Frank wasn’t sure what he’d expected. They made a lot of noise, marching all over the place, fighting hundreds of Bones in it. Of course all the Demons were gone, their cubbies abandoned. The party found several living spaces in the third path. Ones that looked to his eye like Demons visited regularly. Though how that worked with their need to move, he wasn’t sure. Someone had taken the time to carve stone, and dug a two, three meters deep pit at the entrance, hidden by an illusion. It wasn’t on the map, and Frank would be sure to add it to the communal one, when they got back.

“Good thing we’re already learned to check our footing in every room.”

There was some kind of sludge at the bottom of the pit, but he wasn’t going down there to find out what it was. There could easily be hidden runes, just waiting to blow up in his face. Here, at least, they found some abandoned loot. Some coin, and a few trinkets buried under the rest of the rubbish. The best find was an earring made with small gemstones.

“The blue ones are sapphires, right?”

It was a thin silver chain holding three blue gems, smaller than his pinkie nail. Probably less than a cm each. It would need to be evaluated. Frank was somewhat leery of just taking it to a merchant. In the Empire, this would be advertising they had it and laying out a welcome mat for thieves. Deli’s insistence that “That doesn’t happen here.” wasn’t as reassuring as she probably thought it was. Frank was aware how sheltered she’d been.

It might not have happened in her town, but that didn’t mean it couldn't happen in other places in the Confederation. Like this one.

Besides, the caravan didn’t have a merchant that dealt in gems. Not real ones. It had one with regular jewellery, but that was in bone, silver and polished stones. Not gems. Convincing Deli not to talk about it wasn’t easy. Oh, he could tell her not to, and she’d listen. But if she didn’t agree with it, Frank worried how committed she’d be to keeping it secret from everyone.

It could slip out if she was careless.

He wanted to keep it to themselves, except from the Reclaimer Captain. He didn’t know what kind of truth reading Skill his advisors might have, but cheating him out of their due was a quick way to end up in deep shit.

The biggest surprise for Frank was a small shelf halfway up a wall of a rocky cavern, which looked like a bookshelf carved out of the stone. It still had three books in it, well preserved, with signs of recent use. No dust on them. They were a book on fairy tales, a famous legend from the Eversnow disaster, and a cookbook. Deli was pretty happy with those, but wiped out after the third path they explored.

The party settled in to rest, and wait for news.

***

A couple of times, they heard the horn sounding somewhere in the distance. It was the call for reinforcements, but from the distance, not theirs. No runners came to fetch them, anyway. They’d made their camp at one of the barricades. Freshly felled logs, cut up for transport, made the base of it. It was only as tall as a person, sloped on the inner side and mostly flat towards the enemy. Or as flat as stacked and bound logs could get.

Laying down on a small blanket to soften the stone, Deli asked: “Is it always like this?”

“Like what?”

She waved a flagging hand around them. “This.”

A scout ran by them, heading towards the command post.

“How are they, you, still moving?” She grumbled. Deli wasn’t happy. Her voice was envious.

Frank knew the ease with which everyone else kept going was rubbing her shortcomings in her face. It probably always had. But it was different, when she knew she was missing out. After all, there were more side passages. If Frank was on his own, he’d still be exploring.

“You should go. I’ll be ok here.” Deli told him. It was a weak attempt. She didn’t believe it herself.

“How did you put it? Parties stick together Deli. If you’re here, I’m here.” He reminded her.

She lifted her head from the bag serving as her pillow, to give him an uncertain glace.

“Right.”

She didn’t sound convinced.

“Rest, Deli. It’s been a long couple of days, and you’ve done well.”

“Not well enough.” She said, melancholy.

“I think as party leader, that’s up to me. Isn’t it?” Frank asked lightly.

She looked at him for a moment more, but couldn’t hold the eye contact. Glancing at the ceiling Deli said:

“She’s right, I think. Deadbeat. You are soft hearted.”

Deadbeat was one thing. His own party doubting him another.

