The genial receptionist brought two boys to meet us, both dark-haired and dark-skinned, ages ten and twelve respectively judging by their appearance.

Nicola brightened up the moment they entered and rushed out of her seat to hug them. They returned the hug with some reluctance and groaned about her excessive doting.

However, their actions were only a front. Somewhere beneath the gruffness lay muted elation at their sister's visit. It peeked out in the way they exchanged knowing glances with each other and smiled at Nicola's fussing.

Neither of them possessed the exuberance I had come to associate with kids. But, they were Nicola’s siblings, alright. Their eyes burned with the same golden fire that hers did, despite their unsteady gaits.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” the receptionist said. “That should be more than enough.”

A wild thought raced through my mind. We could steal the kids and make a break for it before the receptionist could so much as blink. But, that still left the problem of enchantments. And, the shirt slipped down around one brother’s neck, revealing a set of runes painted like a collar.

“Damien,” Nicola said, waving me over. “Come say hello.”

Her brothers backed away from me with wide eyes.

“Sis . . .” the older kid said, “those ears . . . I don’t think he’s human.”

Nicola chuckled. “Of course, he’s not. Damien’s an elf.”

The two boys exchanged glances.

“I’ve never seen an elf,” the younger kid said, pushing his locs out of his face. “He’s not evil, is he?”

“Oh, come on,” I said, throwing my arms in mock exasperation. “Why does everyone have something bad to say about me?”

“It’s the eyes,” Nicola said, and she laughed even harder. “It lends you a pretty imposing look.”

“That’s a problem of genetics. It has nothing to do with my character!”

The older kid scratched his chin. “Yeah, those eyes of his make him look a little dangerous. 'Doesn't help that he's taller than anyone else I know.”

“I don’t like him,” the younger said from safety behind Nicola. “I prefer Ben.”

Hey, now! That kinda hurt.

“What’s your relationship with our sister?” the older kid said, balling his fists. “If you are just another dirtbag—”

Nicola thwacked him over the head.

“What did I teach you about making assumptions? Damien is from Dreadwood, but he’s still nicer than anyone else in the city.” She turned to me. “Damien, meet Theo and Bart. The best brothers in the entire world.” She made a cute face and hugged them tightly. “They don’t know much about the outside world except from the stories they hear, so don’t take any of what they say to heart.”

“Oh, I wasn’t offended,” I said, extending a hand to Theo, the older of the two. “If they are this interested in the company you keep, then they must be good lads.”

Theo scrutinized my offered hand and wrinkled his nose at the compliment.

“Theo,” Nicola warned.

“Oh, alright.” He shook my hand with a grip far weaker than a boy his age should exude. “Nice to meet you, Damien. Just look out for her, okay? Sometimes, she gets into stuff way over her head.”

“I promise to do so,” I replied, to Nicola’s indignation.

Bart looked between his brother and me, and then he shuffled forward for a handshake of his own.

“You’re from the forest?” he asked with furrowed brows. “How do you even live there? I heard it’s full of monsters.”

“Lots of monsters,” I agreed. “But, they’re no match for me. I’m pretty strong.”

Bart beamed. “Hey! I’m going to be a ranker too. Theo tells me I just need to save up the fee once I get out of here.”

Nicola bit her lip.

“Shush now, okay?” Theo said. “What did I tell you about talking about the outside?”

“But, you said we’d be able to leave soon—”

“I didn’t—”

“You will, okay?” Nicola interjected, kneeling to ruffle Bart’s hair. “It might take a little more time, but I promise to get you out of here.”

“Soon, right?” Bart said.

“Yes, baby. Soon.”

Bart stuck his tongue out at Theo. “See? I told you so.”

But, Theo fell silent and turned sullen eyes on his sister.

He knew she was lying. He knew. But, he gracefully realized that his brother didn't need that knowledge.

I returned to my bench after a short while to give the siblings some room to talk. They made use of their limited time to do just that, as well as eat goodies from Nicola's inventory. The boys also posed occasional questions to me, which I ensured to answer with gusto.

I didn’t have the power to change the world, but Paz had been right about my accompanying lack of desire.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Now, however, as I watched the Ainsworths laugh despite their circumstances, my blood boiled.

“So, where is your father anyway?” I asked Nicola, as we made our way through Skeelie with a setting sun painting the backdrop.

We had spent the rest of the day traveling around the city, visiting landmarks that Nicola deemed important. She had tried to lure me into the temple, a towering building built for those seeking to experience the cult’s special brand of hospitality, but I had made good use of [Stealth] to avoid that.

We wandered the streets now, discussing her mother who had died at Bart’s birth, and her missing dad.

“Who knows where that fucker is?” she said, crossing her arms behind her hat. “He fled town to escape the bank’s mercenaries. Probably fled all of Bargheria too. My best guess is that he is rotting in a ditch somewhere.” She beamed at that part. “Not that he has anything to return to. Everything we owned was seized by the bank. Well, almost everything.”

“Almost everything?”

“I reclaimed the house,” Nicola said with a triumphant smile. “The noble who bought it at the auction promised to return it if I escorted him for a week. A small matter for a sister of the cult.

“Damn fool tried his best to make me beholden to him, but he might as well have been laboring for naught. I gained the house and a few pieces of silver. In exchange, he died of a heart attack a few days later. Figures that a debased mind can’t make up for a frail body . . . or a short stick.” She averted her gaze. “Sorry for being crass.”

