All in all, it went pretty well. Somewhat better than what Frank had expected.

Salem, Esther, and Wilbur took in the news calmly. Wilbur was shocked. Esther was surprised. And Salem… got up and headed out. Saying he needed to get some air.

Thankfully, Willbur went out with him. At least someone would have an eye on the cook.

Esther sat back in her seat. “You think the majordomo didn’t have a lot of cards because he’s got access to a team inventory with his boss?”

Frank slowly turned to her. Esther poured herself another cup of coffee, then pulled a flask from her back pocket and poured something into the same cup.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking. The majordomo was a Silver. Same as the dead dude. But he had nothing in his Deck. I’m thinking, the majordomo knew that he might die, so he kept everything off his person. But your guy, Tassels or whatever his name is, probably didn’t think he’d lose. So he had everything on himself.”

Frank stared at her as she settled down on the couch behind him, then rested her feet on a chair. She looked up, then threw him the flask. “What do you think?”

Frank blinked at her, then at the liquor. He chuckled and ruefully shook his head. “I thought you’d want to head out for a walk as well,” he said after a moment.

Esther shrugged. “I guess we’ll see what those two think. But… I don’t care as much, personally. I mean, I saw the bounty board. It’s harder to find who isn’t on it than who is. It seems like a normal thing here. Sure, Hera pushed our name to the top and managed to convince people to act on it, but that’s been dealt with. The Agent said there’ll be penalties because the board is supposed to be active only while a Trial is in progress. As far as I can tell, we’re fine.”

“So you don’t care?”

“Honestly? Not at all. I’m surprised it wasn’t me who pissed someone off first. I actually had a bit of a tense situation with some noble Catfolk person. For a moment, I thought it was them who tried to do something.”

Frank drank from his spiked coffee and sighed. “Well. That’s surprisingly nice of you to say.”

She waved it away. “Come on. Don’t get all sappy on me. I told you, we’re on the same team. Though I might drop you if Wilbur and Salem won’t have you around. I think you’ll be able to handle yourself. They won’t.”

“Yeah. That’s fair.”

They drank in silence for a few moments. Then Esther asked, “You think she really did that? Your sister?”

Frank examined his cup and considered his answer. He’d already had time to think about it. Especially as he wondered what he could say to her with the scroll that was now figuratively burning a hole in his pocket.

He nodded, slowly. “I think so. Yeah. I mean, not the Sandra I grew up with. But the one that got inducted in these Trials ten years ago? Yeah. I mean, look at this world. We killed people in broad daylight and we got loot for it. Achievements? Levels?” Frank shook his head. “Madness. Wilbur’s a kid and he didn’t even blink at any of this. You and me, we were the outliers back on Earth. The people who got the dirty work done. We got used to the killing and everything else that comes with the job, but Wilbur? Sandra?” He tightened his lips and shook his head again. “I think it’s this place. The standards of this world are different. And Sandra adapted. Very well, apparently.”

“She’s kind of a badass.”

Frank chuckled. “Hah. Yeah. Considering Hera tried to kill a cook who happened to be in my team, then yeah, she probably sucks. Anyway, I’ll find out what happened. Sooner or later.”

Both stared at the wall for a few seconds, before Esther broke the silence. “A TV would be nice. How are people going to watch these Trials? Or is it just the gods?”

Frank slowly turned to her. “I… I don’t actually know. The gods for sure. But I don’t know about the rest.”

They leaned back against the couch, then it was Frank who broke the silence. “How about you? Got any family you’re going to look for?”

Esther hummed. “I’d rather not make the mood even worse than it already is. But short answer, no.”

Just then, a ringing sound filled the suite. Frank saw a prompt pop in front of him, but Esther reacted to it first.

The doorway lit up and Kreios stepped through, carrying a small, familiar chest under his arm. Khaa was on his heels; she nodded to them while the merchant placed Stella’s gift on the table. Frank had requested the man’s help the evening prior, when the two recruiters had come in to check on them.

Kreios pulled a chair out for Khaa, one for himself, then they both sat down facing Frank and Esther.

“The florist is fine. And you owe me a gold piece and four silvers for the potter’s inventory,” said Kreios.

“Thank you.” Frank paid the man back. “Anything news about the other stuff?”

Both Khaa and Kreios shook their heads.

“It’s too soon to be asking dangerous questions,” said Kreios. “Not after we’ve been seen talking with you and your team. As I explained, we have to keep our distance.”

Esther tsked. “How can one god out of–how many are there? How can just one make every faction wet their pants like this?”

