Before I conclude with a short passage from the Journey of Apheros, let me explain my reasoning for writing this book.

While many view the symbol of the three kingdoms to be a shield over an axe, spear, and hammer; a united front to eliminate the migrating monsters from the north each year, I believe the true symbol is a book.

Before the discovery of the humans, dwarves and elves were merely trading partners, and our societies barely mingled together, let alone communicated. But that all changed when Oscar, the Chosen of Apheros crossed over into the Elven Kingdom, and pointed out that their churches to Apheros were constructed in a shape familiar to every human male.

Things changed quickly, soon we were revising our calendars and standard measurements to create consistency. Elves and dwarves were learning the human tongue, finding it much easier to learn than each other’s languages. And technology was being shared, the result in your hands right now.

Ink from the human chemists, paper from the elven artisans, and a printing press crafted by the dwarves.

One can only wonder, “What else is out there?” Scientists have long concluded that we’ve only explored a fraction of the planet we live on, and it’s quite likely that other continents exist. Could there be other races that we don’t know about? Perhaps a homeland of the orcs? Floating cities that didn’t crash to the ground during ragnarok? Other gods?

There is so much us mortals don’t know, and according to the humans, much that the gods don’t even know as well.

Apheros closed their book as they finished recording their findings. The giant aquifer underneath the Northern Tundra extended downhill to this location, breaking through the surface, and forming a spring that fed into the nearby river.

He reached to pick up his newly crafted spear that according to Adamanrion, could kill any monster with a single blow. Patted to ensure his new handaxe was still on his hip after using it to navigate the dense forests, and that his hammer was present as well, since they spent the night using it to create his shelter. He then stood up to sling his trusted wooden shield onto his back, stepping out of the loghouse and into the morning sun.

He stood there for a moment, looking over the horizon, constantly wondering, “What else is out there?”

We hope that you enjoyed this book.

For other published works from Falling Starlight Publications, including: A History of Northman Blacksmithing, Cryptozoology – Human Insanity or a Legitimate Field of Study?, and How to Forge a Connection to a New God, be sure to visit your local library or wherever books are sold.

---

Arc

Burnsday, the 11th of Eighthmonth

Princess Seleyna’s focus at supper today kept seeming to wane, no doubt still unsure what to make of Travis’ behavior. The lad was constantly sending her mixed signals, first by tricking his handsome friend into dancing with her, but secretly inviting her on a date using his friends as a smokescreen, rejecting her birthday party invitation, but then profusely apologizing with a beautiful handmade necklace, and now was seemingly ignoring her at her own table.

Sure, it made sense last week why he’d been so timid after angering Sir Asher, but why was he suddenly putting in so much effort to converse with the other inner-ring nobles? Was Travis playing hard to get? Or just trying to play the field like a certain antlered god? He does spar with that harlot Cordelia during morning drill, had lunch with her just the other day, and was now chatting up a storm with her and a few of the other boys on the far end of the table.

She narrowed her eyes at the Farmboy as he made connections with the capital’s inner elite, both happy and annoyed that he was taking advantage of the opportunity that she gave him…

That… or she was just confused about why Travis set his sword on the table like the country hillbilly he was.

It was probably the former, and definitely not me making up stories to stave off my boredom.

Ugh, I need to find a better outlet for when I’m unable to cast [Message]. Travis and I don’t get to talk as freely as we used to before coming to this academy. Maybe I should urge him to introduce me to someone else? Madness might start to creep its way back into my mind once more if I’m not careful.

Cordelia Langhorne stared down at my sword-body, “My dad used to tell me scary stories about these swords when I was little. My favorite was always the one where the Lakelander Knight killed his father to take control of the fortress, then covered up the murder by turning the body into a sword.” She switched to a spookier tone, “The knight then kept hearing the word ‘murderer’ every time he unsheathed his sword during morning practice, approached a group of merchants talking, or randomly late at night when walking to the privy. He grew paranoid, thinking that his sword was whispering to everyone in the fortress, and was plotting to kill him in revenge. He then started wearing his armor everywhere, making his cat taste his food before eating, and barricading himself in a windowless room at night just so he could sleep, but the whispers continued, until one night he couldn’t stand it anymore and threw himself off the tallest tower onto his sword.”

“Well,” Ansel Raycraft turned to Travis with a shit-eating grin, “that explains why you’re wearing your armor full time and carrying around that overcompensating thing you call a weapon.”

Travis narrowed his eyes at the jokester, “I grew up hearing that story too, what really happened was that the arrogant noble failed to notice a farmer in the field who saw the murder. They then told the merchant who bought their crops what happened, and given how much of an ass the knight was, the merchant wasn’t too surprised. He then told the knight’s servants when they sold their wares, who in turn spread the news throughout the entire fortress. The knight grew paranoid from witnessing the people quiet their gossip whenever he approached, thought the food was poisoned instead of poorly prepared or spit in, flogged a woman who was cleaning the living quarters he defecated in, and finally fell to his death when her guard husband pushed him off the tower.”

Miller Bowitch wolfishly grinned, then spoke in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “But Travis, how could someone as powerful as a knight be killed by a commoner? Surely the sword driving him mad is the more logical explanation?”

That set off a round of laughter on their side of the table, only quieting down when Miller moved my handle closer to him for inspection, “No decoration… Was your ancestor a Hedge Knight?”

Travis shook his head, “Nope, no knights, witches, or even hunters in my family tree. A crazy old man in my village gifted me this before I left.”

Ansel shared a glance with Cordelia, “Gee, I wonder what drove him crazy?”

Miller waved to two off as he leaned in towards Travis, “I guess that explains why you have a Northman style sword. Do you know who’s remains were used to create this?”

“Not a clue. I was able to do some research, and discovered that it’s a prototype for The Fang of Voffer. According to the expert I met, it might not even have any human remains in it, but they’re not sure since the original blacksmith’s records were poorly maintained.”

The Northman noble raised an eyebrow, “Really now?” He looked down at me once more, “Have you been meditating with your sword? Or perhaps tried to attune to it?”

Travis shifted uneasily, “Umm, no. Should I? I thought that attuning to adamantium was impossible?”

Miller made another wolfish grin, and gave my handle a pat, “It is. And no, you should let the dead sleep.”

Gah, sleep… I miss being able to do that. Maybe that’s the real reason why I’m going stir-crazy.

---

Travis

Woodsday, the 14th of Eighthmonth

The line at the takeout counter during my break was short today, and even better, Varguk was serving customers. I got in line, and even let an elf pass me so I could hopefully get a chance to speak to the Spartan.

“Travis, let me guess, chef’s choice?”

I nodded, giving the burly half-orc the go ahead to grab a prewrapped sandwich and drink. Once served, and after checking to see if anyone was behind me, I leaned against the counter to whisper to Varguk, “If I asked you a question, would you be willing to keep it from Reidar?”

Varguk looked uneasy, but still leaned in, “Umm, what kind of question?”

“A Spartan one.” I reached into my valuables pouch to pull out the coin Reidar gave me and showed it to Varguk, “Reidar gave this to me the other day, and I could tell it was a big deal for him, but I’m a little lost on the meaning behind it.”

Varguk’s eyes grew wide, staring back n disbelief at the coin, only startling back to the present when I pulled it out of sight, “Sorry, it’s just… uh…” He looked above my shoulder to see if anyone was approaching, then resumed our huddle, “Reidar’s never given one to someone before.”

“I’m still lost, isn’t this just an identification tag?”

“It’s more than that.” Varguk paused to find his words, then pulled a similar coin from one of his pouches, “Twelve children can be a lot for even a veteran spartan to handle, so one of the ways to manage activities is to give these out to us kids. You can spend them to pick the game for the afternoon, request something different or extra from the cook, or you can give one to another kid to invite them over for a playdate.”

The symbolism hit me like a charging bull, I know Reidar said he was shy growing up, but…

“Yeah, none of us noticed it at first, since… you know, being the quiet kid when he’s got seven rambunctious bigger squad-brothers isn’t a surprise, but I still remember the time Braxton gave Reidar a dozen coins and told him to hand one out to each kid he played with at the park.” The half-orc sighed, “He only gave them to us squadmates.”

I reached over the counter to give the spartan a pat, “Thanks for telling me. Is there anything I should or shouldn’t do with this?”

“Well, for starters, don’t throw it away. You’ll make an enemy of every Spartan and Spartan Recruit.”

I smiled, “And by extension the entire Logistics Corps?”

“Yep. And as far as what to do with it… umm, I’m not sure. Reidar’s probably away from home even more than me. Maybe just keep it somewhere safe? I guess it’s really up to you, just…” Varguk made a sharp inhale, “please be a good friend to Reidar.”

I nodded, noticed that a group of students was approaching, then thanked Varguk while I grabbed my food and walked outside towards the green space.

After finding a spot to sit and eat, I held up the coin in my free hand, taking the time to commit every detail of the gold-plated coin to memory. It wasn’t difficult, just Reidar’s name in bold, followed by his identification number, and then in tinier print around the edge was his squad’s number and the name Braxton. A small hole at the top gave access to the other side with its picture of an antlered deer.

“Something bothering you?”

I set down my uneaten sandwich, “Do you think I would have given any of these to my friends growing up?”

“To be honest, probably not. I had to beg you to play with the other kids after school, and only stopped when it became obvious that you were treating it more like a chore.”

I sighed, unsure why I even bothered to ask a question I already knew the answer to.

“I’m not sure if you remember, but there was also an incident the last time you invited Ryan to your house to play.”

I tucked in my legs to hug them, “I remember… they were fighting again, and didn’t even notice us opening the door.”

“Ah, rot… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dug that up.”

“It’s alright, I just… wish things would have eventually worked out, instead of just… stagnating after calling an armistice.”

“Me too buddy, me too.”

---

Snowsday, the 16th of Eighthmonth

Lancel once mentioned that one of a soldier’s greatest enemies was boredom. It could strike at any time, during a long shift, a featureless straight path on horseback, or even while fighting. That last one always seemed impossible to me. Afterall, how could risking your life while fighting monsters become routine?

