Ailith and Gavan returned soon after Faye’s tumble in the snow. Arran immediately dragged them into a discussion about Faye’s system issue.

Faye and Arran had all but exhausted the topic already, it had felt like. But Arran and Gavan jumped in with both feet.

Leaving them to talk it through, she was more an observer right now, Faye took the chance to make some food for them. She would have to shout across the room whenever they needed to know something.

“Your skill, it’s definitely basic swordfighting?” Ailith called out.

Faye dodged some spitting oil as the sausages she was cooking broke open a little.

“Ow. Yeah! Basic. That’s what I remember. I was only fighting… squirrels or cats or something at the time? No need for fancy swordwork.”

They didn’t answer her but dissolved into a semi-heated discussion once more. She shook her head, smiling. It was nice that they were tackling her problem with gusto. It meant that she wasn’t completely alone, despite the occasional crushing sense of loneliness.

She still shivered with the memory of that dark shape in front of her in the courtyard earlier, but there was nothing to do be done about it. If she was imagining things, she didn’t want to let them know, and if it was something that was going to hurt her, it clearly was much higher level than her and nothing she did would stop it anyway.

She added Lóthaven’s tomato equivalent to the pan on the stove top, cutting up the sausages into bite-sized pieces as she did. There were some basic equivalent foods that had translated well. Bread, beer, sausages, stews. But something like a spicy sausage ragu? Not on the adventurer’s radar at all.

They’d told her a few days ago that there were obviously places in the world that served vastly different foods. But though transport wasn’t something that was completely impossible, it was much more expensive getting large quantities of foodstuffs through the wilderness here. It meant that regional foods were much more common in this world than Faye was used to.

She thanked the wisdom of the system that allowed there to be some similarities in the foods, and this tomato-like vegetable that was much more resistant to cold than the ones she was used to. Tomatoes were the basis of basically every meal she would prepare for herself, back home.

She would do what she could to introduce new recipes to her friends.

Placing the steaming bowls in front of the three arguing adventurers was enough to get them to stop and stay quiet for a few minutes.

“This is really good,” Arran said. He’d picked up the bowl and was spooning it into his mouth from an inch away.

“I like the spice,” was all that Gavan said. But he cleaned the bowl spotless by licking it, so Faye considered that a meal well done.

Ailith, on the other hand, had only gotten halfway through the bowl before sliding it across to Gavan.

“I’m sorry, but the heat is a little much for me.”

“I am so sorry, Ailith!” Faye said. “Can I make something else for you?” She was halfway to the kitchen before Ailith literally pulled her back to her dining chair.

“No, I’ll get something later. Listen, we’ve been talking.”

“Hmph, fine. And no, really?”

“Oh, don’t you start with that as well,” Ailith said, nudging her on the shoulder. “Just sit there and listen.”

“We are not scholars,” Arran started. “By any stretch of the imagination. You should only take our advice as it is intended: a warning and a suggestion.”

“It sounds ominous, but really there are people who would consider us children playing with things we don’t understand.”

“Let me guess,” Faye said, “none of those scholars are here in Lóthaven?”

“The capital,” Gavan said by way of answer. “Always in the capital.”

“He’s right, if you need anything, you’ll find it in the capital. But yes, there are multiple scholarly Guilds, though they don’t always call themselves that. One, the Glorious Society of Learned Scholars—”

“What?” Faye interrupted. “That’s a little over the top, isn’t it?”

Ailith grinned. “Not at bad as some of the others, believe us. The Worshipful Company of Banking and Minting is a prime example.”

Faye shook her head, chuckling.

“As I was saying though, there’s a guild in the capital that would be able to tell you so much more about the system and how it works. We’re working with very little.”

Faye held up a hand. “I get it, you’re not experts. That’s fine, I didn’t expect you to be. Now stop hedging and tell me what I need to hear.”

Arran nodded. Ailith looked pleased with Faye’s proclamation, though as usual Gavan was placidly watching them speak without much overt emotion.

“We’ve never really heard of cases where someone’s system didn’t work, like yours. In a unique case, we would normally recommend immediately talking with the Administrator.”

Faye’s eyes widened. “Her? The woman that stole my sword?”

Arran grimaced. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m not sure you do, Arran. She basically laughed in my face and declared me a child. Why would I go speak to her?”

“Because she may literally be an expert.”

