!” Sylvia put more steel into her voice, and both Ark and Mino upped their efforts, stumbling forward at an increased pace. Together, they crested the hill; Ark fighting himself all the way, right up until he was next Sylvia, where he collapsed on the ground, heaving for air.

His backpack felt like a ton of rocks, pressing down on his back as he stood on all fours, desperate for oxygen.

“You alright there, Ark?” Sylvia said, squatting down beside him. He nodded, trying to say something, but gave up. No point.

“Okay, I think we’re taking a break. Why don’t you get comfortable as well, Mino? It’s actually a good spot; you can look down the valley, see the machines working down there?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ark saw Sylvia point down into the land below them, beyond the edge of the hill. He wanted to look, but he got dizzy unless he kept his focus on the ground and his own breath. Why was it so hot?

As he gradually gained control of himself, his breath slowed. Without the rushing sound of his own lungs dominating his hearing, Ark began to hear birdsong in the distance, along with a mechanical whirl that was subtle but distinct.

When he finally felt ready, he pushed off from the ground and, still kneeling, looked up at what lay beyond the hill.

Down there, the wild landscape turned into a cultivated gardens of squares and roads, edged by hedges and bushes. Within the multitude of squares, vehicles worked the land in a near-coordinated dance of linear movement, up and down the massive fields of corn and wheat.

This was one of the breadbaskets of Vanguard, a realm so fertile that it could supply enough food to sustain the million-strong population of the station, as well as the many outposts that Vanguard maintained across the web of realms it influenced.

Why were they here? Ark still did not know. They had received their packs this morning, and then been told to follow Sylvia through the rifts leading to this place. At this very moment, Ark was just glad for the break. He managed to get back up on his feet and stagger over to where Sylvia and Mino were sitting on a couple of rocks.

“Ahh, Ark, you finally made it,” she said, smiling, “Well, what do you think?” She waved in the general direction of the valley.

“It’s—ah… great,” he said, noncommittally.

She snorted, shaking her head at his vague answer. “You just can’t appreciate it properly, yet. If we’re really lucky, we’ll have a chance for you to see why this place is special.”

Ark looked down over the valley once more, trying to figure out what she saw that he was missing. “I mean, it’s great that we get food from here,” he said, trying again, “But I knew that already. What’s the point of coming here just to see it?”

She looked at him again, and the humor were gone from her eyes. Cold as steel, they now observed him much like she would observe an opponent in a fight, he figured.

“Just knowing where your food comes from isn’t enough, Ark. You have to understand things like these, or else you won’t appreciate them.” She nodded down toward the many machines working the land, and added, “In each of those vehicles, there’s a human steering and maintaining it. These people have dedicated their lives in order to feed others; is there a higher calling in life, do you think?”

Ark looked down at the machines again, trying to see the humans down there. He had very little luck.

“What about protecting others?” He said, trying to counter her argument, “That’s what we’re told we’ll do.”

“How can you protect anything, if your stomach is empty?” She said, knocking down his point of view in an instant. “A lot of riftwalkers fail to understand this, Ark, and thus they fail to be the protectors they were meant to be. We fight each other as much as we fight outsiders, for power and glory, more than than serve the people who need us the most.” She nodded down toward the people on the field. “From these people, I will have you learn the most important lesson of your lives.”

“Which is?” Ark was skeptical. What could farmers possibly teach him?

“You’ll see—oh, look! You might actually have an opportunity right now.” She smiled and stood up, shielding her eyes from the light that came from the realm boundary above. Ark followed her gaze, down to one the vehicles below that had stopped in the middle of a field.

The machine was visibly tilting to one side, and looking closer, Ark could see that it was because its right tire had punctured. A young man crawled out from the interior of the vehicle and onto the ground, where he inspected the damage.

Soon, in the distance, another vehicle stopped its rhythmic movements, turned and drove to the young man’s position. Another driver got out, and inspected the damage to the first machine. It was not long before a third arrived, and three people stood around the damaged machine, speaking and gesturing to one another.

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“What are they doing?” Ark said, furrowing his brow. This was inefficient. The two others should have continued working, while the driver of the punctured vehicle should have figured out a solution on his own.

“You’ll see,” Sylvia said, smiling.

Another minute of talking, and one of the drivers got back into their vehicle and drove off, while the other driver moved their tractor into position so that it could lift the damaged one. Together, the two drivers proceeded to remove the wheel that had punctured, setting it off to the side, just as the third driver returned with a new wheel.

It barely took them any time to fit the new wheel back on the damaged vehicle, and soon it was moving once again, back to it’s own linear dance.

“Did you see it?” Sylvia said, turning to Ark with expectation written all over her face.

Ark tried to figure out the point she was trying to make, when a finger prodded him in his temple. “You think too much, Ark,” she said, prodding him once more for good measure, “It’s a bad habit. Try going with your gut for once, or perhaps your heart, what do they tell you?”

Feeling at his stomach, Ark did feel slightly peckish, though he doubted that was what she meant. In the end, he just shrugged and muttered, “They helped one another out. That’s what I saw.”

“Yeah? And was it worth it?”

“For the guy with the damaged tractor, yes. For the others? I don’t think it was worth it. They wasted their time and got nothing in return.”