I thought that maybe for our final arena matches for the semester we’d be pushed extra hard, but nope, my squad didn’t even fight a new monster today. Yes, we did have to fight four honeybadgers instead of the single one that thrashed Adrian’s squad in our first week, but even he didn’t show any hesitation as he launched [Water Bolts] like a machine.

The wet and sticky creatures fell one by one in exhaustion, covered in stone spikes from Mattius’ and my [Caltrop] spells, and in pain from constantly falling over due to the persistent barrage of Air and Water Bolts. Our Fire Mages didn’t even bother to attack with spells, opting just to throw rocks since our squad kept moving out of melee range from the monsters, and also to ensure that no one accidentally pulled a Bridget on the creatures.

Even Hector looked a tad bored today. Our post-match debrief only lasted a couple of minutes, my squad’s performance wasn’t even out of the ordinary today, and the only injury in our entire training battalion of forty-eight students today, was a sprained ankle from tripping on the arena’s steps.

Things did get interesting after our matches for today concluded.

“I need everyone who will be participating in the Fall Purge to stay for an announcement,” Hector belted out to our battalion, “everyone else is dismissed.”

Curious as to who else would be staying, I looked around and was alarmed at how nearly everyone got up to leave. Mattius and Drozuk seemed just as surprised, and even more so since I was staying as well. Aside from us three, the only others I knew semi-well were the Lakelander twins. Hector motioned us to come to the front of the arena stands after everyone else left, since there weren’t even enough students for a full squad.

“To answer your first question, mission assignments will be handed out on the 31st by Brigadier General Bassus during your scheduled drill time. As legal adults in the kingdom, you will be expected to defend it, hence the compressed basic training we’ve been providing every morning. Compressed being the keyword. A regular soldier recruit will spend three months training, twelve hours each day, and is then sent out to fight under the command of veterans with multiple years of field experience. That’s nearly triple what you’ve been receiving.”

Sir Felicity continued the speech, “As mages in training, your provisional rank in the army is Junior Mage, the lowest of the officer ranks, but that still places you above Centurions and Soldiers.” She gave everyone a stern glare, “This will be your only warning from us. Do not abuse your rank. I know some of your families have a history of military service older than the kingdom, but that doesn’t mean you personally know more than the people you will be expected to lead.”

Hector finished off the lecture, “Your assignments will likely be varied, but all of them should involve nearly daily combat under the watch of experienced Knights or Spartans. This will be your chance not just to learn from them, but from the Logistics Corps retinue and soldiers that will be accompanying you.” He finished with a big smile, “Oh, and also a chance to pick up some bonus pay while getting a head start on your first promotion after you graduate.”

---

Arc

An angry Jethro stood menacingly with crossed arms, Adrian on his left, and Bridget on his right in similar poses, “So…, when were you three going to tell us that you turned eighteen?”

The rest of the squad sat seated with their backs to the cafeteria table, all shifting nervously, Travis and Mattius both making additional nervous grins and chuckles, and Drozuk lowering his head in shame.

Travis decided to face the music first, “Umm, I was going to, but… I ended up going to the pub with Reidar to celebrate.”

“C’mon now, you can think of a better excuse than that!”

Jethro bobbed his head in thought, “Okay, I guess that’s a valid reason.”

What? No it isn’t!

Bridget nodded along, “True. It’s not like we would have been able to join you.” She then focused her attention on the other two, “Well, almost all of us. What are your excuses?”

Drozuk remained unresponsive, so Mattius spoke next, “I… didn’t want you to throw a party for me.” He shifted uncomfortably once more, “You guys are already putting your social standings at risk by associating with me. I know most nobles say they won’t judge a family as a whole, but mine’s got a lot of bad cargo due to my dad.”

Jethro ceased his intimidating stance to comfort the teen, “Even a rotten branch can fertilize the ground once it falls off.” He then jolted, “Wait, I’m not suggesting you off your dad, I’m… uh… rot…”

Bridget moved in for the save, “What he means is that every family has their problems. What matters most, is that you don’t let the rot spread to you, and that you take steps to ensure your family grows healthier in the long run.”

Jethro let out a sigh, “Thanks, that’s what I meant.”

The group then all turned to Drozuk who was still looking small, despite being the physically largest of the squad.

“Drozuk,” Travis asked, setting a hand on the orc’s shoulder, “is something wrong?”

Drozuk hesitantly voiced his thoughts, “I… turned eighteen during the last week of Fifthmonth… a few days before we…”

Travis gave the teen with tusks a comforting pat, then reached to pull in Mattius with his other hand, “What matters is that we’re friends now. How about the three of us hit up The Exotic Axe later tonight for a belated celebration? Most of the crowd clears out after nine.” A smarmy grin then plastered itself across Travis face, “Plus, they have a great opening number for the evening entertainment.”

Drozuk turned his head to Travis in surprise, “Huh, I didn’t think you were the type.”

Mattius shrugged his shoulders, “Meh, it’s always the quiet ones.”

Jethro, no doubt feeling left out, turned to Bridget and Adrian, “Well, I guess we’ll have to do something fun tonight too.”

The two shared glances, looking guilty, before Adrian finally spoke, “Umm, sorry Jethro. We already have plans.”

Jethro darted his head around, then lowered it with a sigh, “Fine… I guess I’ll just study by myself tonight.”

---

Steelsday, the 20th of Eighthmonth

Travis and the gang entered the crowded exhibition hall, excited to watch Durinn’s presentation that night, and were going over their newly acquired schedules for finals week. A certain young Elementalist Mage wasn’t very happy though…

“Ugh, I’ve got a dozen exams to take next week.”

Mattius gave Travis a pat on the back, “I feel your pain, I have ten.”

Jethro joined in on the whining, “Nine over here, and I’m only learning one element.”

Bridget, who was comparing schedules with Adrian looked up, “We both have seven.”

“Ha!” Drozuk shouted a bit too loudly in the packed hall, making the embarrassed orc lower their voice to a near whisper, “I only have six.”

That garnered some angry looks from the group, especially from Bridget, but before she could voice her protest, a human Lightning Mage approached the group (and given the density of his mana pool, was an insanely powerful one.)

“Pardon my interruption, but I noticed the rainbow stripe on your shoulder, are you Initiate Travis?”

“Umm, yes, I am.”

The stranger offered a hand, “The name’s William Raycraft, my son mentioned that I might bump into you here,” he tilted his head to see the missing item on Travis’ back, “though, he also said it’d be easy to spot you from the crowd.”

That elicited a round of light laughter at Travis’ expense, who nervously scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, I returned my poleaxe to the armory before coming here. I was a little nervous about bringing it into a crowded venue filled with dwarves.”

Raycraft leaked an annoyed grunt, “Damn, would have been nice to get a look at it. Nearly every single weapon made using aelderwood is locked up in the queen’s armory when not in use. Even I can’t get permission to have a mosey around the vault.”

“Hey, this guy is on the queen’s weapons development council, you should take this opportunity to talk to him. Military contracts can be very lucrative, and he is one of the people controlling the purse strings. I bet we can learn a lot from him, maybe even put in a good word for Durinn’s invention.”

Travis gave my pommel a scratch, “Ansel mentioned that you’re one of the people in charge of the kingdom’s weapons research; I assume that’s why you’re here?”

The senior mage groaned, “Yeah, I got stuck having to attend this year’s artificer wannabe torture session.” As if to drive the point home on how miserable his task apparently was, he pulled a flask from his breast pocket and took a swing, shocking Travis and his friends.

“Are the presentations really that boring?”

“Oh, I wish it was only that. I can handle a dull technical overview of how modifying the cone length of an inscription’s teardrop to such and such will increase efficiency by blah-blah-blah, but what I can’t stand is how every single dwarf thinks they have the next major breakthrough in artifice that’s going to change the theater of combat.” He scowled, “It amazes me that any of them can walk around given how big they must think their trunks are.”

Oof, this guy is going to be a hard sell. Jaded customers are nearly impossible to turn around if they’ve been burnt too many times. Travis might not be up for this.

Travis seemed willing to try though, “What would pique your interest?”

“For starters, something that’s actually practical to put into production for a field test. I swear, half of these dwarves act like mana crystals grow on bushes.” He took another drink from his flask, “It doesn’t even have to be a weapon. Last year, my colleague had to practically bash a few skulls in just to sign on a beardless who invented a high pressure steam shower.”

“A shower?”

William Raycraft held a hand up, “Hold on, I didn’t get to the best part. Not only was it a mostly mechanical design that needed minimal mana dust, but it could run for two hours straight before needing the inscription amped back up by a mana user, could be operated by anyone, was portable, could hook up to a water pipe or open tank, could run soap through the line with a flick of a switch, and even insulated the inscription from discharging when turned off.”

Not going to lie, that shower sounds even better than the one I had in my old universe.

A chime echoed throughout the hall, signaling the start of the next round of demonstrations.

“Finally,” William jiggled his flask, “was getting worried that I’d have to get a refill if this day kept going.”

Travis gave my pommel a scratch, “I hope Durinn’s doing okay.”

“I’ll see if I can find them.”

I sent out my focus, moving it through the crowd and over the runway to get to the staging area in the back, flying by a senior dwarf as they stepped on stage.

“Welcome to the final round of The Artificer Candidate Invention Showcase. Where applicants wishing to join the Artificer’s Guild can contribute to the field of artifice in the form of an invention. Audience members are allowed to applaud and cheer during the unveiling; however, we ask that you remain silent during the interview with the guild panel.”

My focus made it backstage, dodging the first invention to be presented…

Hold up… is that a…? No, focus Arc, find Durinn. They shouldn’t be too hard to spot amongst the other dozen bearded Metal Mages… Ah! There they are.

The dwarf was in full armor, helmet retracted, holding their invention in hand, along with a similar looking one on their back. I checked them over for signs of stress and… oof, they weren’t looking good. Their head kept darting around, feet refused to stay planted, and were breathing way too forcefully.

“Travis, I found Durinn. They’re looking nervous and could use a pep talk.”

My 360-degree vision saw Travis look around, then started tapping my handle to request help.

“If you want, I could impersonate you.”

Travis wiggled his hand above my handle.

