Everyone was a lot more on edge from the day's events. The sleet that started falling when they tried to make camp was only one of many things that had kept nearly everyone awake. This wasn't the first sleepless night for the veteran adventurers, however, and the years had given way to many creative solutions for this specific problem.

"Alright, on three?"

"Fine by me."

The two readied their staffs, borrowed from Agnes' 'finish later' pile, and prepared to get whatever rest they could.

"One...two...three!"

The two swung down with all the force they could muster. As it turned out, they didn't have quite the grasp on the situation they thought they did.

"Okay, ouch..."

"Yeah, this is definitely easier with Levin around."

Saul started at the mention of Levin. He hadn't even taken time to think about how devestated he would be by all this. How could he even bear to look Levin in the eye after failing his brother so completely? Agnes' calloused hand on his shoulder was the only thing that kept Saul grounded in that moment.

"He's not going to blame you for this, you know."

Saul was greatfull for the encouragement, but it wasn't going to stop him from blaming himself.

***

Clive woke up with a start. The sky was blue, which was a good sign. Quazi was mumbling in her sleep, half submerged in sand. Yet another thing was going his way today. Now that he was rested, Clive took a moment to check up on himself. Based on the sight of his hands, Clive was glad he didn't have a mirror on him.

"Quazi? You up?"

Quazi only grumbled as she pushed herself deeer into the sand.

"Well, I hate to break it to 'ya girl, but we need to get a move on."

Quzi only pushed herself deeper into the sand. Only the squared-off protrution that was her nose remained.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. Do you want the worms to come grab us?"

Quazi pulled herself out of the sand, only to sit herself back down on Clive's feet.

Never try to wake a sleeping mudskimmer. They take rest quite seriously.

Oh, now you tell me. Well, as long as I have you, know any first aid involving sand?

Sand would kill any worms that are still alive in your skin, but if even one is able to kill itself, your blood will be forever tainted. It's you or them at that point; retreat will just give them time to set a trap.

Brilliant. Anything else I should know about this horde?

Clive, I know the things I say make it seem like you could take one on your own, but those are just the infants. You need a whole squad if $)C923rfh7HF&*QH#)Rhcf8q

Okay! Got it! Gotta go!

I love you, Clive, and don't you forget it.

Clive was more than a little confused by that last part. Before, all these conversations had been coming from some disemodied voice. That last one, however, carried with it a vague idea of someone. Clive tried to fight through his growing headache, he wanted nothing more than to find out who would say such a thing to him, but all he could find was the vague idea of something green. With a bit of effort, Clive was able to force his boots out from under Quazi, he suspected the sand had been the only reason he mannaged such a feat, and he set about devising a plan of action.

The worm horde wasn't going to leave him alone as long as he was still close enough to the prairie. Running the opposite direction was still an option, but 'buddy' had seemed to imply that Clive wanted all the worm hordes dead for some reason. 'Buddy' also seemed adimant that he couldn't do this alone.

You're skilled, don't let me convince you otherwise. All I'm saying is that the scrolls hold power that isn't easy to defy.

Defy? Was Clive really trying to defy the scrolls? That sounded like something he might do, but what in the world did that have to do with fighting a worm?

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

*&6C*EF&3h&*GFw89e^F(*g378

Yup! That's enough of that!

But the headache persisted. There was something imporant trying to be remembered, but something very painfull was blocking it. Rather that receede like normal, the headache continued. Eventually, Clive was able to think around the block in his mind, but it wasn't a pleasant experience, and every thought felt much more sluggish than before.

Okay, that can't be good...

Even if 'buddy' had considered a match-up between Clive and the worm horde for a moment, there was no way he was going to face down that thing now.

Clive needed a team.

Clive needed his team.

As Clive watched the mid-afternoon sun begin it's descent out of the sky, he reailized just how quickly he was going to need them.