“No Deli. I just have different standards. You didn’t think me soft while we were training, right?”

That gave her pause. “No.”

“It’s not about you. I’ve gotten a better handle on your limits, and as your leader and trainer, it’s my job to push you, and make sure I don’t push so hard you break. I might not be a Skilled trainer, but I can learn. At least enough to train you.”

Frank paused for effect.

"So let me do my job and you do yours.”

"Resting is a job Frank?" she asked.

He didn't feel the need to answer with more than a nod.

She chewed on that for a minute. “Promise not to take it easy on me?”

“I won’t.” Frank shook his head. “That’s just another way to get you killed. I’ll sweat you to the last drop, so when the time comes, you don’t bleed.”

That finally made her relax.

“The trick is, knowing where that line is.”

***

While there was some fighting at their barricade, those were mostly small skirmishes with demons trying to harass it. Set fire to the logs. Frank made a discovery, when one caught. While he had nowhere near the same degree of control as with mage fire, he could kind off, sort off, feel and manipulate the flames of regular fires too. Not enough to just start or put one out without dipping into his mana, but it was something.

If it grew with the rest of his Skills and Abilities, someday it would probably be impressive. For now, he could snuff out candle flames, but not light them. That was about the limit. Deli managed to nap in the quiet breaks, recovering well. They had rations on them but didn’t need them. A pair of runners delivered food. Which while cold, was fresh from above.

It was hard to tell the passage of time underground. At least he was sure it wasn’t tomorrow yet, as his daily counters hadn’t updated. Eventually, Deli recovered enough to try again, but the naps in the dark, on the stone, in hostile territory? They hadn’t done her eyes any good.

The Body might be willing, but her Will was still flagging. Frank decided it was enough for one day.

Deli wasn’t happy about that, but she obeyed.

They climbed back up the stairs, carrying a load of dead bones, after leaving a request with the Scorekeeper for the loot to be evaluated. Frank didn’t specify why, and the Scorekeeper didn’t ask.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Once in the surface tunnels, Deli did breathe easier, for all she was still subdued. The large bonefire was still burning outside the walls as dusk fell, and the man keeping count had lost it. Now they were just piling them in.

Frank caught the moment Deli saw the smaller fires. Four of them, in a line.

Fires for the fallen. Her mood crashed further.

There were still leftovers being handed out from the morning celebrations. Cold, but still tasty. Rumours said some burrowers had given the outer defences a try. They'd probed around the bonefire, biting at boots, but been dealt with by hunters on watch.

The party went back to their house, and Frank put on some warm soup, to add to the meat and bread leftovers. Put something warm in their stomachs. Deli put on a smile once he started the fire, but it was forced cheer. He didn’t point that out. It wouldn't help.

“With so many Names descending to rescue her, I’m sure Katri will be saved, or at least avenged!” she went on.

Frank let her talk. She wore herself down soon enough. They got ready for an early night. It hadn’t escaped Frank that once they left the underground, the Captain’s second had put them right back into the guard rotation. They’d have to get up pretty early in the morning.

Lying down in bed, Frank wondered himself what had happened to Katri. The woman was brusque, but she’d helped him get to the Tree, in a small way. He hoped she was alright, but it wasn’t likely.

“Hey Frank?” Deli asked form her bed, across the room.

“Yes?”

“We could have died.”

There was something strange about her voice.

It wasn’t likely, but it had been possible. “Yes.”

“I think… I think I’d like that. To die with weapon in hand.”

Frank got up on his elbow, to give her a firm look: “The point is to make the enemy die. Not get yourself killed, Deli.”

“Right." She paused.

"I know that.” Deli said, pensive.

“But we all die sometime.” she continued.

“I’d like mine to mean something. To fall fighting in a battle that matters.”

Frank took a deep breath. Slowly let it out in a soft sigh. “I think we all do that. Seek meaning."

He added in a lighter tone: "Though I'd prefer it if you won any such fight.”

…

She didn’t reply.