“Oh, c’mon. I’ve personally known you for eight years now. All I got to do is nod my head and give their shoulder a pat, and they won’t know the difference.”

Travis’ hand folded up, about to rap me with his knuckles, but grimaced instead and gave my pommel a rub with his thumb.

“Don’t worry, I’ll output to both of you.” I sent out a [Message] spell, navigating it to Durinn, then channeled my inner teenager, “Durinn, what’s up bud, you’re looking majorly stressed out.”

“Travis?” Durinn spun their head to my spell, “You’re not supposed to be back here.”

“Chillax bearded, I’m out in the audience with the others, chatting up one of the top dogs with the bling-bling if you know what I mean, and telling him your invention is all that and a bag of chips.”

Knuckles started rapping on my handle, making me chuckle at Travis’ annoyance, but I ignored him since it looked like my plan had worked.

Durinn began laughing hard, bent over with hands on their knees, then finally vented out enough accumulated stress to speak, “Travis, was that even common? Those sounded like words, but they certainly didn’t string together to form a recognizable sentence.”

“That was just some slang from where I grew up, but enough about me. Are you doing okay?”

Durinn groaned, “Not really, couldn’t sleep much last night, and then this morning I found a gift in my workshop.”

“Really? Do you know from who?”

“Don’t know… I haven’t opened it yet.” Durinn reached into one of the pouches on their belt and pulled out a small box, “But, given the pink ribbon on it… I think I can make a solid guess.”

“Thramreat, huh? I was wondering about you two. You’re a lucky dwarf, what with their chiseled jawline, strong cheekbones, umm… hair that you want to run your fingers through, and… uh…”

Durinn raised an eyebrow, “You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Do you?

“Honestly, no. I tried reading a book about how dwarves work, but I think I ended up with more questions than answers.”

“Yeah, I still remember being flabbergasted during my cultural integration course before coming here at how different humans are, even when compared to elves. Had to convince a Lakelander once to let me watch them shave, since I was adamant it was some kind of collective hoax.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I keep having to stop myself from calling every single dwarf a ‘he.’”

Durinn chuckled, “Ah, don’t worry too much about that, we’ve gotten used to it. Just don’t do it intentionally.

“Thanks. So… are you going to open it?”

The bearded dwarf looked down at the gift, then sighed, “You do realize how inappropriate this is right? Thramreat could get into a lot of trouble if I report them.”

“Sounds like they thought it was worth the risk. I think you should open it.”

Durinn gritted their teeth, then closed their eyes as they held the gift as far away as possible before opening. They then peaked open an eye, then slowly brought the gift closer to inspect, “Huh… it’s just a piece of candy…”

“Is there a note?”

“Hold on… oh, there is. Durinn, had to barter with one of the rangemasters to get this, so don’t tell anyone. Take it right before you step on stage, and it should help keep you relaxed. Thramreat.”

“That really is a nice gift, a mild tranquilizer right before you knowingly do something stressful can help take off the edge.”

Durinn drooped their shoulders, “I’m not even sure why I’m stressing out. There’s no way I’m going to wow the panel or audience, especially since I’m going next. How am I supposed to follow Horset’s invention?”

“Umm, they’re not doing as well as you’d think…”

Actually, I might be understating the opening presentation’s reception…

The bearded showman started off strong, using their Light Mana to control the lighting and obscure their invention at the back of the stage, then spoke like a tech executive unveiling a new product.

“Beards and beardless, ladies and gentlemen, every era is defined by the artifice innovations that revolutionize the way we live. From the humble [Stonebreaker Edge] inscription that built our tunnels, to the machine lathe that upturned eras of traditional blacksmithing practices.”

William Raycraft let out a deep sigh as he pulled another drag from his flask and elbowed Travis, “I think I’ve heard this exact same speech a dozen times already today.”

Travis narrowed his eyes at the presenting dwarf, as they kept hyping up the crowd, “If their invention is that amazing, then shouldn’t they have gone to the Artificer’s Guild directly?”

“Exactly.” The weapons developer commented, then jiggled their flask and frowned, first at the vessel, then at the dwarf with the massive ego.

“A machine that will forever change not only how we transport troops and supplies, but how we fight monsters.” The bearded dwarf inhaled, extending a hand to the elephant-sized object hidden under a cloak of Shadow Mana, “I give you, the Self-Propelled Armored Transport!”

An avalanche of applause echoed throughout the exhibition hall as the Shadow Mana dispersed to reveal the magitech humvee being driven forward by a beardless assistant. The thing was quite impressive, with a heavy-duty steel frame, ceramic plating, steel wheels, and a roof hatch. I barely knew how to change the oil in my truck back in my old world, so I couldn’t comment on the engine, but if the large number of mana crystals inside was any indication, then this thing must have some serious horsepower.

“Capable of outpacing a Cavalry Horse, able to withstand a blow from a charging thunderhead, and comfortable seating for five fully armored orcs. This vehicle is capable of quickly delivering a team of mana users to the frontline, even allowing the center-rear passenger to pop out of the top to cast ranged spells while on the move.”

The dwarf continued to go over the features before the panel of skeptical looking judges (one of whom included the Quartermaster), but it didn’t look like they and Raycraft were remotely as impressed as the audience.

The senior Lightning Mage tipped back their head to finish off their flask, “Well, this year’s officially a wash, and… I’m out of creekwater.” He turned to give Travis a pat on the back, “It was nice meeting you Travis, you’ll have to come visit the estate sometime.”

“You’re leaving?”

“This was the only invention I heard any good buzz about before coming here. Rot, I’ll be shocked if they even let the bearded into the guild after wasting so many mana crystals.” Raycraft began to turn, but then was stopped by Travis grabbing onto his arm.

“Wait, at least stay for my friend’s presentation, they’re up next. They have an Assisted [Fire Arrow] Launcher that I know will be of interest to you.”

William sighed, then let out in an annoyed tone, “If it’s just a fancy weapon inscription, I’m sure I’ll see it on my desk at some point this winter.”

“No, it’s more than that, it’s…” Travis stumbled to think of a strong reason, and began tapping my handle to request help.

“That line of reasoning won’t work; you’ll need to convince them to stay some other way… I mentally died a little inside as I came up with an idea, “I’ve got a suggestion.”

Travis listened in, then bowed his head in defeat, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” He paused to let the older man turn, but then interrupted once more, “Wait! You said you wanted me to come visit? I might have time next week if Ansel invites me, but it would be a shame if I were to visit while you weren’t there.”

William Raycraft made a knowing grin, “Let me guess, it should only take until the next presentation finishes to compare schedules?”

“Well,” Travis grinned back, “I am taking twelve exams next week, then going on a Fall Expedition the week after, I’d hate for you to miss your chance to get a look at my poleaxe.”

“Ugh, twelve exams?” They shook their head, “It might legitimately take us that long to compare schedules. Let me just [Message] Ansel real quick, and hopefully we can find a date.”

Backstage, Durinn was directed to stand behind a sound barrier stage-left and was looking queasy.

“I think I’d rather wrestle a sunbeaver naked than step out there.”

“I brought my adventure novel. Would you rather read that out loud?”

Durinn groaned, “No, I guess not.” They fumbled with their invention, “It’s just… what if the crowd hates my invention? I heard everyone applauding Horset’s giant invention that they’ve been teasing everyone about all month, and I’m positive the panel is drooling over the thing right now.”

“First off, the crowd is a bunch of idiots who think that just because something is shiny, it’s the bee’s knees. The only people you need to impress are the panel and the one’s itching to hand out military contracts. Case in point, your buddy Horset, who by the way, is not enjoying the harsh slap of reality.”

I began outputting the questionnaire portion of the presentation that Horset was currently blowing.

“So, what you meant to say is that it can only transport three fighters to the frontline? Given that the inefficiency of the motor requires two average knights to power it.” The leftmost judge declared, “Also, is this supposed to act as a replacement for Cavalry Regiments? Because I’m seeing quite a few problems that haven’t been addressed.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” The inner-left judge shouted, “Are we not going to address the duck in the room? That thing has enough mana crystals to equip a squad of Knights! And this thing can’t even transport a full squad of twelve. So, now we need three or four of these just to replace a team of horses?”

Horset began to sweat nervously, “Well… yes it is expensive… but… it is fast. And…”

“How exactly is it supposed to navigate the field of corpses? You haven’t spoken once about this thing’s ability to handle obstacles. Or how you expect monsters to patiently wait for the transported knights to exit the vehicle.”

The Quartermaster added to the pile of questions, “How many Spring Floods have you fought in youngling? Response times for specialist teams have been already drastically reduced over the last era thanks to the human kingdom’s growing number of knights, and now that Messaging inscriptions are standard for all mana users, it’s common for a team to be lying in wait with an ambush once the spotted dragon enters the designated kill-zone. It seems to me that you’ve solved a nonexistent problem with an inconvenient alternative.”

Horset kept stammering, and tried to come up with responses, but in the end was denied acceptance into the guild. Two of the judges on the panel even ordered Horset’s mentor to come over and explain why their protégé was hell-bent on angering the Equine Union.

Durinn began to chuckle as they listened in on the verbal beatdown, then reached into their pouch to pull out Thramreat’s gift, “Thanks for helping me Travis.” They popped the mild tranquilizer into their mouth, “And not just on my public speaking, but for reminding me why I created this in the first place.”

The dejected Horset exited stage-right with their invention, allowing Durinn to walk forward towards the end of the catwalk. They took a couple of slow, deep breaths to settle the butterflies in their stomach, and then began.

“Hello, this is my invention, The Assisted [Fire Arrow] Spell Launcher.” Durinn spun a full 180, crouching down into a kneel, then launched a [Fire Arrow] at the reinforced back wall, creating audible gasps from the audience.

Durinn stood back up, then turned around to face the crowd, pausing to take a few more deep breaths and remember their next line, “Unlike a standard [Fire Arrow] inscription that must conform to the weapon it’s being applied to, this has the housing conforming to the inscription.”

They paused once more, clearly forgetting their next line, and pulled out a set of notecards to quickly shuffle through.

“This provides many benefits; easier maintenance, better efficiency, more damage output, and can even act as a teaching aid.”

