'You've improved well.' The NPC Instructor, known as Fallow, was pleased. 'You're still quite weak in the arms, but your swordsmanship's getting better.'

Ragen was striking the dummy with flowing strikes, not very powerful, but numerous and well aimed. 'I've been watching wolves.' He panted. 'They're smart, fast, so I'm learning to be quick too.'

'It shows.' The Instructor replied.

'I'm still not great, but watching them is helping, giving me ideas. Like-' He struck out with his sword as he spoke. 'I struggle to create openings in defence, but I've learned a way around that.' Ragen took one last swing at the dummy, gouging it. 'It took fighting a pack to figure it out!'

'Oh? You sound like you're gaining confidence.' The trainer looked pleased. 'Care to tell me more, or show me in the sparring ring?'

Ragen wiped sweat from his brow and then sheathed his sword, clumsily missing the opening of the scabbard with the point before finally sliding his weapon into its home. 'Sparring? I'm not sure.'

'Come on, there's no one else in the yard today, show me this revelation.'

It was true, the school was empty apart from Ragen and the Instructor. 'OK.'

The two crossed the dusty yard and entered the fenced area, the gate clattering shut behind them. The trainer drew a long sword from his side and from his back he took his buckler in the other arm. 'I'm coming for you, Ragen Mohon, show me your strength!'

Fallow slashed with a downward swipe while Ragen was still unsheathing his sword. The boy leapt out of the way and pulled his blade free, just in time to deflect a second attack. Swords clanged noisily together, and Ragen was pushed back with each connection of steel. Before he knew it, his back was to the wooden fence.

'I can't say I'm impressed.' The trainer regarded Ragen with inscrutable eyes. 'This is where you die.'

The sword came down to Ragen's shoulder, yet found only wood. The young Soldier rolled away from the attack, rising to his feet behind his Coach and placing the point of his short sword in the small of the larger man's back. 'This is where you die.' Ragen smiled.

'Well played.' The Trainer turned to Ragen with a bright smile... And his buckler. The round shield struck the youngster in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground. 'But the battle is not over until the enemy has died or yielded, and I did neither.' He said as the tip of his longsword pressed gently into Ragen's belly.

'I yield...' Ragen dropped his sword and bowed his head.

The Instructor sheathed his sword and shouldered his buckler, then grabbed Ragen by the arm and helped him to his feet. 'You are still new, still young. But you show intelligence, something I don't see often here.'

'Really?' Asked Ragen.

'Really.' The Instructor opened the gate and led the student back into the yard proper. 'Most people think only about overcoming their opponents with skill or power, but there are other ways. You've discovered one: using your environment to your advantage.' The trainer referred to his clash with the fence.

'Yes!' Ragen beamed.

'Tell me about your tactics.'

Ragen was more than happy to, having been recognised for his new accomplishment. 'It was the wolves.' He started. 'When you fight them alone, they use their numbers to flank you and surround you. They always managed to get me from the sides or behind while another distracted me from the front. But one time, when I ended up backed into a tree, they could only come from the front. I thought that it would work against people too. Only, with people you shouldn't back yourself into anything and risk trapping yourself. But I can get away with it, I'm smaller than everyone else, so I can move under their attacks and trap them against the wall.'

'Very good.' Fallow was pleased. 'Have you discovered anything else?'

'Yes!' Ragen was in his element. 'I can't fight one on one very well, the wolves are the same. What they do is feint, they back away from a strong prey and make themselves look weak. When the prey thinks it has an advantage, lets down its defences, the wolf springs back at it and bites.'

'That's a typical duelling tactic.' The trainer added. 'You bait or lead your opponent.'

'Yes, but I don't have much bite.'

'So?'

Ragen smiled knowingly. 'I can appear weak, weaker than anyone. And people will underestimate me.'

The trainer laughed. 'You really have discovered something useful.'

'I know, right?' Ragen laughed. 'It works against wolves, but I don't know about people.'

'Oh, it works.' The trainer assured him. 'But even using that advantage, you still require more skill and power. Do not let your sword training slide.'

'I won't.' Ragen gave a respectable bow. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.' The trainer bowed back. 'So, I have not seen you with your companion, Butler, for some time.'

