The next morning, Tim’s new allies in the fivel fivel blessed him and his party with a breakfast worthy of a new holiday. A sweet girl led a team of foresters with tiny tin cups hung on their saddles with a nectar they called ozgook. The dark nectar blended the tastes of grapes, raspberries, and tart grapefruit into a strangely active exchange with his mouth. Its pulsing charge reminded him of a sports car revving its engine, and with every cycle, the ingredients spread their wealth. By themselves, the energy those juices produced was like a thick, warm oil that would hang around in bursts for a long time as it soaked deep into his teeth roots and into his brain. Its vitality delivered slivers of bliss slipping into the cracks of his massive Eiyero hangover and sealing him over with healing salve.
Tim rejoiced with the Fivel for the lives saved through their efforts. It helped him quell the distaste of what they did to Warryn to get the information they did.
Chris’s left eye puckered with the rest of his face as he reacted to a downed shot of ozgook. He pet the fivel forester who’d stopped by his chair, scratching behind her ear to her delighted foot tap and thanked her.
The fivel were a meek race, carrying on as though to an audience of one and comfortable in their skin in a way that encouraged Tim to settle his spirit in this new realm.
“I made something for you,” Chris said to Tim. He took out a small stone jar from his bag of holding. Inside was a pea green paste that smelled of coffee grounds and mud. “I put this on my neck and temples to help the Eiyero hangover.”
Jogey reached a claw for the jar.
“No, Jo,” Chris said. “You’ve had yours.”
Tim pet Jogey’s head and stretched high to avoid a playful claw. Jo snapped a harmless bite in the air as he retracted his hand with the jar. “Thanks,” Tim said, and scooped some of the paste. The cool slime rubbed on with effervescent energy soaking into his skin.
Just when Tim thought the party couldn’t get any better, the Oke and Chris surprised them with pipes to puff a healing herb they saved for after victories.
Tim hadn’t smoked in decades, but they said this was healthy, maybe even a godsend with his low constitution since it reduces inflammation and did something else Tim couldn’t remember.
Chris had helped and boasted that his Leveling had gifted him with Germination and Healing Herbs. A jubilant Oke spent half their breakfast telling Tim how one of every fivel litter would be given Tim as a surname and when he passed, Tim would be granted this burg in Oke’s will.
Tim politely waved him off to follow their normal inheritance rituals, but he gave several precedents for friends receiving burgs. Often, those turn out better than the ones handed down through blood.
The other half of the breakfast started with Oke chomping into toiga ribs lathered in a spicy barbecue sauce and saying, “Let’s talk about the sea.”
Oke held up the pouch of blue fire looking seeds they’d forced Warryn to release before his death. “Your brother has offered to assist in getting a crop started with this.”
“To get into rogue leveling?” Tim asked Chris.
He shook his head, though a small glimmer of acknowledgment between them couldn’t rule it out entirely. “There’re other things we can use it for. Wasn’t always just for Eiyero and rogue leveling, apparently. Wicker Sea’s most prized attribute is how it bonds spells to physical matter.”
Chris and Roz went into more detail about how they wanted to grow it for the spells Chris would learn to cast as a wood sorcerer.
As the discussion returned to what they gained from Warryn about the artisan and cartel plans, Oke described Warryn as low in importance. His level would have been higher had his spell worked on the skull Tim took. Nonetheless, their victory in stopping him and securing Wicker Sea seeds could be the jolt this burg and his brother’s class growth needed. Wachamia’s hills and tunnels dug by the fivel were draw points to artisans farming the area with Wicker Sea, and this was the only invasion they’d stopped.
“We have a few days before they’ll notice Warryn didn’t succeed,” Oke said.
“So, now’s our time to surprise them?” Tim asked and glanced at Jil to see if she was on the same page.
She seemed cautiously optimistic that it would be, but Oke spoke first.
“Our two options would be sending a force after the next burg and hope to flank the artisans. The other would be heading for Padstoligan and the lost treasure to see what the Dutchy thought was so important.”