Durinn took another deep breath, then switched to their next cue card, “But those are only side benefits.” Durinn paused once more, closed their eyes, then gulped, “I’m different from the average dwarf. Unlike my classmates who could easily pick up the elves style of ranged spellcraft, I was, and still am, built more like a human.”

The exhibition hall quieted, causing the dwarf to tremble, but they kept going.

“As a result, mana reinforcement was so simple for me to learn, that I was placed in the human’s Morning Drill instruction upon entry to this academy and had to struggle alongside them to learn ranged magic. Even to this day, seven years after graduating, I still struggle with casting ranged spells. The sensation feels as if I’m pulling a beard hair off my face each time my synced mana detaches from my membrane.”

Groans of sympathetic pain could be heard from the bearded in the audience, even within the panel, and seemed to give Durinn a small confidence boost.

“This weapon provides a fix for my condition. A synthetic mana channel, composed of high amperage mana dust embedded into a wire, helps draw synced mana away from my body, and towards the inscription. Shaving the mana off instead of forcibly ripping it out.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Oohs, and awes could be heard from the crowd, and even William Raycraft was impressed.

“Oh, I see what you mean Travis. This actually looks feasible for a test run.” They pulled out a notepad from their pouch, “I’ll be sure to order a dozen from the guild this winter.”

Durinn’s demonstration concluded, and they stepped closer to the panel to answer questions.

Up first was the right-most judge, “How did you address the degradation issue that often arises when inverting the housing?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention that part.” Durinn scrambled to point out the mechanical trigger mechanism, “The array line that acts as the main pipeline between the payload and repulsion array only connects when this trigger is pulled. This also opens the shutter to allow the spell to exit, and the resulting vacuum not only closes the shutter, but prevents ambient mana from entering.”

The judges all nodded, looking impressed. Well… four of the five. The Quartermaster was keeping their face neutral.

The second-to-the-right judge went next, “Would it be possible to downsize this invention to a [Fire Bolt] inscription instead?”

“Yes, but the material cost in mana dust would still far exceed that of a gauntlet inscription.” Durinn admitted. “Though the size would shrink down considerably, about to the size and weight of a smithing hammer, so there may be some value as a vanity artifice or training aid.”

Nods and shrugs from the panel were shared, but again, the Quartermaster was seemingly unimpressed. It was their turn to ask a question though, and they grinned evilly before speaking.

“The manufacturing costs and amount of mana dust and crystals needed to create just one of these will be outrageous. For the same amount of materials, and combined manufacturing time, you could create a half-dozen weapon inscriptions. How do you justify the cost?”

The rest of the panel grimaced, looking up at the… smiling dwarf?

Durinn chuckled, looking like they hadn’t a care in the world, and making me worry that Thramreat gave too strong a tranquilizer, “This is technically the frugal option.”

They set down their launcher, then walked partway back down the catwalk before detaching the weapon from their back. I moved my focus in to get a better look at the wire that connected the weapon to their backplate as they set it upright on the stage, then returned to the judges, spooling out a trail of wire behind them.

“This here is the Remote [Fire Missile] Launcher. By using this mana dust-infused wire, I can have my synced mana follow the line to the launcher. Granted, it’s not as fast as casting one regularly, but it does come with the benefit of not only needing little concentration to form the complicated spell formation, but also allows me to create said formation even while yards away. A feat I’m told is difficult for even experienced elven spell casters to accomplish.”

William Raycraft set a now sober hand on Travis, “Travis, it was a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for bullying me into staying. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to point a spear to the backs of those judges.” He then rushed through the crowd, shoving aside anyone too slow to move.

A half-hour later, and Durinn was finally allowed to enter the exhibition hall and give Travis a hug. He in turn extended a hand after separating, “Artificer Durinn, congratulations.”

---

Travis

Rocksday, the 21st of Eighthmonth

“Initiate Travis, front and center with your gear. Double time.” Hector ordered over the battalion’s Messaging channel.

Able to hear the urgency in his voice, I quickly tossed my poleaxe on my back in the 11 o’clock position, then my backpack, my shield, and finally sprinted across the muddy training yard to where a Royal Knight was speaking to my drill instructors.

Sir Felicity was looking furious at the knight, “You couldn’t have given us a heads up?”

“I’m sorry Sir, but we only received the change in schedule this morning.”

She huffed, turned to give me an exasperated glance, then addressed Hector right as I saluted the two, “Get him cleaned up, he’s filthy. I’ll take over here.”

Hector nodded, then gestured for me to follow him and the Royal Knight at an alarming speed towards the armory. Growing worried, I gave Arc’s pommel a scratch.

“You’re not in trouble, but… umm… sorry, I’m probably not going to be able to help you out with this situation. Just do your best to stay calm.”

Once we stepped through the tall archway of the armory, all pretense was dropped when Hector spun on his heel and spoke in a dead serious tone, “Travis, go fetch your formal arming jacket, we need to get you presentable.”

Now a tad scared, my voice cracked as I spoke, “Sir, it’s… upstairs in my room…”

Hector groaned, then gave me a not so gentle push towards the door to the dormitory, “Move it! We need to get to the arena six minutes ago.”

In his rush however, he failed to take into account how much shorter that doorway was compared to the last one.

Whack! The spike end of my poleaxe hit the doorframe, and I immediately fell onto my back with a loud thud.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to warn you.”

I groaned in pain as I was suddenly lifted back onto my feet by the pair of knights, then had the gear on my back forcibly stripped while I recovered from the shock. No apologies were uttered though, and I was quickly pushed forward again through the door and towards my room.

What followed was a near repeat of the time I got ready to meet Seleyna for the shadow show. Hector and the knight both wordlessly took my armor off, then stripped my clothing before the knight rushed me into the bathroom to wash away my morning stink and mud. One aggressive scrub later, and I was already putting on a fresh set of underclothes Hector grabbed from my room while the Royal Knight gave my armor a quick clean and polish. Another minute later and we were already out the door of my room, formal arming jacket on, and fully armored with my poleaxe in hand.

The three of us started walking towards the arena in a fast march, but suddenly stopped when the Royal Knight held up a fist with his left hand and held the other to his helmet, “There’s been a delay, she hasn’t arrived.”

The two knights sighed in relief, frustrating me further, and finally expending the last of my patience, “Permission to speak sir?”

Hector turned to me, looking embarrassed, “Right, I suppose we have time now.” He gestured to the Royal Knight.

“Initiate Travis, I am Royal Knight Tracy, Envoy of the Queen. There’s been a diplomatic dispute over you receiving the title of Elementalist Mage. As a result, instead of taking four separate practical exams for your elemental magic courses, you will be subject to a public assessment before the Queen and ambassadors from the elven and dwarven kingdoms.”

Oh, rot… I knew I’d end up meeting the queen someday, but…

A hand shook my shoulder, “Travis, I need you to stay with me.”

I snapped back to attention, looking up at Hector’s worried face, “Sorry, was… not expecting this… this morning.”

My drill instructor shook his head, “From the sound of it, no one was.” He gave my shoulder a pat, “Let’s keep walking, Sir Tracy will prepare you.”

The Royal Knight followed beside me, “You’ve met Princess Seleyna multiple times now, and the protocol for the queen is mostly similar.” He set his hand on my helmet, “I’m syncing your private channel to mine since we don’t have enough time for instruction. Do as I tell you, do not speak unless asked a question, and you’ll be fine for the most part. You won’t speak to her unless you pass your test, so just focus on that first.”

Hector gave my shoulder another pat, “I’ve been hearing nothing but praise from your instructors, and you’re currently one of the top ranked students in your battalion for combat exercises. I have no doubts that you can do this.”

“Exactly, you got this bud.”

I let out a deep exhale as we entered the arena. It sadly didn’t help much, so I opted for a distraction from my possible impending doom, “One of the top ranked? Who’s first?”

Hector chuckled, giving my shoulder a gentle shake, “Your friend Mattius is currently in first, with Jethro right behind. You’re in a three-way tie for third right now with the Creeksmith twins.”

“Really? I figured I was doing okay, but not that good. I’m far from competent with my sword.”

“Now that you’ve gotten your feet wet with live combat, I’m sure you’ve noticed that the fights aren’t actually all that difficult, especially once you kids started to reliably hit with Bolt spells. Storms, an average squad of soldiers could win any one of your matches without taking injury. The only thing we’re truly scoring is adaptability and responsiveness, and that’s mostly just to make sure us drill instructors are doing our jobs.”

The Royal Knight brought his hand back up to his helmet and led us towards the staging room. The noise of over a dozen people could be heard before entering, but my Wind Spells 1 teacher’s voice sounded out the loudest.

“And then, after witnessing the most knightly looking future knight to ever get knighted blast apart not just the target, but the ironwood post holding it, he shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘I thought it was a trick question, just attacking a target with spells seemed too simple.’”

Raucous laughter erupted from the crowd of elves and dwarves, which included my elemental magic teachers, my Artifice professor, and instructor for Mana Manipulation.

Professor Quinsandoral saw me entering, grinned like a farmer bringing in a bumper crop, and then forcibly pulled me away from my escorts to introduce me to the crowd.

“Travis, you already know your professors… these are the other seven heads for elemental mana, don’t worry, you can properly meet them some other time…” He directed my attention to a bearded dwarf in a black robe with white trimming and a Sea Elf wearing a colorful full-body sarong, “These are the only two you need to concern yourself with today.”

The gold and silver-haired dwarf extended a hand, “Avem Sandgust, Archmagus of the Dust Mages’ Guild.” They turned to Professor Quinsandoral, “I thought you said he was one of those dirt-stomper humans?”

“No, that’s the one I originally asked you to come meet, this one’s that Lakelander I was going to possibly introduce to you as well before this whole debacle happened.”

“Lakelander?” The Dust Mage narrowed their eyes at me, turning their face into an entire irrigation system of wrinkles, “I thought that breed’s males grew beards?”

Quinsandoral made a frustrated groan, “When they reach maturity, you old brick, and even then, many of them choose to shave.”