'Yeah... He's been busy. That's why I've just been fighting wolves, I don't want to do quests on my own. But I'll be seeing him later today.' Ragen wiped his leather armour clean of dust.

'You should join an army, Ragen, and fight in the field, rather than doing quests. The experience will help you.'

'I've thought about it, I think I want to, but I'm a little scared. Also, Butler doesn't want to either, and I don't want to leave him, he's my friend.' The trainer listened quietly, Ragen continued. 'It is a little annoying, I want to see more of this world, but...'

'I understand, you are loyal. It is your loyalty that will make you strong in the field, it would benefit Hurdland a great deal.' Ragen listened intently, the Trainer continued. 'Anyway, you should go and see your friend. I will be here as always, when you return.'

Thank you. 'See you later!' He said as he ran to the academy exit and into Holta on Trine.

The city was easily navigated now, the streets not so confusing. Ragen could avoid those problematic areas where fights broke out and even muggings could occur, usually, but today was not one of those days, as Butler had arranged a meeting in the very centre of the tavern district. It was where Ragen had first entered the world, where he first encountered brutal violence that he may not be so fearful of now, but was still weary of.

The sun was low in the sky, the crowds were gathering and the taverns were filling up with energetic people. Ragen watched everything carefully as he passed each noisy doorway, making sure that no bar fights overflowed onto the street and the inevitable mass of spectators could sweep him up like soot in a shovel.

There were many mean faces in the streets, mainly those from the Fighting Pits looking to challenge others outside of their usual controlled environment. A fight to the death was a great challenge for those unarmed combatants, especially against an armed opponent. Defeating a Swordsman or Soldier without using a weapon was a great way for a Scrapper or Grappler to make a name for themselves, proving their superiority over someone with an obvious advantage. Ragen had not yet seen such a thing, although he had heard about a powerful Wrestler that was a champion of Hurdland, who supposedly could defeat whole groups of armed Amaratese warriors. Despite that, as he had not yet seen proof, Ragen hardly saw the need of the unarmed Job Classes.

Keeping his head down and blending into the crowd, Ragen hoped that he would not be noticed by anyone wanting to fight, and if he was seen, he hoped that his obvious immaturity would confuse people into thinking he was a child NPC. At first it was a hindrance, being young, as only NPCs would recognise Ragen as a player, but now he used it to his advantage, especially in such a rough city. The ability to remain unnoticed held great safety.

The street bent and Ragen came to face the light of the sun, long shadows were cast over the avenues and buildings of the city. Figures quickly darted from rooftop to rooftop, making bounding leaps from house to tavern to shop, then down to the streets and back up and over buildings again. Each figure, obscured by the bright golden sunlight, dropped pieces of paper one after the other, littering the streets with white. Ragen looked up as one of the people leapt through the sky above him. The player's jump was effortless, his landing without fault. As he travelled, he let loose a pile of paper directly above Ragen's head. The loose leaves spread out like thick snow around him.

Ragen did not mind, he just gazed up as the group of men and women passed him and made their way across the city. Jumpers! He was all smiles. They must be Jumpers! The smile soon left his face. If only I'd chosen that Job Class. Looking to the ground, Ragen swept up a piece of paper and read the text that was inked across it. A ceremony at the capital? The Red Front? He had heard the name, who hadn't at this point? But Ragen did not care much, he dropped the paper to the ground and moved on. The tavern where Butler would be waiting was close.

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Ragen made his way and found the building he was looking for. It was a typical wood and stone tavern with a hanged sign above its shabby doors. It depicted a dog tied up to a post and large brown and gold writing above it said The Lonely Mutt. The youngster looked through the windows, candle and fire light bled out, and people of all kinds sat at round tables with drinks at hand. Butler was standing at a table full of lightly armoured men, while the tables around them seemed charged and tense.

Ragen pushed through the doors and quietly stood on the inside of the doorway, waiting for Butler to notice him. It was a blond man who sat at the table that saw him first. He motioned to Butler who turned and then strode over to Ragen with a smile on his face. 'Ragen! Thanks for coming, I've got good news.'

'Oh?' Ragen asked as he peered around Butler, at the table of unseemly looking Soldiers.