“And why Warryn killed himself to protect that secret,” Tim added. “It’s tough. We can find other ways to either get that information or stop it from reaching the Dutchy, whatever it is. If we stop the next invasion and build momentum to spread out with more fivel and allies, maybe that’s how we build the force needed to stop the Dutchy from… whatever it is we need to stop.”
He felt so eloquent.
Truly spellbinding.
Dryfu hopped over Tim’s plate and on toward the middle of the table. His last steps in a circle to address the group included flicking one wing off with another as though brushing himself before speaking to a king. “I have an idea. Being fellow field creatures as we are, I suggest partnering with the Krows. Ra Krow keeps a sizable force around Mous Breath Hot Springs. It’s about a hundred miles northwest of here. He might have information about the Pads treasure, too, but our first reason for contact would be paying for their protection. Access to tunnels for hunting would be a nice payment for their services.”
“I hate to breakup the band so soon,” Chris said, “but I think my germination skill would be best served by staying in one place long enough to grow some massive crops.”
He held a twig like a pen. White tendrils split from a knot in the twig he held like a pen. They grew along his finger as he spoke, yet he didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he was glowing with excitement.
Tim didn’t want to stifle that, even though he also didn’t love his brother assuming whatever Tim had planned wouldn’t need him. Maybe he was being selfish for wanting that courtesy since he apparently wasn’t willing to offer the same in the plans he’d dreamt. Separating so soon did hurt a little. He loved Chris and was just starting to feel a groove in their co-op fighting. Brother’s Keeper was a great skill that this plan meant stagnating while they were apart.
He kept a smile as he asked, though, because brothers. And it looked like the rest of them knew a little more about this plan than he did.
“I’m sorry, if you have another idea.” More of the business side in Chris’s suave manner played off as though he could go with whatever his brother preferred. “I’m sure it’s probably what we’ll do, but we haven’t had a chance to talk since I earned this cross-skill, so maybe I could share–just so you have all the options on the table. You know.”
“How considerate of you.” Tim winked. He was onto this game.
“It’s what I do,” Chris said and winked back. The worst part was Chris knew that Tim knew that Chris knew he’d end up getting what he wanted. Tim was surprised Chris didn’t land here with an S-Rank in negotiation.
Since he so brazenly shone his winning smile, Tim guessed it was time to hear why.
“Alright little bro, tell me the rest of your plan once you get this crop going.”
Turns out, it was a good plan. The jerk. Sold him with the suggestion Tim and Jil find the Krows themselves and how great it would be for her to get that one-on-one training time. The wink Chris gave at the end was barely covered from her. In fact, Tim had a hunch it wasn’t, and she’d pretended not to see. Even that felt like it was part of his tactic to put one past him and get the better deal. Not that getting to know Jil better wasn’t a highlight of his coming day. But while they were gone, Chris, Thron and Roz would gain a boatload of experience turning the burg into a Wicker Sea farm. And just like that, Tim felt like a small business owner with his one shot to make it big. And that clock came with a target on their backs.
“You sure you’re good for this?” Jil asked. They climbed alone with the light of Dryfu’s tail to guide them. His battle with the carrion bird earned him an extension to his tail that glowed and acted as a flint to sharpen his wings mid flight. Each stroke across the ridged belts circling the tip created a spark to keep the glow burning, as well as boosted his speed 5-10%.
As long as you’re under the influence of leveling, as your familiar, so am I. That bird was a handful. I’m glad we both made it out.
Me too.
Jil looked at him, waiting for his answer to a question he hadn’t heard.
“Sorry, Dryfu was just bragging about his new butt. Isn’t it glorious?”
Jil snorted in good humor. “I’ve seen better.”
Tim cleared his throat. “Whoa. Shh. Don’t let him hear you say that. He’s fragile.”
“Quite. Well, if we can get past that for just a moment, I promise we can return to that topic later.”