“Get some rest Deli.”

“Rest is all I’ve been getting.” She grumbled, but some life had returned to her voice.

“Complaining isn’t restful.” he pointed out.

She threw a slipper at him.

…

“Good night Frank.”

“Good night Deli.”

***

Yawning, Frank watched the sun slowly rise. They were lucky in a way. The curve in the valley meant that Blighttown was on the southern slope of the mountain, so he didn’t have to wait for it to appear out of the shadow of the looming giant. Deli was beside him, warmly wrapped up, leaning on his shoulder. Or he was leaning on hers. Point was, she was a big woman, he was a grown man and they were both leaning on each other.

The wind was brisk, but not punishing. All the trees and snow shined like a sparkling ocean in the light of the dawn. It had been a boring guard shift. With so many Bones burned, and many more hiding and fighting deep underground, all they had to worry about was monsters. While they’d spotted a giant bird a couple of times, it wasn’t coming close.

The most exciting to happen had been watching the Angel leave at dawn. He’d gone up into the air and burst into shining specks of light, like a fireworks. Frank was kind of disappointed they never got to meet the Angel up close.

When the bird flew by again, he engaged by habit.

“Tell me about it.”

Deli glanced at him, then the bird. “But I already have.”

“Well, I like listening to you talk, and there isn’t much else to do. Tell me more.” Frank shrugged.

She gazed up at the bird for a few moments. “I think I can spin a tale, if that’s what you’re craving.”

Frank bowed to her, and clapped a few times. That got a small grin out of her.

“Give me a few breaths.”

Minutes, Frank translated in his head. They didn’t have seconds, minutes and hours. They had ticks, breaths, and bells. The Eversnow, the Confederation variant, was drops for ticks. Deli sometimes slipped into trade tongue with it, and she wasn’t the only one. But ticks was the proper term in trade. Ticks were counted by an Agility two person snapping their fingers at their natural pace. It set a steady beat, one that while not fully identical, was close enough for most needs.

A breath was: inhale for seven ticks, hold for six, exhale for seven. It was a standard breathing exercise for warriors and solders on the march. Frank didn’t really understand the significance, in practice. But it was how he breathed, since he got Soldier one. It might be some arcane rule, condition, or something.

What it did was help with Stamina recovery. He didn’t understand why it worked, there was nothing special about the pattern itself. But it worked. So Frank learned to do it.

“Thinking about it…”

“Deli, breathe for me, for a bit.”

She frowned at him. “I know, Frank. It doesn’t work. Not for me.”

She wasn’t happy about that.

“Soldier is a Body Skill. Likely a prerequisites of Body two then.”

“It will, soon enough.” He reassured her.

“You think?” Deli asked, her frown disappearing.

“I’m Body two, and I can do it.”

That cheered her up.

***

After a few quiet minutes, Deli spoke up:

“Once, there was a famous hunter, named Okurt Icetop. He’d climbed the tops of many mountains, and hunted monsters and beasts from all over our lands. He was also a tamer of some renown. One day he was seized by a fanciful notion: that a Howler could be tamed. Everyone thought him a fool, that he would waste his life in the attempt. It was well known, then, as today, that monsters couldn’t be tamed.”

She yawned.

“But Okurt would not be dissuaded, being a stubborn lad, and set out to make his attempts. They were many and varied, from the ordinary to the ridiculous. He left meat and grain out to try and feed some, even coldberries and honey. But while some of the things would take his offering, none would allow him close. He drugged a few meals, and made a harness to mount one, trying to trap it while it slept a drugged dream.”

As it played out, Deli mimed the action with her hands: a bird sleeping, a sneaking hunter.

“But when it woke, his lines snapped, and he was mauled, nearly losing his life.”

She smiled. “Now most, they’d be discouraged, but not Okurt. He saw it as a challenge.”