'Yeah, it's about...' He lowered into a whisper. 'About your sister.'

Lauren? 'What about her?'

'An old friend's just come into the city, I've been talking to him and he says he can help us.'

'How much did you tell him?'

Butler placed his hand on Ragen's shoulder. 'Enough to get his help, nothing that'll get you in trouble.'

Thank God... 'How can he help?'

'He's got more contacts than me, I think he'll start with them. Anyway, come talk first.' Butler led the way to the table.

Ragen approached slowly. Three men sat with drinks in their hands and pamphlets scattered in front of them. Butler gestured to the leader of the group, a blond Soldier with a scar lined over his right eye. He peered down at a piece of paper in his hands, an unpleasant look across his face.

'Crow.' Butler started. 'This is Ragen.'

The man looked up from the paper he was reading and eyed the youngster in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable. 'You're the one, the kid?'

'Yes.' Ragen answered. 'Thanks for agreeing to help me.'

He looked back at the pamphlet with angry eyes, like he had not heard Ragen's thanks at all. Ragen and Butler stood in awkward silence, it was some time before Crow spoke again.. 'Let me ask you something, you too, Butler.' He held the pamphlet out for anyone to take. Butler did. 'Do you know what this is?'

'Commander Tallhart and the Red Front are being honoured at the capital. What about it?' Butler asked.

'Do you know why I'm here, Butler?' Crow picked up another pamphlet and stared at it.

Butler replied. 'In the city?'

'Yes.' Crow crumpled the paper in his hands.

Nervously, Butler placed the paper on the table. 'No.'

'I won't get in to it then, if news hasn't travelled this far. Let's just say that I was wronged, just for doing what was best. Now the capital is honouring someone who doesn't deserve it... They stole my glory.'

'I don't understand what-'

'Butler, you don't have to understand anything.' Crow stood from his seat, the wooden legs of the chair squealing against the floorboards. 'I'm loyal to my country.' His voice was loud and the other tavern patrons were alerted. 'But my country isn't loyal to me! The Hurdland elite are gaining power over us, they're richer than anyone, they control the armies and they're held in higher regard than every other warrior and citizen, and all of it's gained off the backs of us Soldiers. Yet they're nowhere close to bringing us victory over the other countries. I'm sick of it!' Voices in the tavern were raised in support of Crow.

What does this have to do with me? Ragen was perplexed. He backed away from the table, feeling that something was amiss.

'Hurdland needs a new path, it needs new leadership. We need to lead ourselves!' The blond man motioned to the people around him. 'You need to lead yourselves!' Crow's friends and the tavern patrons began to agree, unrest building.

Butler was confused, it was plain to see on his face. Ragen caught his eye and mouthed, “what's going on?” Butler simply shook his head, not knowing. The young boy waited several seconds more before finding his voice. 'Umm, excuse me?' Crow stopped his speech and looked on Ragen. 'What does this have to do with-'

'You?' He walked to Ragen and knelt down in front of him, his voice went low, too low for anyone else but Ragen to hear. 'I need your help.'

'You're supposed to be helping me though.' Ragen's voice was lowered just the same.

'Listen kid, things don't come for free. You help me and it'll earn you the right to ask for my help.'

'So why am I here?' Ragen was anxious.

'You're here because I'm angry and I want change. I thought I'd take my chances and recruit some warriors to my cause.' He gestured to the other patrons, and Ragen noticed them to be a gathering of players, all watching. 'What do you say? Do you want to cause a ruckus? You too, Butler. It all starts here.'

This isn't what Butler said it'd be. 'Sorry.' Ragen replied in low tones. 'I'm not interested, if you can't help me then I'm just going to leave.'

Crow's eyes closed to slits. His hand reached out and gripped Ragen by the arm. 'Think about it, Ragen. This world's greatest forces are lead by the most charismatic, unusual, intriguing people: Princess Ashara, leading the strongest in Amaratsu. Rafael, with his Silver Rams.' Ragen did not know these names. 'People are drawn to characterful leaders. Which got me to thinking. Butler here comes talking about a player, the only player I've ever heard of, who's playing as a kid. And wouldn't that speak wonders to other players, if we made an army of our own, with a kid at the head of it. Imagine the amount of people who would be drawn to the child leader, Ragen.'