The bearded dwarf instinctively stepped away from me out of horror, holding their hands up to their braided beard, and triggering that annoying twinge in the back of my mind every time I was reminded about my lack of beard growth.

My instructor shook their head at the dwarf’s reaction, “You need to stop sequestering yourself down in that labyrinth you call a burrow. Your assistant was shocked that they were even able to find you the other day. Do you even glance at the event invitations stuffed in your mailbox?”

“I do from time to time,” the bearded spoke in an evasive tone, fidgeting with one of the bead artifices in their beard, “I was surface side for a whole week during the Human Queen’s coronation celebrations not that long ago.”

“That was two calendar cycles ago!” The Sea Elf interjected.

“Did I say human? I meant uh, elvish…”

The two elves stared in bewilderment at the dwarf, reminding me of how I was essentially a toddler compared to these three in age. Rot, I don’t think Gramps was even alive yet when the elven High King got married.

The brown-skinned elf eventually shook off her shock and extended a hand towards me, “Elementalist Archmage, Maeralya Inazorwyn. I’ll be adjudicating your practical exam today.”

I shook her hand, “Travis of Aelder Creek, Initiate Elementalist Mage.”

Her rainbow-colored eyes peered down at me, then towards my poleaxe mounted on my back, “We’ll have to see about that. I’m not entirely convinced that Evindal here hasn’t gone native.”

My professor crossed their arms and grinned, “Oh, Maeralya, I’m disappointed in you. Surely by now you’ve learned not to question my judgement?”

The two’s impending argument was cut short by the Royal Knight’s voice booming over the crowd, “Queen Claudette and the delegations from the Elven and Dwarven Kingdoms have arrived. Anyone wishing to view the assessment will need to take a seat in the stands.”

The room began to clear, until it was just me, the Royal Knight, Professor Quinsandoral and his dwarven friend, Hector, and the Elementalist Archmage left in the room.

Quinsandoral gave my back a pat, “Good luck Travis, not that you’ll need it, but it would be entertaining to see you exceed even my expectations.” He then started walking out with the Dust Mage, but the dwarf stopped to give me a second glance.

The bearded thumbed one of the black beads in their braided beard, “Maeralaya, does the youngling need to carry a weapon for this test?”

“No, but I was informed that he built a mana scale into that… thing on his back. So, he will need it.”

“Oh, right, I guess I was more worried about the sword he’s carrying, since he won’t be able to cast spells with it.” They gave me a wink, then turned to leave for the stands with Professor Quinsandoral.

Before I could parse the dwarf’s words, the Royal Knight held his hand up to his helmet and spoke, “They’re ready to begin the test.” He turned his head towards me, “Hector and I will flank you as we enter the arena. We’ll march onto the platform, then turn and bow to the private booth on the north side. You’ll then begin your test.”

I nodded, gave Arc a quick scratch to vent some of my anxiety, then took a big breath as the doors to the arena opened.

The four of us began to walk out onto the dynamic field, the layout today being a completely new one, but still familiar looking. The simulated ravelin was smaller than the ones I’d seen in the star fortresses that Lancel and I visited on our way here to the capital, but it still had all the important features. A sharp, but still climbable, slope led up to the arrowhead-shaped walls, providing cover for anyone not standing on the battlements. Rectangular stone walls with gaps, indentations, and murder-holes lined the outside edge, and a level platform for artillery in the middle was present, though it was currently cleared off.

We marched up the slope and towards the platform, with me finding the quiet arena unsettling. Once I finished walking in step with Hector and the Royal Knight, I mimicked them as they bowed towards the private booth located at the top of the arena’s outside wall.

“You may proceed with the first phase of the test.” The Royal Knight instructed, then whispered over my private Messaging channel, “Just a heads up, they have magnification windows and [Remote Ear] spells set up. So, try not to pick your nose, or verbally cuss, or some other nasty habit that you wouldn’t do if the queen was standing right next to you.”

Perfect, the queen should be able to clearly see me quivering in fear.

My Sea Elf exam proctor clapped her hands, “Alright, let’s get started. Your first task is to Message that elf in the stands holding the blue flag and speak the word ‘turtle’. You will then speak their response to me.

I nodded, then wordlessly cast [Message] and sent the spell across the entire arena, needing to strain my eyes just to make sure my spell reached the flag carrier.

“Hawk.”

She nodded, “Good, now I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs in six seconds, set up a [Sound Barrier] to suppress it.”

I hastily raised my hands and shaped a small double-layered dome of Air Mana around her head, then shifted the mana into a pair of 20-sided wire-frame icosahedrons, creating a small vacuum of air between the formations before the mage could open her mouth and belt out a silent scream.

The rest of the tests started moving by quickly, my nerves calming after completing each spell, and then moved on to Fire Spells. I demonstrated [Bonfire], a candle-sized [Fire Orb], [Fire Aura], and a few other utility spells. Water spells were next, and I was asked to move water from one barrel to the other using only the maze of pipes that were connected to them, make a small ingot of dwarven steel float using enchantment, remove the dirt and grime off a set of armor, and then a couple more minor tasks.

The last portion of my utility spells segment was to repair one of the battlements. I started by using [Earth Slide] to pull the top half onto the walkway, channeled my synced Earth Mana around the broken bricks to cleave them free, mortared in fresh bricks from a nearby pile, then finished by sliding the battlement back into place and repairing the broken bricks.

“That concludes the utility portion.” My exam proctor announced, then turned to the Royal Knight, “Are we ready for the offensive spells portion?”

“One moment,” the knight tilted their head towards the private booth, that had somehow been sneakily crawling along the outer rim of the arena towards where the ravelin was pointing, “the queen wishes to get a better view.”

The four of us watch the booth slowly work its way, allowing me to grab a drink of water from my canteen, and for Hector to give my pauldron a pat, “You’re doing great. Any knight capable of demonstrating what you just did is automatically promoted to Lieutenant, and already has their foot in the door to earn Captain when they turn twenty-four.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Really? I know knights prefer to use inscriptions for offensive spells, but I figured they’d still learn first-year utility spells for each element.”

“It usually takes longer for us knights to learn spells, mainly because after hitting eighteen, the odds of a human retaining their affinity starts to sharply drop until they hit thirty, when it finally drops to zero. Then when you add in the fact that you can be as dumb as a rock, yet still be able to use mana reinforcement, don’t often need to use any utility spell other than [Message] in the field, can just pay for a spell inscription by going on a few combat tours, and you end up with a bunch of lazy cloud-headed knights who can’t tell the difference between a bison and a buffalo.”

The memory of Lancel putting on his horse’s saddle backwards one morning, despite his mount constantly trying to get his attention, resurfaced in my mind.

Yeah…, that’s not too surprising now that I think about it.

The private booth containing the queen and other foreign dignitaries stopped moving, and after receiving the go ahead from the Royal Knight, the Elementalist Archmage led me up to a battlement so I could view the target range.

“Each one of those painted wood, straw, or stone targets represents a monster you must kill using a corresponding Bolt spell. Red for Fire, Yellow for Rock, Blue for Water, and Light Grey for Wind. Hitting an unpainted one will not penalize you, but I’d recommend conserving your mana. You will be given twelve minutes, starting when you launch your first spell, to eliminate as many targets as possible. You may begin when ready.”

I gave her a nod, then began syncing my internal mana with the mana in my poleaxe, feeling the connection grow like a third arm out of my back as I raised the mana to match mine, and slowly rooted its way towards the four mana scales. Once the connection was made, I compared the pulse rate of my mana pool with the inscriptions, then grinned at how my internal mana was only at the third or fourth note on my scale. Looks like there’s a benefit to skipping morning drill.

Orb spells of all four elements started to form around me as I analyzed the challenge I’d have to face, and I did a doubletake. The targets were moving, sliding across the ground via [Earth Slide] in easy to predict patterns, and at a very… slow… crawl…

Okay, stay calm, they’re probably just pulling an Arc on you, and will up the speed as you eliminate targets. The test hasn’t started yet, so let’s quickly calculate in my elevated height so I don’t aim too high with Water and Rock Bolt, and…

My hand raises as I decide on my first target, a straw one painted red, then close it into a fist, launching the [Fire Bolt] through the air until it slams into the center of mass, engulfing the entire thing in flames. Now on a timer, I spot my next target, launch a [Water Bolt] at it, paying attention to see if my math was correct, then move onto the next after confirming the hit.

I keep casting Bolt after Bolt, pausing only to find another target or confirm that the movement speed was increasing. My internal mana begins to ramp up, reaching the fifth note on my scale, then the sixth, the seventh, the eighth…

A deep growl escapes me. The last of the painted targets keep getting harder and harder to spot. What at first was only a few heartbeats before finding the next target is now turning into agonizingly long seconds. I launch another [Rock Bolt], this time at the edge of my casting range, and only manage to break off a corner of the stone target. Rot! I should have waited for it to get closer.

An armored gauntlet sets down on my shoulder, violently startling me, and I almost instinctually converted the Orb spells floating around me into Blast spells. Luckily, I completely freeze at the sight of the bearded freak of nature Packer, making me instead gasp for air after my heart starts beating again.

“Sorry about that, but the test is over.” Hector smiles at me, “I tried to get your attention, but you were a bit too focused on raining down divine wrath like an angry Chosen to notice.”

I look around as my breathing finally begins to calm, seeing a laughing Royal Knight approach, but no exam proctor, “Where’d she go?”

The Royal Knight clapped me on the shoulder, “She stormed off after the first couple of minutes, ranting something about how those dwarves weren’t supposed to move the targets that fast or erratically.” He let out another chuckle, “I think it’s safe to say you passed.”

---

My stomach began to protest its lack of food while we sat in a private waiting room before meeting the queen. Hector was taking the time to taunt me with his beard once again, combing oil into it to ensure each strand was softened, then finished making himself presentable by brushing it until his entire beard flowed like a waterfall off his chin. Royal Knight… Tracy sat by the door, helmet still on, and chuckling as he listened in on the private Messaging channels he had access to.

“Well, that was fun to watch. Those rangemasters need to up their game though. Their movement patterns were way too predictable, and you only outright missed three targets.”