“Seeing as the adults were not being welcoming, he thought to try a chick. He stole away, far up into the frozen peaks and scoured them for the nests of Howlers. So great was his Body, he endured months in that hellscape. So exquisite his Skill, that even among the clouds he could track them in the air. Eventually, far to the north, at the edge of the mountain tops, where the Winter Winds brushed against the peaks, he found one. An egg, about to hatch, and quickly he stole it away.” She rushed at the end.

“Down, down, down the mountain slopes, hunted by an angry mother. Running and hiding for long months, while keeping the chick alive, through all the bites and gashes. In quarters, in months, it grew, and it flew. Every time Okurt feared it would be the last. That one day it would hear its mother's call and fly away, never to return.”

“But it didn’t.” Frank guessed.

“No. The chick grew until it was as big as a house, and when finally he tried to saddle it, it did not protest. Okurt became then the first of our people to fly on a Howler, and the monster became a bird. Our Northern Skydancer, and the aviary that trains them far to the east. The only place in the world where humans can learn to fly without magic or tricks.”

Frank looked from her flushed face, to the cloud the bird had disappeared into. “Aren’t they called Cloud Hunters?”

“Their wild cousins, yes. It was ages ago, Frank. They hunt, animal, monster and human. But they aren’t monsters themselves. Only hungry.”

He looked at her, trying to figure out if this was one of those exaggerations her people enjoyed telling to gullible outsiders.

“And anyone can just walk up and ask for training?”

She shook her head. “Oh no. The Icetop Sanctuary is very selective with its students. Only ten are accepted each year, and only three will become Skydancers.”

“Three bird that big every year?”

That was a lot.

“No, silly. Three partners they’ll take.” She corrected him. “The Skydancers themselves roost in the surrounding peaks. If anyone knows their numbers, they haven’t shared.”

“So they don’t each have a bird they partner with for life?”

“No.” She said, shaking her head. “Where do you get these ideas?”

“Stories, I guess.”

“Strange ones.” She told him, faux mocking.

“Oh like yours are any better. Remind me, was it six, or eight Bones we fought, alongside two Demons, and an Ice Golem?”

“Shut up!” Her voice rose, affronted. “Everyone does that! You, I, am supposed to brag too!”

“Well sure, but you’re also supposed to make it believable.”

She looked at him like he’d betrayed her.

Frank couldn’t help it, he laughed.

Deli scooped up snow and threw it in his face.

Frank was starting to notice a pattern here.

***

When their shift ended, they went in to speak to some of the woodsmen. Frank wanted fresh sticks from the forest, for his carving. He felt ready to try some wands, and wood should be easier to work with then stone, for tools meant to be used only once.

Since getting Channel two, the actual engraving itself, pushing mana into the runes, was more consistent, precise. Before, it would have been foolish to try and put three runes on one item, when one of them was likely to fail and ruin all of them.

Now, he liked his odds a lot better. It would give him more options, allow him to experiment, and be good practice. Deli however, wanted another go at exploration and actual fighting. Well, fighting anything other than Snow Shades. They’d started showing up again with the dawn.

Frank compromised, putting in an order for wand blanks, before the party would head back underground. But while he was negotiating with the woodcutter, they heard cheering in the distance. It spread, and not long after a runner ran past, spreading the news:

“Captain Kierulf the Deathless returns victorious: Demonslayer! Demons vanquished, Empire Warlock slain! Victory for the Reclaimers! Victory for the Living!”

Deli uttered a soft but heartfelt: “Yes!”, as the firekeepers and non-combatants celebrated.

The warriors were eyeing each other. Frank knew what they were thinking. If the big threat was past, what would be happening with all that unexplored space down there? Would the Reclaimers once again seal it up, only to advance according to their own plans?

Or would it still be open for outside parties?

He wasn’t surprised Katri wasn’t mentioned. Disappointed, but not surprised. If something terrible or grotesque had happened to her, they wouldn’t be spreading it at the top of their lungs. But Frank did mean to find out. Even if he’d paid for it in trade, he owed her that much for taking him in, when others wouldn’t.