“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You've done remarkably despite your circumstances. No one should have to endure that.”

A rich aroma danced on the wind, the smell of freshly baked pie. Nicola and I paused to savor it. Everyone here loved to eat. I could respect that.

“I take it that the house is important to you?” I asked.

“Not by much, no,” she said. “Sure, we all grew up in it. But, I can’t cross the hallway without recalling the night the enforcers forced down the doors and bound us in runes.” Her fingers flitted to her neck.

“Why keep it then?”

“Because I didn’t want strangers trampling over one more thing I owned.” She wiped her eyes. “It also helped save on rent; homes are expensive in Skeelie. I’d once entertained dreams of living again with my family in those halls. But, that was a long time ago."

"So, what's the plan now?"

Nicola grinned. “I’ve filed for a change in the deed of ownership! Once the city approves it, I can sell the house for a fair sum. Six gold pieces, at least. It should help relieve the weight on my back.”

I kicked a pebble clear across the street. “That's awesome.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve saved up a fair bit of money too. I just need to work harder over the next two years to see it through to the end. Theo, first. Then, Bart.” Her eyes burned. “It’s not impossible.”

I glanced at the spire towering over the city. Every vein in my body told me that the [System] had intended for me to come here and earn a second Legacy Quest. “The Labyrinth’s still an option . . .”

“Stop, Damien. Just stop. Ben tried to convince me to participate. But, between his departure and the problem with Byron, I will never sign up for it. I’ll sell the house and work myself to the bone to make up the balance.”

Yes, but I could also participate on her behalf. “What do I need to do to enter the Labyrinth?”

Nicola furrowed her brows. “You’d need to pay the guild fee and register a party. Four is the standard number, though three is also approved. The Labyrinth places a cap on the number of participants at two hundred. The window for registrations opens tomorrow on a first-come first-serve basis. It closes once the quota has been reached.”

I cast my eyes in the direction of the Adventurer’s Guild. Dungeon crawling sounded exciting, especially for a noble cause. But, all this was irrelevant. Unless I found more spirit orbs, I would consume the last of them tomorrow, leaving me with barely two more days to live.

Nicola grabbed my arm. “Damien, you’re not thinking of going in there, are you?”

I patted her hand. “I don’t have much time left, Nicola. And, it’s not like I’ve found success building a party.”

“This again? Why do you care so much about it?”

“Because I have to. It is a matter of grave consequence.”

Nicola frowned. “How about this, then? My home’s not too far from here. If you have nothing else to do, stop by for a meal. I’ll listen to your story over some ale.”

“That sounds pretty cozy.”

Nicola smiled—really smiled, for the first time since I’d known her. She added a hop to her step and led me first to a grocer, and then the nicer part of the city, which lay to the south, close to the areas reserved for the lords and ladies.

Her wide, honest grin proved infectious, and I soon found myself laughing along to a story from her early days at the cult.

We turned the corner into Nicola’s street.

Our laughter died in our throats.

A building burned, completely engulfed by flames from the pit of hell.

Great tongues of fire grew larger with each passing second, roaring up into the sky. The conflagration cast a red glare over a group of bystanders who stood around the street. All of them gaped at the chaos.

The vivid illumination of the streetlamps dampened the glare, but they did nothing for the expression of sheer horror that unfurled across Nicola’s face.

The next moment, she raced for the building, shoes flying off behind her.

I chased after Nicola but didn’t try to restrain her. Not when I understood what had occurred.

The Ainsworth Manor had become a large furnace. The small, two-story building quailed within an inferno that reeked of magic. The fire consumed everything from the lawn to the pillars and even the fence. The roof buckled with a groan.

At that moment, I grabbed Nicola to keep her from wading through the front door. Her legs gave way beneath her, drained of whatever force kept them standing.

She wept. My god, she wept.

A Mage in the city’s employ arrived some precious minutes after we did, but her water-creation magic did little to combat the fire. By the time she was done, a ruined husk stood in the manor’s wake.

And, Nicola . . .

Poor Nicola. She flattened herself on the ground, bawling onto the cobblestones.

The rest of the night passed in a blur.

I could only recall cradling a soot-ridden Nicola in my room at the inn as she created a wet patch on my chest.

Each sob struck like a knife, driven into my heart.

I sat in the Adventurer’s Guild the next morning.

Rankers from all over the region flooded in to register for the festival. Each party pinned their name on a board set up on one end of the hall, and then they hung around to mingle with other rankers.

Sometimes, the crowd cheered when a popular ranker stepped up to add their name. Other times, they fell silent when an unknown party appeared.

The guild had designed things this way to milk the excitement. I could see why. All of the gathered rankers eyed each other like wolves, despite wide smiles and hearty laughter.

The registration window provided a chance for participants to gauge the competition, make deals, and strike alliances. If anyone here wanted the Labyrinth’s treasures, these were the people they needed to beat.

The number of participating parties eventually rose to forty. Not a record high. But, a peak nonetheless.

Byron arrived around noon—one hour before the deadline—shadowed by his teammates. A hush fell over the crowd as he surveyed the room with disinterest. His heavy armor gleamed in the light, complete with a goat-horned helmet which he carried under his arm.

Hey, it seems you are afraid.

+1 has been added to all stats.

Byron approached the guild clerks and requested a slip of paper. He scribbled his party’s name on it and proceeded to pin it on the board.

I reached him just as he finished and tapped his shoulder.

And then, I slugged him square in the face.