***

No one wanted to get moving that morning, yet get moving they did. Saul didn't bother to take driving duties from Agnes. The secret was out by this point, and there was only one person who even seemed to care. Said person was currently keeping very quiet. Even if he was trying to protest, Saul wouldn't really be able to blame the kid anymore. Harold had grown up watching the best of adventurer's society from an outside perspective; he had yet to truly understand how twisted this line of work could make you. Saul had seen the terrors people in this line of work could get away with, and felt no need to enlighten this new team himself.

This is Twintarn, hailing Stonewall. Twintarn, hailing Stonewall, cut.

"Agnes?"

"How many times, Saul... you're Stonewall, I'm Testkick."

Stonewall here. What's the situation in Tarnsbed? Cut.

Ouch! Was I really that much of a gonner?

Clive!?

Saul nearly cut the transmission from shock.

How did you even open this line!?

Well, it wasn't easy, I'll give you that much. Luckily, sand makes for a pretty good sygil agent.

Testkick here. Where are you, even!?

Oh, you know. I've been around, did a tour in the desert, tamed a mudskimmer...

Uh, Cleavetarn here? Didn't we agree not to open up this line until we were done with first retirement? Also, why is Clive supposed to be dead?

Fought a worm horde. Trying to kill it later tonight. Sorry you can't join.

Oh, that's no problem! Have fun guys! Cleavetarn cutting out.

Clive, you're supposed to be dead!!

I'll say! If not for Quazi here, I wouldn't have lasted past the first acceleration.

Clive, I spent the better part of our time together trying to explain you out to Saul, and even I have no clue what you're going on about.

Sorry. I'd try to explain over the link, but I don't want to risk giving you the headache I've got.

Clive, why would-

No time, you two! The bottom line is this: I need to kill the worm horde before it kills me tonight. Who's in?

"Uncle Saul? Are you okay?"

Saul turned back to look at his niece. Vug looked quite worried, more so than Saul had seen before. Saul looked down at his paleing knuckles, seeing for the first time the staff clutched in his hands.

"I'm fine." Saul managed to croak out. "We just got a message from Clive."

"You what!?"

"Harold, I will gag you again!"

Saul let out a deep sigh. Clive wanted help with yet another foolhardy scheme, only now he was playing with his own life. The kids were in no position to actually fight yet, but there was nowhere safe to leave them while the experts went off to battle. There was only one option that Saul would have considered.

Where are we meeting you?

***

Levin worried about his brother sometimes. Actually, he worried about his brother most of the time. His position at the bottom of the guard didn't give him much time for anything else. Every morning he trained until his first meal. Every evening he sated vigil at his post on the wall until the dinner bell was rung. Levin breathed in the autumn air. There was little more than a month left before the frost began to settle. Once winter was in full force, Levin would be tasked with fending off the frost apes from the North. For most {Twinblades}, such a job was a death sentence. For Levin, it was one of his few pleasures. Nothing brought a smile to Levin's face like a chance to push himself with a new challenge. Until then, he would stand vigil at his post, worrying about his brother all the while.

"Levin?"

Levin turned to see a captain staring him down, or at least attempting to. Levin was far taller than the average elf, and it was of no small annoyance to many people of high social standing.

"Yeah, boss?"

Levin internally grinned at the way the captain bristled. maybe their next spar would be a bit more of a challenge, now.

"Message from the General. Do try to read it this time."

The captain's sneer was not enough to deter Levin this day. He eagerly took the letter an ripped it open with his teeth.

General Nevel regrets to inform you that you have not been approved for promotion. Feel free to apply next year when you're a stronger, wiser elf.

The captain's laugh did put Levin on edge, but he simply ground his teeth in protest.

"Better luck next year, grunt!"

The rest of the letter, however, was enough to put a smile back on Levin's face.

Fret not, my friend. The Adventurer's Initiative is finally seeing movement. I only ask your patience for a touch longer.

The Adventurer's Initiative had always been Clive's idea, but seeing it finally get some traction filled Levin with hope for the future. If Nevel could pull through, Levin would wait as long as it took.