I smirked as I gave Arc a scratch in his favorite spot. If he hadn’t been pushing me with his Light and Shadow creations during my private range time, I definitely wouldn’t have performed nearly as well. He started making that comforting canine purr as I sunk back in my chair to try and ignore my angry stomach, then checked the time.

“It’s not even 11?” I groaned, tilting my head back, and muttering curses to Apheros under my breath.

Hector turned to see my sorry state, then nabbed the attention of… Tracy, “Want to see something even more shocking?”

“Ok, we need to add ‘find an alternative way to communicate’ to the quest log. I’m not going to be able to whisper the queen’s name to you on repeat.”

Sir Tracy looked up with a grin, “Sure.”

“You got a Mana Rich Edible on you for the kid?”

He tilted his head in confusion, but still reached into one of his pouches to toss me a wrapped MRE.

Taking back my curses to Apheros, and now mentally singing his praises for this tiny miracle, I bit into the layered multi-color bar, enjoying the waxy texture and buttery taste of cream cheese, garlic sausage, pickles, and carrots.

Hector belted out a laugh as an audible gasp escaped from the Royal Knight, but I couldn’t care less about their reactions. My stomach was calming down, so that’s all that truly mattered.

Sir Tracy suddenly brought his hand up to his helmet, then gave his head a nod, “Alright, the foreign ambassadors and royal court have left. The queen will see us now.”

I got up, dusted off the crumbs from my MRE, then followed the Royal Knight and Hector down the hall and into the room where the queen, a squad of Royal Knights, and Seleyna were standing. The three of us immediately took a knee, shoulders squared, and heads facing the queen as Sir Tracy announced us.

“Queen Claudette, I present to you Travis of Aelder Creek and Sir Hector Hopkins.”

The queen was certainly Seleyna’s mother, with her matching blonde hair, and large monolid blue-grey eyes, though her skin tone was much darker, looking more like a Packer’s glossy bronze.

She nodded at the three of us, “Thank you Sir Tracy, you all may rise.”

I stood up with the others, remembering Arc’s coaching to retract my scapulas and flex my abdominals to ensure proper posture.

“Travis, I offer you my apologies for disrupting your studies here, and on such short notice. There were… many complaints and accusations that I felt necessary to silence before they were allowed to fester.” She gestured to Seleyna, who was holding a decorative box, “As a token of my appreciation for your patience in this matter, I offer you this Message Stone. Sir Tracy holds its twin, so should you find yourself in need of royal assistance or advisement, you may contact him at your leisure.”

Seleyna handed me the box with a smile, tapping the side of it with a finger, and sneaking me a wink.

Queen Claudette turned her head to one of her Royal Knights, received a nod from her, then turned back, “I’ll not take any more of your precious time. May the gods smile on you Travis, and show you favor.”

A hand pressed on my back, signaling me to bow, then after catching Tracy tilt his head towards the door, followed him out of the room.

We walked down the hallway and reentered the waiting room to decompress after the momentous encounter. I stood there, breathing heavily, before remembering there were chairs, and collapsed into one.

Hector let out a deep sigh after joining me in one of the chairs, then looked up towards the Royal Knight, “Does it ever get easier?”

He smiled, “Once you witness a royal slip in the mud after dismounting their horse, much of the mystique is lost.” He then gestured to the box I held, “That artifice costs a small fortune, I strongly advise you not to lose it.”

I nodded, not needing to be told twice, then opened the lid on the box. Inside was a polished orb of green granite, wrapped in a piece of silk.

“So… this allows me to sync my private Messaging channel to yours?”

“Yes, Princess Seleyna suggested this gift, saying that you were having difficulty navigating noble decorum, and that you may appreciate it.”

I grinned, “So, for example, if I accidentally turn down an invite to a princess’ eighteenth birthday party, I can use this to ask for advice on how to fix my mistake?”

Sir Tracy chuckled, “You certainly can. There is also some worry that you may become the target of certain noble families, now that their assumptions that you were going to fail here have been extinguished. Should you find yourself in trouble, call for assistance, I’ll be able to provide aid both directly and indirectly.”

I closed the box, then frowned after spotting the time, “Ugh, do I need to report back to drill?”

Hector waved me off, “No. In fact, I order you to return to your dorm and relax before lunch, you’ve certainly earned it.”

I stood, saluted the unmoving Packer, then turned to the Royal Knight, “Umm, is there a preferred time for me to Message you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “From what I’ve gathered, you’re the one with the hectic schedule. If you’d like, we can set up a weekly time to talk.”

I nodded, feeling exhausted, then left the room to go lie down on my bed. A few minutes later, I was about to do just that, setting the box on my desk, propping my poleaxe against the wall, and collapsed in a heap, armor and all.

“Hey, before you fall asleep, could you check the box Seleyna gave you? There’s something hidden underneath the Message Stone.”

Curious, I leaned over to grab the box, then pulled out the stone and silk cloth to see a tiny silver earing and written note on the bottom.

Travis,

Sorry for the belated birthday gift, but it would cause a giant stink if I openly gave this to you. This earring has a tiny speaker inscription for [Message], and lasts up to two hours when synced. This should pair nicely with the gift my mother gave you, so I hope you enjoy.

Seleyna

P.S. - I’d appreciate you not wearing this until you leave for your Fall Expedition. You’ll draw attention to yourself and raise questions as to how you could afford such a thing.

I smiled as I inspected the earring with my mana sight. The housing must be pure silver given the amount of Metal Mana in it, and it looked like the inscription was made using tiny mana gem slivers instead of purely dust. There wasn’t any decoration, unless you counted the contours from the cone and inscription cap, but I didn’t care. It was an amazing gift.

“This thing’s perfect! Now I can talk to you all the time!”

Oh, rot… maybe not that great…

---

Arc

Woodsday, the 22nd of Eighthmonth

Travis grunted as he rode his nameless horse to Adamanrion’s church, focusing like a powerlifter attempting a personal best as more and more of his mana synced with his poleaxe. I could see the concentrated Earth Mana in his bones ramp up first to accommodate the high volume of Metal and Wood Mana needed for the weapon as he kept going, eventually fully attuning to the entire thing, and letting out a deep breath as he tried to relax his now tense body..

“What does it feel like?”

“Strange. My poleaxe feels lighter, but I can tell the mass hasn’t changed. My body feels heavier, like I just overate, but my stomach isn’t bloated. And… hmm, when I initially sync with it, I feel phantom pains, like my poleaxe is inserting itself into my flesh.”

“I guess that explains why classes have you only use attunement on smaller objects for now. I assume once your mana pool grows, it won’t feel as intrusive.”

“Yeah, this thing still uses most of my Earth Mana,” Travis paused to twist in his saddle and roll his shoulders, “I might be able to cast [Earth Cleat] now with it though, so I’m getting there.”

“Perfect. Sounds like you’ll be more than ready for classes next semester. From what I’ve overheard, there’ll be a bigger focus on dwarven spellcasting.”

Travis nodded along as we approached the church, “That’ll be nice, casting ranged spells like an elf isn’t too bad for efficiency if I can keep switching mana types, but if I need to focus on a single element to capitalize on a monster’s weakness, I won’t have the endurance to fight for long.” He dismounted his horse, letting it go do its creepy cult worship at the horse shrine, then gave my pommel a rub, “So, are you nervous?”

“To be honest, no. I’m terrified. Especially with you needing to speak for me.”

Travis kept caressing my pommel, the warm touch reducing my anxiety, but instead of delivering calm, guilt was taking hold.

“Travis, do you… ever regret meeting me? If I hadn’t tried to console you that one day, you wouldn’t be exiled from your village, forced to mingle with scheming nobles, or even getting involved with gods.”

He stopped walking, turning his head to look down at me, “No, if anything, I feel undeserving. Everyone keeps going on about how I’m a gifted savant since they don’t know you’ve been tutoring me, I’ve met royalty and other influential figures despite being a farmer’s son, and I received a blessing from a god for some seemingly unknown reason as well.” He let out a deep sigh, giving my pommel a pat, “You know, I thought that if I could learn magic, that my life would become exciting, and that I’d get to see the world.” A smirk grew across his face, “Guess I underestimated the exciting part.”

We both chuckled, and I felt my guilt dissipate as we made our way to the Altar of Rebirth.

“Oh, I forgot to ask, why did you bring your poleaxe?”

Travis grinned, “I told the cleric that I’d bring it next time I visited. Don’t you remember?”

“Did you? I kinda zoned out after you two kept talking about your poleaxe, ignoring the reason for meeting, and barely remembered to add me to the sword registry before you had to leave.”

We entered the room with the altar, and after ensuring no one was present, Travis approached the large helmet, “Blessed Adamanrion, we have come at your request to complete the exchanging of favors. We beseech thee to—"

Orange Metal Mana floods into the shrine’s helmet as Travis continues his prayer, and it soon begins to pulse.

Arcane! I had a feeling you and your paladin would be stopping by soon. Thanks a bunch for helping out Durinnsognir. Oh, by the way, can you tell Travis that he doesn’t need to be so formal? Addy’s fine.

“Uh, Travis… they’re here… you can stop talking. Also… they want you to cool it with the formalities, so… feel free to call them Addy.”

Travis looks at the altar with his mana sight, gives me the side-eye, then awkwardly speaks, “Hello… Addy, nice to… umm… well, I guess not see you, but… be in your presence?”

Much better. Now, don’t worry Arcane, I’ve done this plenty of times. I just need your paladin to set his hand on my altar’s helmet so I can transfer my blessing, and we’ll get this transaction taken care of.

Oh… okay…

“Travis, sounds like we don’t get to choose, they want you to set your hand on the helmet and receive their blessing.”

Travis looks down at me, looking uneasy, but slowly moves forward, raising his hand.

Now, just a fair warning, it won’t be instant, but this blessing will kick in pretty fast. I recommend eating lots of shellfish, oiling every couple of hours, and using hot towels to keep the initial itch from driving him insane.

What are they…?

“Wait! Stop!” Travis freezes, hand only a few inches away, “I think there’s been a communication problem. You don’t need their blessing.”

Travis recedes his hand, then looks down at me confused, “Umm, ok… why don’t I want their blessing?”

