Hallvar awoke to what could only be described as gentle chaos. Manageable mayhem.

A system notification occupied their thoughts, easily dismissible, but Hallvar was too disoriented to realize that.

new hero skill unlocked

sleep it off

requirements: successfully sleep in a sleep-unfriendly environment

class: fighter

Upon activation, the user quickly falls into a restful sleep, awakening to disruptions based on Awareness and Luck attributes. Sleep will not exceed 8 hours.

Well, that would be helpful when Hallvar had to camp in the woods.

With the system issue out of the way, the 5th hero became suddenly aware of a poking sensation on their cheek – and someone holding their hand.

Hallvar opened their eyes, turning to look questioningly at… of course, it was Kiran. She held the adventurer’s hand like a tool, using their talon as a wake-up device. The old knight dropped their hand unceremoniously once Hallvar made eye contact, and Kiran pointed to the front of the room.

Right. Throne room. Queen was still here. Fates, did they pass out in front of everyone? That was kind of embarrassing. Maybe Hallvar could blame the new [ hero skill ] for this nonsense. No one would believe them, but it might make them feel better to have a pretend excuse.

Blearily, Hallvar followed Kiran’s finger. Stella was standing nearby, awkwardly whisper-shouting for Pipkin to behave. What was the akergryph do—

Oh. The menace was currently on the former throne of the King-Consort, perched at the top along the gilded ornamentation. Hallvar knew very little about royalty and their procedures, but they knew the throne was off-limits.

As if on a delay, the hero stared at the beast, then sat up suddenly once the reality hit.

“Pipkin,” Hallvar grumbled like an embarrassed parent, trying to be stern but not loud.

The others were still talking, The Queen, the Court Mage, the guildmaster. Were those the advisors?

Regrettably, the hero’s call for the akergryph drew their attention; the room grew silent as Hallvar awkwardly managed the bored beast, directing her to their shoulder once she deigned to abdicate the throne.

“Ah, you’re alive.”

That cutting remark came from the Court Mage, who cast a look over his shoulder at the 5th hero. The dry humor Hallvar expected from Anton – especially when in the vicinity of the guildmaster – but they hoped to dodge that bullet in front of the Queen. Guess not.

Hallvar knitted their brows together in contemplation before standing. That was the right thing to do in front of royalty, yeah? Or at least while addressing them.

“Sorry, I don’t think I got enough human sleep recently.”

The stares from the collective adults-in-charge made Hallvar wince; their Defiant trait couldn’t save them from assumptive judgment.

“I’m not explaining that,” Hallvar added after a prolonged silence.

Unaffected, the guildmaster subtly nodded at a nearby ‘slot’ in the ring of advisors. “We were discussing your fate, if you care to be present.”

The hero accidentally met the gaze of the Queen as they took their place, suddenly aware of how the stately elder observed Hallvar’s every movement. They nodded at her, as if to silently apologize for their absence.

“Windhelm, if you would.”

The advisor bowed in acknowledgement to the Queen, directing hir attention to the 5th hero as ze held a board for notes by hir chest.

“It has been determined that although Morozov and the Guildmaster engaged in planning that could be interpreted as espionage or treason, their actions were not without adequate logic. Attempting to hide your presence from Cyciphos was an act of allegiance to the kingdom rather than to the in-absence regent.”

Mhm. Hallvar was still a bit asleep. It sounded like Anton and Viktor weren’t in trouble, though.

The hero nearly leapt out of their skin as a friendly slap hit their shoulders. Kiran was here; Stella lingering back but present.

The old knight translated for Hallvar. “Cyciphos was bad enough that the Queen is pretending our game of keep-the-hero-away didn’t happen.”

“Our game?” The general raised an eyebrow at Kiran.

He was definitely younger than the old knight, so Hallvar had to imagine that Rask had been Kiran’s subordinate at some point. They almost pitied Rask for that fact.

“Her Majesty is well-aware, so don’t pretend you’ve caught me out, Raibeart.”

Kiran leaned on Hallvar as if they were very close friends, which admittedly they were?

It was a strange thing. She was like an odd aunt that – in equal parts – let you do dangerous things and then taught you responsibility. Like wasn’t the correct word here. She was a weird aunt who gave them swords and beat the shit out of them while simultaneously attempting to educate them about the world.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Kiran continued. “Do you think I would house a potential criminal without knowing who or what they were? Did you think I – scatterbrained and feeble in my old age – wasn’t aware of their status as a hero?”

Hallvar was beginning to feel like a pawn in this game. In their irritation, they forgot to be polite and dignified in the presence of the Queen. Again.

“Hey,” they moved to force the old woman to lean elsewhere, glaring at her. “Can you two have your pissing match elsewhere? I’m trying to learn what all the fancy people decided to do with me.”

The indiscretion was entirely Kiran’s fault, as the hero was comfortable telling her off. Kiran turned on the hero; she was tall for a woman but still below Hallvar’s height.

“Didn’t you hear? They’ve decided you need to pay me rent for your extended stay at my cottage. You’ll be polishing silver and dusting corners here. We’ve already put your bedroll in your cell.”

Her grin made it clear she was joking. Hallvar had a lot of pent-up stress, so they chose to counter in a playful retort.

“Well, sucks for them because I’m terrible at cleaning and I’ve never owned actually silver silverware in my life. They better hope I escape again or else the silver is getting extra tarnished.”

A polite sound came from the front, from the throne. Whoops. The Queen, despite her stoic nature, looked to be slightly amused; a wrinkle at the corner of her eyes betrayed her feelings.

“We believe that settles the decision.”

“Your Majesty?” Anton questioned, politely prompting an explanation for what was not obvious – unless the Queen meant forced-servitude as a maid, as Kiran was implying.