'Leader?' Ragen gasped. 'No, no, no, that's not what I'm after. I just-'

'Oh no, don't worry about that.' Crow smirked. 'You'll just be a figurehead, I'll be the real leader, behind the scenes. You bring in support and I'll mobilise them into a force to take Hurdland back into the people's hands.'

'Who'll lead the country after that?' Butler interrupted.

'I suppose whoever the people want, maybe me. Maybe you, Ragen.'

'But really you mean you?' Ragen wished he hadn't blurted that out, but something in him wanted to continue. It was like arguing with his parents. 'It just sounds like you want power, not change, just for you to be in charge. I don't want to help you, and I don't want your help any more.'

Crow clenched his teeth. 'You're either with me or against me.' His hand gripped hard on Ragen's arm, then lifted the boy off his feet.

'Let go of me!' Ragen struggled.

'Everyone!' Crow stood with Ragen in his grasp. He spoke to the tavern patrons. 'This person disagrees with me!' Crow called out.

'What're you doing?' Ragen squeaked. What's going on?

Crow shouted loud. 'He doesn't want change, he wants us to remain servants to the scum in Garroway. What do you say?' He shook Ragen as the crowd booed. 'It seems that we're not so hard done to after all, we should just sit back and enjoy what's given to us.'

As the boos increased and the crowd became more angry, Ragen became aware of how Crow was manipulating the other into a frenzy, he being a casualty of it all, but by the time he could think of an argument to save himself, it was too late.

'What should we do with those who don't support us- No! With those who're against us? Those who're with our slave masters!?' Crow shook Ragen as he shouted.

The patrons became a mob, standing from their seats and chanting. Words like “punish” and even “kill” could be heard over the din. Ragen panicked, he tried to shake himself loose. Before he knew it, he was shoved into the crowd and the adults around him were pushing him around. Someone shouted “take his gear for the cause!”. That's when they started stripping his sword belt, his boots, even his armour. The young boy's thoughts were muddled and confused, he could not think at all. He searched for Butler but could not see his face. He thought he could hear his friend's voice calling out to him, but the shouts of the mob were too loud to be sure.

Why are they doing this? The hands pulled and pushed against Ragen, he could not escape their strength. It's just a game, why are they doing this to me? They've taken everything. Tears filled his eyes and he wailed like the child that he was. It was a noise that they all recognised, and it startled them. The assault calmed and Ragen was left face down on the hard wood floor, his tears pooling under his face. His sobs were muffled against wood. Crying was the only reaction he had.

It was only when Butler could finally be heard that some sense was regained, though Ragen dare not raise his head to find his friend.

'Crow, what the hell are you doing? He's my friend! Why would you do that?'

'Oh shut up, Butler.' Crow answered coldly. 'You don't have any friends. Why would you? You're too much of a wimp to go out on the battlefield. People don't trust you to have their backs, they don't like you.'

Butler went quiet, Ragen wanted to call out to him, but he was too afraid. He eyed the periphery of his vision, searching for the white bar.

'But Butler, you can be one of us. Join us now and help the revolution.' Crow crowed. There were some voices of dissent in the crowd, now that they were faced with a crying child, but Crow spoke over them.

'I...' Butler was stuck for words.

Butler... Ragen pushed himself from the ground, but a heavy foot pushed him back down. An argument ensued inside the tavern, some attempted to aid the boy, others played into the scene. That was the game after all. Ragen lost all thought of logging out. He was angry at Butler now, for putting him in this situation. 'How can you do this?' Ragen cried. 'Why would you?' He felt his face flush red hot. 'It's just a stupid game! It's not real! Why would you do this?' Tears welled in his eyes again. The role-play was clearly broken and the players backed away. The confusion between reality and this convincingly realistic game was brought to light, the abuse was real to Ragen, and the realisation that a child was handled badly by their own hands disturbed the mob around him.

Ragen sobbed violently. His skinny body convulsed and dripped with tears. When he made eye contact with Butler, his heart felt like it had popped and the pain was such that the game could not suppress it. He ran from the tavern on bare feet, out into the streets and to somewhere far away.