Khaa brushed off some dust from her robes, then smoothed it against her knee. “Because Queen Hera is the figurehead of a major faction. Neither the faction I represent nor his can stand up to hers,” she said, nodding to Kreios.

“Do we need a major faction to back us, then?” Frank felt awkward speaking for the team, now that there was a chance he might not be part of it.

“A major faction would shield you,” admitted Kreios. “And might even force her to back off, but unfortunately those factions have their own Champions. Unless someone’s really special, they won’t risk the political fallout for a random Seedwordler. Some might offer just because of your sister’s name. But you’ll probably end up being a pawn then. Or bait.”

Khaa took over. “There are other gods that Queen Hera respects and not all of them are represented by a faction. Attracting their attention or goodwill would be a challenge, but it might be possible if you do well enough on the first Trial. Or you might try some offerings at the Hall of Shrines, but I would temper my expectations. The factionless gods don't have a faction for a reason. They might not care about the matters of this Realm. Though a few might already be aware of your existence, considering the bounties and your connection to the Seamstress. It remains to see if that’s a negative or a positive.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Esther played with her mug and leaned forward. “That reminds me. What’s the deal with bounties? How is that…”

“Allowed?” smiled Kreios.

“...Public?” finished Esther. “How is it out in the open like this?”

Khaa shrugged. “Factions want to see their own people move forward. Their enemies and rivals would rather not. So they snipe and sabotage each other. It’s extra incentives and challenges for the Champions, as far as I know.”

“They’re usually not as sinister as they sound,” said Kreios. “Normally, for the first couple of Trials the Champions are protected. The lifeline of their Decks makes it so they’re just eliminated from the Trial. Add on the fact that the cost of placing a bounty rises dramatically with every Trial, and most Champions see their bounty disappear completely in a Trial or two.”

“Unless they’ve personally angered someone. Someone willing to pay the increased bounty. And the further down the Trials a Champion gets…” Khaa hinted.

Frank nodded. “The lifeline loses efficiency. And the bounty becomes about more than an elimination from the Trial.”

Esther leaned forward. “You’re saying Hera will keep her bounty on us?”

“Queen Hera. Or Godqueen Hera. Don’t make her raise it even further. And yes. She’s spiteful like that,” said Khaa, the final sentence coming through in a soft growl.

Kreios crossed one leg over his knee. “You could try to be diplomatic. Ask for forgiveness and whatnot. But you’ll always be seen as bait to pull the Seamstress out of hiding. So I wouldn’t bother.”

“Great.” Frank leaned back and almost smiled at the situation he found himself in. Then he remembered the scroll. He looked up at Khaa and Kreios. “What about the Automaton? Does it have its own faction?”

Both of them went still.

Kreios slowly uncrossed his leg and straightened up. He was about to say something, but hesitated. Khaa spoke up.

“The Great Automaton does not have a faction,” she declared, and Frank shivered. He’d never seen her look as focused. Both of them were giving him pointed looks. “The Great Automaton does not take sides. Do not speak of this. Because if you think Queen Hera was excessive in her response, it will be nothing compared to every other faction’s reaction when they suspect you of secretly dealing with the Automaton.”

The Scroll flashed in his mind. Too late for that, it seems. Frank nodded carefully. “Understood.”

Kreios leaned over. “Do not speak of such matters–even between yourselves–until you have your own Inner Realm. You never know who’s watching. And you have nothing to block scrying. We’re probably safe right now, because this is the Automaton’s domain. But even that’s too big of a risk.”

Hmm?

“What’s this about inner realms?” asked Esther.

“It’s what you’ll have once you establish your Cornerstone Glyph. Have you not seen Wilbur or Salem go into theirs?”

Frank and Esther shared a look. Then both of them turned back to Khaa and chorused, “What?”

Kreios chuckled. “To be fair, it’s probably only a broom closet at their levels. So I understand why they wouldn’t go in there. But yes, once you create a connection to your Cornerstone Glyph, you’ll have a small world you can go to. Technically, you have one already. It’s where your mana comes from. Where it’s stored.”

Frank considered [Osiris' Sacred Gardens]. He had selected it in part as a potential exit strategy… did this mean that he wouldn’t need to use it as such? Actually, would it even work as an escape route? He’d have to test it today. “Are these Inner Realms a way to get out of danger?” he asked.

The recruiters shook their heads vehemently. “Not at all,” said Khaa. “When you establish a Cornerstone, something called an Anchor is created in your Inner Realm. When you go in, you’re switching places with this Anchor. So if you were to flee in your own inner Realm, your Anchor will be attacked. Once it’s destroyed, you’ll be forced back out and you won’t have access to your Inner Realm until it's re-made.”