“Are you sure?”

Ark thought on it some more, but returned to his initial assessment every time. Finally he just nodded. “I’m sure.”

“What about the next time they’re in trouble? Maybe they will also puncture a tire, or maybe they will get stuck in mud—it happens.”

“That’s just a hypothetical,” Ark said, brows creased, “You don’t know if that will happen.”

“No, but I know something will happen,” Sylvia shrugged and looked back down on the fields, “Something always does, Ark. Shit happens; it does to me, it will to you. You’re already in what I’d call a shitty situation, so how are you going to deal with it?”

“Fight it?” He suggested.

She laughed. It was the loudest laugh he had ever heard from her, and at the end she even wiped a tear from her eye. “That,” she said, still chuckling, “Is about the worst thing you can do, Ark. Take a lesson from those farmers down there, instead. They understand patience better than most. They sow their seeds without knowing how much they will get in return, because they can’t know if the weather will provide them with everything they need, even in this realm.”

She waved at their fertile surroundings and continued. “Likewise, they don’t know if they will need help from others, so what do they do? They help others first, knowing that if shit happens to them, they will be sure to receive the help they need in return. They sow seeds of kindness, and watch them grow, like the crop in their fields.”

Ark looked down at the tractor that had been immobilized moments earlier, now returned to work without much of a hitch. He could not help imagine himself down there, in that field, stuck in mud to his waist and unable to breathe. Who would come help him?

“What if it’s too late?” He said, quietly, as the lesson slowly dawned on him.

Sylvia knelt down by his side and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him to face her steely eyes that had once again turned kind.

“It’s never too late to show kindness, Ark,” she said, her voice so soft it broke his heart. He felt numb and unable to speak. She smiled at him once more, then stood up. “Alright, you two, enough dawdling about. Let’s get down there, shall we?”

She started walking forward, her back receding down the path leading into the valley.

Ark squared his shoulders and prepared for another trek of hardship and pain, adding to that the black pit that had opened in his stomach. He did not know how he could even start practicing what Sylvia was trying to teach him, and felt lost.

With heavy footsteps he followed, fighting against the weight on his back as the backpack shifted back and forth in tune with his gait. Each step he took got cumulatively worse, as the exertion drained him of energy without mercy.

Then, very suddenly, his backpack lightened. Ark blinked and looked over his shoulder. There he saw Mino, walking beside him with a placid expression on his face, one massive hand holding up Ark’s backpack as they continued down the winding path.

----------------------------------------

Ark awoke, eyes popping open as if they had simply been waiting for their queue. The memory of the dream lingered, and he tried to hold on to it; cling to it, as if it was a lifeline thrown to him as he drowned.

This was the second night in a row that he had been dreaming of the past, and he was not sure what to make of it. Perhaps it was the guilt talking; the many ways in which he had failed since then.

He twisted out of the bed and stood up without disturbing Mino, who was snoring softly on the bed in the opposite end of the room. Walking to their bathroom, Ark entered and placed his hands on the sink, staring into his reflection in the mirror.

Ash-gray eyes stared right back, as hard and unmoving as ever. His hair, in matching color, was an untidy haystack from a night of twisting and turning, and his face looked haggard and pale.

From the neck down, scars were edged into his scrawny body from years of training and hardship. Burns, cuts, acid; all had been deployed during training, either in duels with other trainees, or in interrogations and discipline.

What a load of shit, Ark thought, closing his eyes and thinking back on that day. The picturesque landscape, filled with birdsong and the sweet scent of flowers and grain, mingled with the pungent odor of manure from the fields.

He had learned a lesson that day, although living by it was another matter. There was only so much kindness you could show, while you were drowning in the mud and piss of everyday life.

Walking back out, he sat back down on his bunk and rustled through the clothes he had neatly placed on the chair beside his bed. He picked out the object he had stored within and studied it, without turning on the lights.

Flicking the coin back and forth between his hands, Ark could not help but wonder how he always found himself in situations like these, where a single decision could change everything.

“Maybe I deserve it,” he muttered, underneath his own breath, stopping the coin in his left hand. The light within the purple stone flickered slightly as he held it up, peering into that wondrous power that he would never touch.

Was that the lesson that Alistor wanted him to figure out? That he should know his limits?

No, there was nothing dangerous about that. Ark licked his lips and felt the excitement tingle down his spine. Alistor had said he was the most dangerous, of all the trainees. He wanted to know why. Ark wanted, more than anything else, to be dangerous.

“What’s that?” Mino said, blearily, as he awoke with a yawn.

Ark fisted the coin, hiding it from view, and said, “Nothing.”

“Sure, sure.” Rising to a seat, Mino gave Ark a look that told him he bought none of it, but that he would not ask. That just make Ark feel worse. What could be the harm in telling his friend?

He’ll only get worried, Ark thought. The coin was for him to figure out, and somewhere within the depths of his heart, Ark did not want to share it. It felt wrong. It was his.

I’ll tell him when I’ve figured it out, he decided, nodding to himself. Moments later he froze in the middle of a nod, sensing there was something he had forgotten. The twisting sensation in his stomach warned him, urging him to take heed. Unsure, he settled on another thought, or if I run out of time.