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“Dually noted. Sorry.”
Jil bumped softly into his arm, as though to say she was glad for his company. “Tell me more about corporate security. I bet it was quite different.”
“Than this? No. All it’s missing is my name tag and walkie. I was kind of a big deal there, too.”
“The biggest.” Jil set him within her two cheeky smile and gazing eyes. She was having fun with him. Somehow he hadn’t screwed it up yet, and she knew what he sounded like when he screamed. Stars aligned.
Now to make sure he didn’t say something stupid.
You want me flick you between the eyes and put you to sleep?
You can do that?
For you, I’m willing to try.
Jil’s playful sense waited for him to elaborate on how big a deal he was.
“I normally charge a consultant fee,” he said.
Dryfu groaned.
“Enough out of you, killer,” he joked. “I pretty much revolutionized the badge making process. Our annual golf outing was a rousing success. Record time from door to door you ask? I imagine so, but who’s counting? First year on the job… Whatever. I still call it a team win.”
“He’ll keep going if you don’t slap him,” Dryfu said.
“Wow, that’s impressive,” Jil slapped his chest in mock surprise.
Grrrrrr.
The noise emanated from a black pit in the wall. How had I not–
The creature leapt. Jil had the arrow nocked, but not the time to pull it back. A black monster flew out from the dark, muscular legs spread in a circle–all six–around its body. Claws with white tips glowed as magic sprouted them to gleaming points–
Battleground. Sister’s Keeper!
Tim cast the shield spell into her aura. It coursed into and out of her armor to defend the impact. 15 MP stole from his supply.
Brother’s Keeper Leveled to 2.
Defended against a higher level Gnit.
Jil bounced off the gnit creature and staggered in the dirt but didn’t lose her feet. She regathered her arrow and ripped it loose. The tip punched deeply into the gnit’s back. It looked like a twenty pound leaping spider with steroid jacked legs and saber-tooth tigerhead and fangs. The arrow caught it in a joint above its leg, but the other five pumped just fine. Sproing! It sprung at Tim with fangs gleaming.
He cast Battleground and stabbed his knife at center mass. Its middle opened like Sauron’s Eye with a second set of chompers peeling back.
Crap—c-cat! Tim stabbed his dagger at its mouth. “Galvanize!”
Fangs scraped his knuckles. A blast of c-mana hit it in the throat, puffing its cheeks wide and blowing it backward. Tim swung his axe. Double Whammo cut its stomach open like an uneven zipper, draining orange aura and spilling guts.
Defeated Level 9 Gnit
It splat on the ground in a mess of limbs.
“Nice swing,” Jil said.
Tim shook the stinger in his hand. A swish of blood flew off a few fingers. He pressed Healing into the scratches across the top of his hand.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded and sent a Danger Sense ping into the tunnel. “How’d I miss that one?”
You’re low level.
Fair enough. At least a noticeable XP dump tingled inside several skill centers. The gnit was a nice boost into his stats, but he’d need five more of those to get over another level in Small Blades, which sat twenty percent into level 6. Self Defense and the subcategories of Parrying, Protection and Party Oversight all hovered around midway to next level. Ranger was close to 80% in level 7.
Draw absorbed enough MP from its corpse to bring his storage up to half.
Gnit must not have had much.
No. That’s not a highly magical creature. What they have was used on their stealth. Good job on the assisted kill.
Assist?
Jil stepped on part of the carcass and pulled her arrow free. “Is your hand numb?”
He shook his head. “I think my c-mana burned off the poison. I’m still planning to forage for ollow weed and anything else that might help my Ranger regen.”
“Sounds good.” She walked on a couple strides. “What’s Galvanize?”
“Oh. An old techno song my brother and I love. It’s kind of silly, but also pumps me up. I made songs part of my cultivation access.”
“Oh. Okay.” Jil let him have that one, for now.