“No way,” Ailith interrupted. “She’s an adept. A middle adept probably.”

Gavan hummed. Faye wasn’t sure which person he agreed with most, but it seemed that he wasn’t certain with Arran’s or Ailith’s statements.

Arran held up a hand, glancing amongst the team. “I acknowledge that she may not literally be an expert–"

"Wait, you're using terms differently than I think you should be," Faye said, interrupting. "What is an adept, middle adept, and an expert referring to here?"

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Arran grimaced. "Sorry, sorry, you're right. They are shorthand. Asking and referring to someone's level directly is not done in polite conversation, so people developed a way of speaking about levels generally."

"Aye, like unclassed, uncrested, crested..." Ailith added.

Faye nodded. "Okay, makes sense."

"Adept is the tier above crested. It starts at level twenty. Expert starts at the next tier up, level fifty."

Faye nodded.

"But," Ailith said, "getting to that level and tier is... well, difficult is an understatement."

"So you don't think the Administrator has reached that high?" Faye asked.

"Absolutely not," Ailith said, huffing. "Nah, middle adept makes more sense. Why else would she be out here? No one else in the town is that high. Most folks here are crested. The resources to get higher aren't given out freely."

Faye thought for a moment. "Why does the adept tier cover so much of the range?"

"It just does?" Ailith said, shrugging. Even Arran and Gavan shook their heads.

"Alright, we will put that down to an unknowable mystery, for now, then," Faye muttered.

"None of that changes the fact that she is the Administrator," Arran said. "When you speak with her, Faye, she will be able to tell you exactly your stats, skills, your progression options, and your likelihood of success in a new path, amongst other things. That's part of her class skills."

Faye got the impression that Arran had been to the Administrator to talk about his own path once or twice.

She shrugged, though. “I understand what you’re saying, but honestly, she made me so angry the last time I saw her. I wouldn’t listen to her properly. I already know that. So, I’m not going to go crawling to her.”

After a few minutes of back and forth where the arguments didn’t change on either side, the adventurers eventually agreed with Faye’s decision.

It’s not like she gave them much option, there.

“What about Taveon?” Faye asked. “Surely he knows quite a lot more than you three? He has shown he’s willing and able to teach me before — it’s just that he’s been busy.”

Surprisingly it was Arran that said no, this time.

“He must complete the year’s teaching. It would be bad luck for the children to lose out.”

Gavan just looked away, without saying anything, while Ailith chuckled.

Arran frowned at them. “They don’t understand, but that doesn’t matter. You must let him finish his assigned task. The children are literally the town's future and without that basic education, their parents will have them locked into a single path. Taveon is giving them options, Faye. Those options are vital for Lóthaven.”

Faye shrugged. “Alright, I wouldn’t have bothered him until he was free anyway.”

“The First Winter festival will be in a few weeks, I think. He’ll be free then, at least for a few days, and you’ll be able to speak to him more,” Ailith said. “Whether or not you believe the local superstition about school learning or not, there will be a lot of grumpy townsfolk that will get in the way if you try to bother him now.”

Faye frowned, remembering the man she’d already had problems from. “I seem to have met someone like that already.”

“Faye…” Arran murmured. His face was so serious scrunched up like that she almost giggled. She kept it in though.

“I promise not to bother him, Arran.”

This mollified the man, for now. He settled back in his seat, his gaze becoming less intense and focused on his cup instead of her face.

Gavan spoke up.

“You should focus on something else.”

Faye cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Something you haven’t learnt before. Something different, or new, or difficult.”

Ailith nodded, pointing at Gavan as he made the point. “Yeah, we pretty much all agree on that one.”

She thought about it for a moment. There were plenty of things she didn’t already know, but what would be the best option?

“You should try learning magic.”

She froze.

“Oh my God, I almost forgot,” she whispered. “How did I forget that magic was a thing?” she demanded the three adventurers, who all grinned.

“I have no idea,” Arran said. “You were all adamant, a few weeks ago.”

“I guess,” she said, “that without a real teacher… I just didn’t know what to do, or where to start…”

She was playing with a whorl in the wood of the table, picking at it with her fingernail. She flicked her gaze up to Gavan’s face.

He was frowning at her.

Arran, Ailith, and Faye all laughed at his expression.

“Oh, come on, Gavan,” Arran said. “She was obviously going to ask you.”