“Not important, it’s definitely something you don’t need. Let’s just uh… take a couple of steps back, just to be safe, and uh… see if we can get that Q&A session.”

Travis, unfortunately, doesn’t move. He instead narrows his eyes at me, “Why? What would that blessing have done?”

“Not important, let’s just… uh, not do anything rash.”

His eyes sharpen in their intensity, and instead of speaking, Travis lifts his hand back up and slowly moves it towards the helmet, leaking out an evil grin.

“OK-ok-ok-ok! The blessing will give you a full beard overnight.”

Travis’ drops the mischievous look, then slowly turns his head to see his hand that was only inches away from the helmet. His face soon grimaces in pain, eyes clearly broadcasting intense want.

“Travis, no. Your beard is coming in. You do not need divine intervention.”

“But… but…” Travis pleads, breathing heavily as his hand trembles, “this would count as proof right?”

“Yes, but… we both agreed to ask for the Q&A session first.”

Travis pouts one more time before reluctantly lowering his hand. His head droops, and can barely mutter out loud, “Sorry, but Arc and I were hoping to ask for a Q&A session. There is much we both don’t know… and we can think of no greater gift than your divine knowledge.”

Really? Ah… I’m flattered. Usually everyone just wants a beard, or the opposite. Well, you’ve certainly come to the right god. I have been around the longest… I think… maybe… Iggy’s always evasive about how old they are. Anyways, let’s strike while the iron’s hot, I can only maintain my connection here for so long.

I repeat Addy’s words to Travis, then hesitantly have him ask my first question, “Why was I placed in this sword?”

Your sword in particular? Hang on.

The orange mana flashes in an unreadable manner, then resumes speaking.

Ok, just checked your anchor with my Domains. There are a few things out of the ordinary about the creation of your sword. The big one being that you don’t have any human remains floating around in there, just some unknown monster’s that were given to Solveig the Blacksmith by Aelffled the Witch. That blade is actually the last prototype used to create Voffer’s anchor, the high concentrations of Light and Shadow Mana were almost as high as Voffer’s Shadow and Ice Mana, so it made the perfect final test.

I start sharing the info dump with Travis, who perks up with interest, “Monster that used Light and Shadow? I don’t recall anything in the monster field guide that could use both.”

“That’s because there isn’t. It must have been some kind of chimera.”

I do have one more tidbit about your blade. A Packer soldier once tried to offer it as a sacrifice to receive my Blessing of Rebirth, but I told him to hang on to it, and offer it to Apheros instead. Maybe that’s what acted as the conduit? How long ago were you anchored?

Travis smiles with amusement as I repeat how Novrin’s guess ended up being pretty close, “How should I reply?”

“Tell them that my oldest memories only go back 147 years, and I don’t remember being anywhere other than being stuck in that Aelder Tree. Do they know anything else about my sword-body?”

Hmm, Apheros must have had that Packer quite literally plant you into that tree a few years later then. Oh, and as far as getting more info about your anchor, you can always ask Torbolt for this sword’s battle record. Though, I think you should talk to Apheros first, now that you’ve figured out how to talk early. I know he’s been busy lately, since he’s got a new Chosen he’s trying to train, but he’ll make time for you.

Well… I guess that pretty much settles who trapped me in my sword. And from the sound of it, it wasn’t done maliciously. Heck, they almost make it sound routine. Should I switch topics now? Maybe ask why my soul keeps getting bigger? Or what I can do to make more room? Or…

I turn my focus towards Travis, almost forgetting that I needed to repeat Addy’s words to him. He’s being extremely patient, doing his best not to fidget, but the lack of feedback and long delays between questions and answers is clearly making it tough for him to concentrate on our game of telephone.

Ugh, we need an auto-translator or… oh! I’ve got an idea.

“Why don’t you ask the next question? I’m not sure what to ask next. Plus, I think I can use my sword half to automatically repeat their words. Just give me a sec…”

Travis gives my pommel a scratch, then awkwardly asks, “Umm… Addy… What exactly is a paladin? Arc mentioned that you keep calling me one.”

Oh, that’s just a term us gods use to differentiate which mortals are acting on our behalf on the physical plane of existence. The churches intentionally muddle the definition by using the title for their mana users, even adding in the spellcaster focused title Cleric to aid in the confusion. Makes it much, much easier to do things quietly. Especially since Chosen have a difficult time keeping a low profile.

Travis cocks his head in confusion, “Okay, but… which god am I in service to? I know I have a blessing, but I’m not even sure if it was Apheros who gave it to me, or what it’s supposed to do.”

Well, that’s simple, you’re Arcane’s Paladin! He might still be little but… wait… did you just say you received an unknown blessing from someone?

“Umm… yes…”

The Metal Mana flashes nervously.

Ok, we’ve got a newborn that needs attending to, and a paladin with a blessing of unknown origin. Think… think… oh, I’ve got an idea!

The glowing orange mana in the altar fades, leaving me unsure about what to do given their worried reaction, but my focus spins back to Travis after seeing him yelp.

The Metal Mana on his poleaxe begins to multiply, making the weapon glow with an intense orange light.

Aphy! Can you come here? I need your help.

Travis grunts again as the amount of green Wood Mana in his poleaxe’s shaft rises to meet the mana density of the metal portions.

Addy, I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are, “Can you please-please-please delay my Chosen from going into a breeding cycle again?” I am going to…

No-no-no-no! It’s not that. I need your help with the new guy.

New guy? Oh… it’s you… The green mana slows its pulsing, giving off the impression of a stern glare. Young Master I’m Going to Run Around and Nearly Ruin Everyone’s Plans! Do you have any idea just how infuriated Torbolt is with you right now?

Huh, would you look at that… I didn’t know my focus could tremble with fear… Ha… ha-ha… ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…

Aphy! You’re scaring him!

Good! He should be. You’re in a lot of trouble young man… running off like that without telling anyone. Well, speak up, what do you have to say for yourself?

He can’t talk yet Aphy; his eyes are barely even open.

He can’t? Then how is he hearing us?

I’m not sure, I think he figured out a workaround? He’s been using his paladin to speak to me, and… oh, umm, speaking of paladins… Arcane, yours is having a panic attack.

Oh, shit!

Travis’ entire body is trembling, dripping in sweat as he breathes erratically, eyes wide in absolute fear, and has his hands gripping onto a nearby pillar for support.

“Travis, I’m here. I’m sorry, just umm… try to take big, slow, breaths, and focus on my voice. I take it you can feel the gods’ mana since you were attuned to your poleaxe?”

Travis nods, still gulping for air as tears run from his eyes, but manages a pained whisper, “I… I can hear them…”

“Shit, ok… grip my handle, and squeeze it as hard as you can.” Travis shakily reaches down, taking a few seconds to get a firm grip, “Travis, I promise, I will not let these two, or any other god hurt you. Yes, these two have the ability to bend reality, and that can be downright terrifying, but even they have limits to what they can do.”

Travis closes his eyes, and after a few minutes, eventually manages to somewhat calm his breathing as his body’s tension slowly bleeds away, “Okay… should I… say anything?”

Apheros’ mana flashes in a calm and relaxed pattern. Hey, don’t push yourself. Take your time bud. I’m sorry for scaring you. I was just… upset is all. Torbolt had this great big plan to help out his next Chosen and nurture a new minor god, but then your sword went rogue and almost ruined everything.

Adamanrion’s mana pulses. Oh, so Arcane’s not one of yours then?

God, no… I already have enough kids, and a dog, wreaking havoc all over the place. The last thing I need is another insolent whelp.

Hey now, don’t be so mean. Arcane’s just a newborn, and Torbolt clearly wasn’t taking care of him. He was bound to get curious and go exploring.

Whoa there! I’m not foolish enough to let Torbolt watch a newborn, I had Aelder babysit.

The Metal Mana in the poleaxe pulses judgmentally. You had Aelder… the Minor god of Childish Mischief… babysit?

Yeah, why would that… Oh… Ooooh… I think I know what happened now… Arcane was it? I’m sorry, I should have noticed something was off with how giddy Aelder has been lately.

Well, I’m glad we could get that cleared up, but that’s not the reason I called you over. Did you give Travis a blessing? He says he got one from someone but doesn’t know who for some reason.

No… wait, why would he not…? Oh! Oh no. Travis, I need to check you with my Domains. It’s possible someone might have cursed you. Can I have permission to look inside you?

I turn my focus back to Travis, who’s attempting to crush my handle once more, “Hey, if you don’t want to, we can stop and just leave. I still remember how traumatic it was the first time I met a god, and I didn’t even have a physical body. I’ll admit he sounds worried, and I am too, but we can always come back another day.”

Travis lets out a slow breath, inhales deeply once more, then replies, “No, it’s… it’s alright. He… he can look.”

Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle…

Some of the Wood Mana from the poleaxe threads it’s way through the connection point on Travis’s back, going through Durinn’s magnetism inscription, then through the armor and arming jacket, and finally enters Travis’ body. It spreads out, until every inch of Travis’s being has at least one strand in it, then begins to recede back into the poleaxe.

Whew! False alarm everyone. No signs of any curses, not even a blessing.

Travis and I both let out big sighs of relief, but as the last of the air leaves my lungs, I finally process that last bit.

Travis must have realized the same thing, “I don’t have a blessing? But… Arc can feel my touch… and, see through my eyes sometimes…”

Adamanrion’s mana pulses cheerfully. Ah, that explains the confusion. That’s just Arcane sensing you trying to establish a connection. He’s still just a newborn god-wise, so he won’t be able to respond back until he gets bigger. Just be patient, and keep doing what you’re doing, it shouldn’t be long until he speaks his first words.

Huh? Why do they keep referring to me like I’m a god?

Travis looks just as baffled, “But… Arc said he wasn’t a god?”

Apheros’ mana flickers in a fatherly pattern. He’s probably just feeling self-conscious, especially since he’s got so many accomplished older siblings. Why, just the other day, Phosei helped crush the armored skull of a deep-water behemoth the size of a bunker!

One of my paladins saw that! I was surprised, wasn’t that bearded anchored only a few calendar cycles ago?