His Danger Sense came back without any alerts. He sent another just in case. “See, you get me. I appreciate you both.”
He turned a palm and waited for the stykiller to swat a low five. When he didn’t, Tim blew a raspberry and moved on. He mouthed the beat and violin chorus while flowing in rhythmic stride. Chris would have laughed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jil joked.
“My finger, is on the button.” Tim bopped off the keyboard notes to his song in increasing intensity. “Move with me,” he said and strode to the beat. “Yeah, Jil. Watch out, world. Dryfu, you better catch on. Her finger is on the button.”
Dryfu played the bump on a log, bouncing on Tim’s shoulder with his appendages clung to his shirt.
Tim balanced on one leg and wagged a bent leg to the beat. “Come on, come on, come on,” he said in his best Q-Tip impression. “What’s our password, J money?”
“Galvanize?”
“My girl!” He pumped a fist, landed on the ball of his foot, and flowed into the next fluid step. Riding the invisible wave and sent another Danger Sense ping on the rhythm. “World,” he kept rappin’, “I think it’s time to…”
Tim taught her all the words he could remember, and soon J Money and T Slice were taking turns on the electronic violin breakdown. They giggled at themselves as they tried to outdo the other’s robotic “push the button” call out.
“Nice assist back there,” he told her as they took a break from rappin’ and dancin’. He didn’t want to wear the inside joke too thin. That was the most fun he’d had with a girl his age in too long. They didn’t have time for an awkward first date, but why not try and find some happiness where you can? More and more, her company cemented itself as his favorite. He hoped this trip would end well for both of them so they could share it more.
If he had to snapshot some of the choicest looks he captured from her, he’d label them under She’s somehow still here, and smiling.
“Don’t be too modest. I barely slowed it down before it jumped at you.”
“I’m serious. My cultivation popped it back, but if you hadn’t weakened it with your shot, I don’t think I would have snatched my hand.”
“Do you often stab at the teeth like that? Sounds like your odds will run out before long if keeping that hand is a long-term goal.”
Tim looked at his hand as though newly acquainted. “Hmm. Good point. Sorry, buddy. X’ing Hale would be disappointed in my lack of self care. We’ll do some finger and wrist stretches later.”
“X’ing Hale?”
“That’s my video yoga instructor. He’s great. Earning that name himself.”
“X’ing? Oh. Like exhale. Got it.”
“I thought it was funny.”
“Clearly.”
“You, too a little bit. I could tell.”
“Not so much with you as at you, but that’s okay. You may have saved my life today with that Sister’s Keeper spell, so I’ll go with laughing with you on that one.”
“I’ll take it.”
A sensation of danger pinged in his mind. The last one he sent found something. Tim froze in concentration before it fizzled away.
“What?” she mouthed.
He shook it off and kept going. “I don’t know yet.”
Jil relaxed. “You need some kind of signal when you freeze up like that but it’s not an emergency.”
“You want me to honk my nose?”
“Could you?”
“Sorry. Danger Sense reaches farther, but it is easier to lose the origin at that distance. I’ll keep on it.”
Tim charged off a Danger Sense pulse and threw it into the path of the former. He rode it like Marble Madness through dirt, rock, and tree, carving back into the groove of his original ping to regain velocity.
The signal took shape in a platoon of soldiers a mile away. Their magic was a different source than the artisans. A little less secretive at the cost of honor.
Tim followed his nose to a stone rolled exit. “I’ll go first in case my hunch is wrong and they want to kill us. You can stay here if you think it wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
“So, like every other time. Got it. Okay, off you go. I hope you’re right.”
Tim rolled the stone into the slot and put a hand out in surrender. A group of five horse riders armed in steel and vests decorated with flying turtles pulled up and reached for their swords. “Farars,” Tim called out, showed his vest with the matching images and the axe handle with the initials. “I earned this saving the burg you’re headed toward. Do you have a strainer?”