“Our punishment…” the mage began.

They all flinched.

“That’s not something we’d be able to get away with,” Faye said, “and I don’t think trying to beat up the next Guild representative will be the best idea. I’m still not sure that my fight with Iain was a good idea.”

“Bad idea. Good result.” Gavan shrugged. “Worth the consequences?”

“We don’t know yet,” Ailith said. “They could come bursting in here someday and tell us that Faye has broken the last rule she’s breaking, hauling her away to the dungeon for the rest of her natural-born life.”

“Come on,” Arran interrupted, “don’t give her the wrong idea.” He turned back to Faye. “We’re more civilised than that, I assure you.”

Faye made a face. “I’m afraid I think there were places back home that would have done the same thing to me had I done something similar there, so I can’t judge.”

“Magic,” Gavan said, in a slow voice. “Magic is… different, than other skills.”

Faye stopped talking, stopped moving. The others were still, as well.

“The more you learn, the more you see. Systems, and systems of magic… they are similar. Learn one, learn the other.”

Faye thought through what the taciturn mage was telling her. It seemed to her that he was speaking more in a riddle than in actual sentences. Gavan watched her carefully as she furrowed her brow at the idea encapsulated by his words.

“So, you’re saying that some of the problems I’m dealing with… the system not telling me what it should be, or me not being able to see skills… I’ll learn more about that if I learn magic?”

A slight twitch of the head. It could have meant yes, it could have meant no.

It didn’t matter.

It was good enough for Faye.

She let out a massive grin, slowly chuckling.

“Perfect,” she said. “It’ll go a lot faster if you’re able to teach me the beginnings, you know.”

“I know.”

She pouted. “Aww, you’re no fun, Mister.”

Gavan let out a rare laugh, and his smile split his face from ear to ear. He stood from the table and proceeded to clear away their plates.

Leaving it for a moment, Faye turned to Arran. He was leaning back in the chair.

“Didn’t you challenge someone to a duel?” she asked.

Arran’s chair snapped back to all four legs.

“Yes.” His voice was solemn, all traces of levity vanished under the weight of that one word.

“When will—”

“When the time is right,” he said. “The man cannot escape the duel. He will face me.”

The intensity coming from Arran was greater than usual. He was channelling Gavan’s usual mentality.

“I’m sorry I asked,” she muttered.

Ailith patted her on the shoulder. “It’s always like that. You’ll learn not to ask.”

“Yeah, I got that,” she said, smiling ruefully.

“He’s a big bully, really,” Ailith said, jerking a thumb at Arran as she turned to Faye. The smirk affected only the far side of her face, where Arran couldn’t see. Faye noticed a twitch in one eyebrow. “Beats on poor defenceless guards often. Used to be worse. Used to get to the point that he’d duel multiple guards a day. Guild Leader had to step in, stop him from issuing them. Said he was too cruel for—”

“That. Is. Not. True.”

Ailith held her pose for a few seconds more, before giving up and just laughing instead. Arran’s face was purple, an impressive shade of puce that made it look like he would pass out.

“Duelling is an honourable tradition. I have never, never, used that honourable ceremony to belittle the guards. It was only that I was disrupting some of them from their duties, occasionally, and the Guild asked me to stop.”

“You made that one guy quit and become a shoemaker!”

A vein bulged in Arran’s neck. “His whole family were shoemakers! He had been the first in eleven generations to go into the Guard!”

“And you shamed him so much that he went back, tail between his legs!”

Ailith’s arguments came out in bursts, half smothered by laughter. Faye looked on, bemused, as the pair continued ribbing each other. They never quite made it to blows, but there were a few cases where she could have easily imagined it going the wrong way.

Gavan brought out a bottle of something sweet, a wine that Faye quite enjoyed the flavour of, and shared it out amongst them at Ailith and Arran continued arguing back and forth. It seemed that despite the humour and tears of laughter in Ailith’s face, Arran couldn’t resist the jabs at his honour she was doling out.

Faye just smiled and half-listened. She was plotting the quickest way to get to Taveon’s classroom. She’d found out that when the snows came, he transferred all classes indoors. Finding him before the children got there might be difficult, but she had to try.

Magic.

She shook her head. She had been wasting time. There was a whole world of magic to learn, and she had been wasting it getting her sword taken from her, or cooking, or learning to read…

She would learn magic if it was the last thing she did.