“If Hero Hallvar has the temperament of Ser Kiran and the… compliance of their Guildmaster, then they are not suited for employment here in Saltkrow Keep. We see no reason they cannot serve the Kingdom directly through our people, as a member of the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Hallvar’s eyes lit up as the understanding hit them, glancing back at Stella in delight. She kept quiet and calm, but a smile still rested on her lips.

This meant they could continue to stay with the guild. It might even be a direct order to do so, Hallvar wasn’t entirely sure.

“As the other heroes will receive training from a variety of sources, we will give you the purview – Morozov, Windhelm, Rask – to either advise Hero Hallvar directly or delegate that task to someone suitable.”

The advisors agreed, their polite words overlapping. Rask spared a glance for the hero, as if summing up Hallvar’s capabilities for the first time.

“In this order, we will speak to Master Veðraldi, Lady Harnell, and Ser Morozov concerning Guild affairs; then to our Advisors and staff on the matter of Cyciphos; then to Hero Hallvar.”

More agreements. Hallvar squinted, trying to figure out what more could be said.

“With the extensive judgment and prior travel, we believe these meetings will extend over a few days. We do not have the endurance afforded to youth and must rest.”

The Queen glanced at Hallvar and Stella, easily the youngest people in the room. She eyed the pair, not oblivious to the care passed between them regardless of physical distance.

Even if their closeness was not obvious, it was part of a report received before the trial – that the magically-talented elf who was the social lynchpin of the Guild, and Viktor’s eventual successor, was very comfortable with the red-haired hero.

Harsh punishment for the hero would have resulted in a complex social situation for the capital, given that the Guildmaster was loyal by design, not intent, and his successor would have lost faith in the Crown had a more terrible fate than a lost finger happened to Hallvar.

The Guild was the only concentration of power in Amnasín that could potentially rival the Queen’s troops; it was important to maintain a good relationship.

“Hero Hallvar, as we must rest, we ask you to stay at Saltkrow until our meeting has occurred. You are not captive in any manner, although we will be disappointed if you leave early. During this time, we ask that you take advantage of our physicians, equipment, and library, as have the other heroes.”

They nodded slowly, taking in the information. They were intrigued by the concept of equipment, though unsure what they could actually want or need.

“We believe Ser Kiran has so presumptively dropped her things off in a guest room, so you will have company if you wish.”

Kiran bowed, the first time Hallvar ever witnessed her behave formally. “I have presumptively eaten of your meats and cheeses too, Your Majesty, so I apologize for that indiscretion as well.”

What was going on? Hallvar was beginning to believe that Kiran was friends with the royal. Could Queens have friends, even?

“Your Highness?” That was Stella, her voice wavering with nerves but full of intent. “If I may be equally bold, I submitted a request for access to your library a while ago, but I was not afforded access. If there is any way I can—”

The Queen interrupted her, holding up a hand. “Permission granted, Lady Harnell. We were not aware of your request; we suspect any connections to Master Veðraldi were denied based on Cyciphos’ grudge, which is no longer a concern. Alert the staff if you need your own room instead of sharing.”

The implications settled over Hallvar slowly, even as the Queen tossed out more orders directing people to the waiting rooms or to wherever they pleased.

The hero’s ears were flushed red by the time they understood. Oh. The Queen expected Hallvar and Stella to share a bed. Were they that obvious?

The conclusion of the court events happened suddenly, with a servant… butler… person escorting Hallvar out.

Kiran and Rask chatted enthusiastically once they were in the hallway, falling quiet only for a moment as the Queen passed through with Anton, Viktor, and Stella in tow, as well as her retinue. Probably going somewhere comfier to chat, if Hallvar had to guess.

Windhelm hurried off, giving orders to a buzzing rush of clerks and attendees, like bees flitting here and there. If Hallvar’s guess was correct, ze had something to do with the political side of the capital, which meant today was a horrible, horrible day for hir.

The next few hours were a rush of introductions for Hallvar. They failed to remember most names, though everyone was polite and helpful.

First, to the medical hall, where they took another power nap after being poked and prodded and told to rest. Their neck was as healed as it could be; only the passing of time would permanently fix it.

Next, to a guest room where food and a bed awaited them. They were assured that the bathroom was functional with hot water – almost like their old life – but Hallvar had no drive to clean at the moment.

They were already suffering the consequences of their new subclass, so attempting to bathe seemed out of the question. Their talons caught on everything. Hooking bread as they attempted eat, poking soft parts as they used the restroom, generally being in the way.

With no other choice, Hallvar stood at the windowsill and drew each talon over the stone ledge. They tried to find an inconspicuous spot in case the effort caused damage, but the white-grey marks left on the white-grey stone weren’t that obvious.

Pipkin watched in eager curiosity, though once Hallvar cracked open the window she left to her own devices.

After an extended effort, their talons were no longer piercing-needle sharp. Maybe more like a skewer sharpness. Capable of piercing meat and veg, certainly, but wouldn’t catch like a fishhook at a mere glancing touch.

Their hawk form needed sharp talons; their human form did not.

That solved one of many issues. Hallvar managed to take their pants and belts off, but the waistcoat and shirt were a chore. Their fingertips were actively sore by the time they managed to hook all the buttons in exactly the correct way to remove the garments without destroying the fabric.

Hallvar gave up after only a few seconds of trying to rid themselves of the gloves that their talons were so carefully threaded through.

It seemed to be a futile effort. These gloves were more fitted and carefully made than the cheap machine-made ones from their prior life. It would take a lot more effort to remove them than Hallvar was able to exert through awkwardly angled finger pads and knuckles.

They collapsed into bed. Their sweaty hands proved to be no barrier to the need for sleep, even without the assistance of their new [ hero skill ].