They eased a little but kept hands to hilt as their leader trotted closer. His four comrades filed in behind. Their horses were beauties. Bred for war and show. Tim kept his hands visible. “I’m one of a small party who discovered the nixstone spell and helped kill the artisan who led their invasion force. I have some intel I’d like to share in exchange for an alliance. We had to rogue level to save the burg, so a strainer would be great too if you can.”
“I know the one who wore that vest before you,” the rider said. “If I smell something off about your story it’ll be your head. My friend lost his life for them, though, so if what you have to say is true, you’ve earned a new friend. And a strainer.”
“Thank you. I swear it’s the truth.”
The leader had a thick frame and colorful tattoos showing under his armor. One formed yellow swords or magic beams up equal sides of his neck. His dark brown, closely cropped beard had inlets shaved up his neck to emphasize the tattoos like Blue Angel fighter jets soaring for his jawline. Can I call him Blue Angel? He asked Dryfu.
Please do.
Tim sent Analyze over the leader, only to reveal his name as Gregor.
He got right to business, sending their medic, Ky to apply healing salve on Tim’s knuckles, where the gnit’s fang cut him.
This was more than fine with Tim, noticing he was more drained than he’d realized after the fight. Might be the adrenaline wearing off.
Tim didn’t have time to lose his edge. He told their side of the story as they finished with their wounds. The bacteria reaction wasn’t terrible, but Ky said it was better to be safe. The mana from his Draw spell and Cultivation mana had both helped fight it off for now, but as they wore off, the bacteria could take effect. Tim could tell Ky was the kind of guy who took care of his stuff, and a warrior’s hands were the kind of tool Tim ought to be extra careful maintaining.
“Plus, your constitution’s dog balls. You plan on keeping it that low you better invest in tonics and added protections. This forest’ll kill you in your sleep.” Ky’s level gaze told Tim he wasn’t messing around.
“Thank you. Before this I had a bad back, so if there was anything I knew I could handle, it was a below average body.”
“But you’re Level seven already and have rogue leveled… how many times?”
“I’m still leveling. But this is my first rogue or leveling at all. Probably have another day or so where experience transfers directly into growth.”
Ky bobbed his head. “If you can wait, I’ll hold off on straining. Once I do, the leveling stops.”
Ky showed him a black net small enough to fit in his hand but stretchy enough to wraparound his hair. “I cast a spell on it, and it absorbs the chemicals from the storm, the Eiyero. One of the beauties of Eiyero is how smooth you feel acting. When it wears off you get such violent stabbing that you can’t control yourself. Some can’t even walk. It makes for a dangerous turn in battle if you’re not careful in how you time your withdrawal. Some don’t get that luxury and then you can either take more and return to hyperfocus or suffer through a week of the storm. If you survive. We spent a lot of money to buy my Strainer class. Without that, we wouldn’t chance the addiction and high fatality rates.”
“Fatality r—.”
“We can talk while we work,” Gregor interrupted, “and can do that while we work. Tim, Jil, with your skull spell still working, maybe we can partner in some experience gathering while we plan next steps.”
“Sure, what’d you have in mind?” Tim asked.
“You have Battleground yet?”
“I do.”
“Good, we’re gonna need you to cast that on our horses before we ride through the woods to get to the Krows. We’ve sent messages, but mostly to track down and coordinate support in reaction to the artisans’ invasions. A formal alliance and task force over this situation is only a formality for when we catch our breath.”
“We’re all for it,” Tim said. “Lead the way.”
Gregor did, and as he stepped past, a retro techno tune unspooled in Tim’s head. He rolled his shoulders in time with his hips and marched to the beat of song and coursing aura.
“Not again,” Dryfu said aloud and hopped into flight. “I wasn’t that bad in my past life.”
Tim saluted his friend goodbye for now and kept the beat-cultivation going. “This is how we do it around where I’m from, Greggy boy. Like this…” Tim said and charged Battleground for the horses.
Hip horse hooray… Ho… Hey…
Kill me quickly.