“It could buy you a few seconds. Maybe a couple of minutes. But it’s not an escape,” added Kreios.

Well, that was something Frank looked forward to. Too bad he’d had to take the scroll and not the meditation that would help him establish his Cornerstone Glyph.

----------------------------------------

As the three spoke of Cornerstones, Esther had no idea what Glyph she wanted to pursue.

Something sharp. Probably. Or maybe something from her new card? She summoned the card in her interface and looked at it. Something in it called to her. But not everything.

[Berserker Arts: Ravenous Rhapsody]

Rarity: Epic

Type: Special Arts

Weight: 1

Description: Whenever you injure an opponent, a portion of their physical prowess is transferred to you. Caution: Absorbing too much power can lead to spiritual injuries and might cause a berserking state.

She didn’t like the potential loss of control. That wasn’t who she was. But taking someone’s strength and turning it against them? That peaked her interest.

Khaa and Kreios were preparing to head out when Frank threw in one last question. “Special Arts or Magic Boots?”

Both recruiters paused, shared a look and nodded. “Special Arts. You can buy boots. Special Arts are harder to find. And you can learn a lot from them.“

Something kept bugging Esther, so she asked as well. “I’ve got one. But what’s the difference between Empowerements and Special Arts? Both seemed like they’re doing the same.”

Kreios turned to Khaa. “You mind taking care of this?”

The Jackalfolk nodded and sat back down, while Kreios said his goodbyes and left.

“The line is thinner than you might expect. Technically, most Spells and Empowerment–if not all–are Special Arts. It’s only if the ability is simple or straightforward enough that it gets classified as a Spell or Empowerment. Nowadays, the Special Arts type is reserved for complex abilities that are often made up of multiple mana techniques. Projection, Empowerment, Shaping. And Intent. The Suinah’s Suit is a Special Arts card. Using the Glyph of Clay, it projects mana. Shapes it. And infuses it with power and Intent to behave like it does before reinforcing it with Heat.”

Esther hummed as she looked back down at her card. So there was something in [Ravenous Rhapsody] for her. A small portion of the technique.

I’ll have to test this more. Plus I can always practice resisting the effect. Exposure therapy, just like Frank and his bunny.

A couple of seconds later, Khaa got up. “I am sorry that we’re unable to offer more support. I wish you all luck in the next few days. Sincerely.”

And with that, she left.

Esther stood up. “I’m gonna go for a walk. Maybe find the boys. You’ll be alright here?”

Frank nodded.

She paused at the door and turned back. “Take the Special Arts. You need some offense, Frankie. And for the love of god–sorry, gods. Don’t pick any more grass cards.”

Frank threw a pillow at her, and she cackled as she ducked away.

The noise of the crowd welcomed her. As the magical doorway shut down behind her, she sighed.

She’d never really considered finding her biological parents. Not back on Earth, and not here. They were strangers, really. Should she look for them?

She shuddered. “Ugh. None of that, now.” That was something she’d consider in a few months. Years maybe.

Right now she had young and naive teammates to find. Esther strolled toward the food court. They were probably there, or in the training area.

She liked them. She really wanted to keep the team as it was, but she couldn’t force Salem and Wilbur to be part of this sort of stress. She thrived in it, but she was the odd one out. Frank too, in a way. Even if he moaned and complained non-stop about it.

Ten minutes or so later, she found them in the area the Einherjar liked to hang in. It was an open space with long, wide tables that could accommodate an army. The central table was stock-full of meals, and the Einherjar–and many others–milled around, laughing and chatting, occasionally picking food from the arrayed meals.

Wilbur was in his Suit, surrounded by a handful of Einherjar as they laughed loudly and shoved each other. A few chatting groups away she found Salem, sitting next to someone that made the back of her neck tingle.

A young, dark-skinned woman in a traveling cape. Her dreadlocks were tied back and she looked like any other Champion, but there was something about her that kept pinging in the back of Esther’s mind, pulling at her attention every few seconds. Esther considered approaching and figuring out who this stranger was, but then the woman got up and left.

Who is that?

Then a booming voice pulled her out of thoughts. “It’s the human damsel! Come, drink with us!”

She turned to the voice and spread her arms wide with a laugh. It was the bald Einherjar that had helped her out yesterday. Carr. Next to him the swordsman nodded, and the third figure made Esther’s eyes twinkle.

It was the Einherjar woman who’d had her arm chopped off the first time they had gotten to the training area.

Well. Wilbur and Salem can wait for a few minutes, right?

Yes. They’d be fine. Esther grinned as she accepted a mug full of something that made her nose burn and winked at the woman. This new life is awesome.