Yep, just goes to show how much better the new method is. They were pretty powerful as a paladin, and did a great job attuning their warhammer enough to turn it into a strong anchor after death. Plus, their paladin has been doing an excellent job caring for them.

Speechless as to how to respond, I look over at Travis with my focus as he leans his shoulder against the pillar, looking more exhausted than panicked.

“Hey, are you still doing ok?”

“Yeah, just… tired and… hungry…”

The orange mana flickers to comfort Travis. We’re almost out of time, and I’m already feeling my connection slip, so just hang on a little longer Travis. Aphy, what should we do with these two?

The green mana ponders for a moment. So… Travis… you’re a responsible young man, have been helping me get a head start on some of my projects, been stopping Arcane from making an even bigger mess, and are already establishing a connection to him. How about I pay back the favor I owe you by officially naming you the Paladin of Arcane?

Travis perks back up, standing straight once more, but is having a hard time forming words. Apheros however, follows up his question before he could answer.

Before you answer, Arcane is going to need at least two hours of exercise every day, a deep clean after every combat tour or flood, will need his little messes cleaned up, and you’ll have to help him fix his housing. That necromancer left a number on his blade, scared off the poor little critter that was originally anchored to it.

Travis smiles as he hears me groan about being treated like a puppy, “So, what I’ve been doing?”

I figuratively roll my eyes, then whisper to Travis a quick request. Travis then rolls his eyes in turn and asks the nature god.

Paladin of the Arcane? A bit full of himself is he?

Addy chimes in. I like it, it adds to the mysterious vibe he’s got going on.

Well, I’m not going to be one to stop a child from expressing themself. Paladin of the Arcane, it is. I take it that’s a yes from you?

Travis nods his head and gives my handle a scratch in my favorite spot.

Woohoo! Adamanrion cheers as their presence begins to fade. Alright, I’m completely losing my grip on reality now. Take care you two! The intense orange light in the poleaxe disappears, only leaving the original Metal Mana.

Hmm, I’m starting to lose my grip as well. Try to carve some mana channels for next time Travis, makes it much easier to hang on. Now, as for what to do with Torbolt, I have an idea. I know who his new Chosen is, so I’ll send a distraction their way to keep them occupied. That should keep that sexy storm cloud at bay long enough to ride out the worst of his temper. Though, I’d recommend not going into his church or bumping into his Chosen until Arcane figures out how to make amends.

Travis gulps, “Okay, umm… anything else I should know or do?”

Hmm, not sure if you’d know this, but your great-great-grandfather was a goliath. So, don’t feel like you have to sleep with or marry a human girl. Live a little! Experiment! Make some drunken mistakes at the brothel. I’m serious… please do. Warden and I went through a lot of trouble updating everyone’s genetics so we could get viable half-breeds, but for some reason I can barely get humans to do the one thing that they’re famous for!

“Umm… okay…”

Great! Now, I’ve gotta get going, I promised Ignitious that I’d help him pull the old “have the schoolteacher call the pubescent boy to the front of the classroom” gag, so play nice with the other minor gods, and try not to cause too much trouble you two.

The abundant Wood Mana in the poleaxe recedes to their original level and Travis slumps against the pillar once more.

---

Travis

Apheros severed the connection to his endless expanse of mana, leaving me with the realization of how tiny and inconsequential I truly was, and my insides feeling hollowed out. I leaned against the pillar, utterly exhausted, and desperately wishing for someone to hold me in their arms.

“Travis, are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah… I just… need to lie down for a bit.” I looked around the room I was in and shuddered, “Not here though.”

“Okay, we can leave. We’ll discuss what happened tomorrow, or even later if you’re not up for it.”

I gave Arc’s pommel a rub, happy that he seemed to understand what I was feeling, and slowly, but carefully, started to leave the chamber I was in.

Unfortunately, I immediately ran into the dwarven priest I met here last time I visited.

“Travis! Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. You even brought your—Oh my, are you feeling okay?” The beardless dwarf moved up to me, “You’re looking as pale as a bedsheet. Do you want me to call a cleric to come and check you over?”

“No! I… uh, need some fresh air. Can you help lead me to my horse?”

“Of course.”

The beardless wrapped an arm around me, and adjusted my elbow so I could lean on their broad shoulder. We then started making our way out of the church, eventually reaching the front entrance where 5751054 was waiting for me.

I reached out to give my stallion a pat on the shoulder, but he opted instead to pull me into a hug by wrapping his neck around me, causing me to finally break out into tears.

We stood there for what must have been a long time before my body finally calmed, and I felt well enough to ride back to campus.

“Whew, was worried there for a minute.” The priest of Adamanrion spoke, “Want help getting on your horse? I can give you a lift.”

I nodded, then felt my body rise into the air as a column of Earth lifted me, making it a simple task to get into 5751054’s saddle. Turning to the priest, I gave them a nod, “Thanks for the help. I’ll try to come back again, though it might be a few months. I’ve got a Fall Expedition to go on.”

The beardless nodded eagerly, a huge smile plastered across their face, “I understand. Should you find need of my services, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Nodding once more to the friendly dwarf, I gave 5751054’s shoulder a rub and leaned forward, “Let’s head back to campus, but… take your time. It’s a nice day out.”

5751054 let out a friendly whinny.

---

Reidar

Voltsday, the 26th of Eighthmonth

Reidar felt nervous as he entered the church and began walking towards the Altar of Protection, only taking a quick detour to wave to Sister Phoebe as she helped tend to the myriad of plants. Before entering the altar’s hall though, he reached his hand into his valuables pouch, and gripped onto the idol Travis gave him.

Okay bud, you got this. Another paladin already pointed him in the right direction, so all he needs is a gentle push. Once he starts walking, I think we’ll be able to finally form a connection, and I’ll be able to help direct him further down the line.

“I’m still not confident that I’ll be suitable for this task.” Reidar whispered, “Don’t you have someone more appropriate?”

I do, but… just trust me on this. You’ll thank me someday.

The spartan remained stoic on the outside, despite the inner turmoil, and entered the hall to approach the Altar of Protection. Once his initial prayer was concluded, he sat down on one of the benches, stealing a glance of the broad-shouldered paladin seated nearby.

They kept fidgeting with the idol in their hands, occasionally mouthing a wordless cuss, and was clearly worried about something.

“Is everything alright?”

The old man startled, clinging to their idol as if they were just caught making a vow of celibacy in the church, but relaxed after seeing Reidar’s face, “Oh, it’s you. Nice to meet you again.”

Reidar nodded, “Same here, I wished to thank you for teaching me that technique, it has assisted me greatly in my study of medicine, not only in mana manipulation, but in helping me concentrate and relieving stress.”

The silver haired Lakelander grinned, “I’m glad I could help.”

“Do you require assistance in a matter? You appear to be undergoing a large amount of stress.”

They sighed, drooping their muscular shoulders, “It’s that obvious? Well… I guess so.” He turned to look at the altar, “I’ve never been a loyal follower of Apheros, even when I first joined the order. Rot, I actually tried to leave a full calendar cycle ago when I got into an argument with the Archbishop.”

He lowered his head, “I’ve been given a new task, one that I’m not sure I’m cut out to perform. I mean, there must be someone more qualified than this old meathead, right?”

Reidar nodded, “I have recently experienced the same emotion, and expect to feel it again next week while on duty. I’ll be deploying with a mixed team of Knights, Mages, Spartans, and Commandos.”

The paladin raised an eyebrow at the spartan, “You’re worried that your combat skills won’t be up to par?”

“No, what worries me the most is that I will be unable to communicate effectively with my new squad. Both on and off the field of combat.” Reidar reached to pull out his idol, “I have difficulty lowering my shield when in social situations, often preferring to treat each interaction as a mission assignment.”

“Sounds like you got assigned to the wrong division.”

Reidar shook their head, “I chose my current position. I will never escape the pot I’m in until I shatter the vessel with my roots. The alternative is to remain forever stagnant in my growth.”

The paladin smiled, “Sounds like you’ve found time to study Apheros’ teachings.”

“I’ve… received some assistance.”

“Well then, perhaps you can help this old man.” He took a breath, then checked to make sure no one else was present, “I’m about to make a life-altering decision, one that I won’t be able to turn back on. I’ll create many enemies, and likely only garner a few friends. This church,” The paladin raised their hand to gesture to the entire building around them, “might not exist as it does now when you return from your Fall Expedition.”

Reidar looked around at the numerous plants inside the building, each one in its own pot, and carefully tended to so that it doesn’t become overgrown, “Will that be such a bad thing? Shouldn’t all living things yearn for growth?”

The paladin rubbed the tiny idol in their hand, pondering the question, before lifting their head, “You’re right. I can’t waste away my life, too afraid that I won’t find soil when I breakout.” He stood up, then walked up to the teenager to give their shoulder a pat, “Thanks for the pep talk.” He then exited the hall.

---

Marceles

Later that night

Kolen, Cleric of Apheros, approached Marceles, “I gathered as many trusted people as I could. Do you want to tell me why before we step out there.”

Marceles placed a hand on Kolen, “This isn’t a speech I can easily repeat. Are you ready?”

Kolen nodded, giving permission for the paladin to step on the stage in the pub.

“Brothers and Sisters of the Church of Apheros, I am Marceles, Paladin of Apheros. I come before you to deliver a message.” Marceles took a deep inhale, then tightened their grip on the idol in their hand, “The Archbishop and High Paladin have been lying to you. Apheros has named a Chosen.”

Silence filled the hall, though many where sharing nervous looks with each other.

“Rather than tell us, our leaders have tried to hide the fact that they have failed in their duties. Not only have they interfered with the Chosen’s plan, but they also tried to seduce him with one of our own sisters, and have turned a deaf ear towards the criticisms he has spoken about our practices.”

Hushed whispers spread across the pub, and a certain young woman was in tears as she turned to confirm the validity of Marceles’ words.

“I have a plan that will endear us to Apheros’ instrument, but I cannot do it alone. Who will join me to air our grievances with the church’s leadership?”

The sounds of moving chairs filled the pub, causing the Paladin of Apheros to let out a sigh of relief.