Micah’s cast was heavy and his room quiet. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to get his own room after all. He had spent the last few days leading up to the surgery reading, studying, and dozing off while he gazed out of his window—waiting for people to come visit him.

Now that it was over, he was doing the same. The doctors had told him to stay another day before he left their care. The crutches still stood next to his bed if he needed them.

Just two streets away, more than half the city celebrated the Harvest Festival, many by drinking themselves into a stupor. Last chance before the Tower opened up again on Tuesday.

The other half was working, many of whom who would have had stalls of their own in the years prior—[Gardeners], the main proprietors of the cultural side of it all. But nobody had found the Gardens yet, so they were busy ensuring they would have a job, still. Vegetable gardens were being made or expanded all around the city, and new fields prepared outside of it. Aside from things that were naturally planted in the Fall, anything that allowed for winter growth was high in demand. People wanted the same food they were used to.

Or so Ryan told him. He came to visit most often, Micah’s main source of information, but never stayed as long or came by as often as he would have liked. He always seemed distracted, too.

What had him so busy?

Prisha brought nice food. Everyone else only visited once or twice to check on him, before or after his surgery, but they definitely didn’t stay long. Many of them were busy celebrating the festival themselves.

Lisa had brought him a candied apple. He’d had troubles eating it in bed.

Micah never would have thought the worst thing about being injured was the boredom.

He couldn’t even practice spells because he might ruin the glue holding his bone together, something that made him want to study the effects of mana on alchemicals. But even doing that got tedious. It reminded him of when he was twelve years old and holed up on his room, studying alchemy on his own.

He was beyond that now. Why did the memories still haunt him?

It sucked. So he read his notes and tidied up a little. He studied ahead in his textbook or caught up in subjects where he was behind, even before school had started. He sat there and vegetated.

Ryan slowly slipped his feet off of the bedside next to him and groaned as he pushed himself up out of his chair. He didn’t even say anything; just stretched and cracked his neck as he got ready to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?”

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder and said, “I should get go—”

“What? No! Why?” Micah interrupted, almost reaching out to grab him. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

I’m bored, his mind shouted. He should stay here and play cards, or dice, or board games, or tell him about the city, school, the others. Not leave to do who-knew-what. If he did, Micah doubted anyone else would visit him on a Saturday while a festival was going on elsewhere.

“What even are you going to do?” Micah complained. “School’s out until Monday and it’s not like we have a lot of homework.”

Ryan stood halfway around the chair and rubbed his neck awkwardly. “It’s getting late and—”

“It’s a little past one.”

“Lunch will be over soon.”

“The school’s fifteen minutes away. Oh, you could have some more of my lunch?” He gestured at the plate on his bedside table where the half-eaten meal the nurses had brought him stood.

Fish, soup, mixed vegetables, and fried potatoes. It wasn’t bad, but it tasted just bland enough to make him think it was bland, and was just warm enough to think it was cold instead of hot.

“No, thank you. You really should eat the rest of that yourself, though.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“You need the—”

“I know.”

“Nutrients.”

Micah shot him a glare.

He raised his hands up. “Alright, alright.” Ryan sighed as he took a half-step around his chair and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “But I should be going, then.”

Micah stared at him with wide eyes. “Why?”

“I—” He sighed and dropped his hand. “I got into the habit practicing fire spells. I saw a book and I had nothing better to do, so …”

“Oh.”

“Can’t work out yet …”

“Yeah.”

“So yeah.”

Micah glanced down for a moment before he looked up and offered, “You could practice them here?”

“I— What?” Ryan said, hesitating with one hand on the chair. “You mean right here?”

Micah shrugged. “Yeah. It would be fine.” His finger twitched as he tried not to fiddle with his ring.

Ryan frowned and glanced back at the door. “I doubt the nurses would see it that way. I don’t think you’re allowed to cast spells in a hospital. Nothing above a light spell, anyway.”

“Yeah, but that’s the good thing about having a private room.” Micah smiled. “They don’t have to know.”

Ryan looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

He hesitated, but nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it might even be relaxing, you know? If you do it.”

The other guy furrowed his brows at that but didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked around at the door and checked the window before picking up his chair and shifting it a little further away from his bed, and its flammable cloth, into the middle of the room.

As he sat down and crouched forward with both hands out, Micah bugged him, “What are you practicing?”

“Just [Create Fire].”

“Aw, just that?”

He arched an eyebrow. “You practiced [Condense Water] first chance you got.”

“Yeah, because that’s useful for me. I need water.”

“And I just want to be able to start a fire, even if I don’t have sticks and stone. Plus, it’s the basis of anything else. Now, uh …” He looked up and glanced down at his cupped hands.

“Oh. Right.” Micah motioned locking his mouth and throwing the key away.

His friend sighed and fiddled with his hands, slowly rubbing them together and over one another as if he were cold. When he raised them up, a small puff of flame rose up and escaped into the air.

Fire. So easily. So close.

He’d barely finished when Micah spoke, “That’s different from what you did last time.”

Ryan’s gave him a quick glance, but was busy making sure none of the flames had caught anywhere. When he was sure it was fine, he sighed. “It’s a different spellscript. I found it in a book. I’m practicing the free-form spell method.”

“The who and the what now?”

“Free-form— The book just called it that. It’s where you practice three or more different versions of the same Skill so when you get it as a Skill someday, you have more freedom when using it. It isn’t as rigid.”

“Oh.” That sounded smart. Micah immediately felt like he should have done that with [Condense Water]. Why hadn’t anyone told him about it? He frowned. “But it takes longer, right?”

Ryan nodded and rubbed his hands flat against each other this time. Micah could see the air warp between them as it heated up and a single spark shot out prematurely, almost like leftovers from the last spell.

“Yeah. Sort of. I mean, not necessarily with simple spells like this, but definitely with more complicated ones.”

Was [Condense Water] simple? Micah didn’t know. It had taken him long enough to get it with just one version already. He knew he could add different versions later—you could always do that with Skills by expanding on them, similar to how he meditated on [Savagery] to add things like shoving a boot down Maria’s maw—but that was supposed to be hard in the beginning.

Harder than doing it from the start? He didn’t know. And he couldn’t even practice right now because of his stupid leg.

Argh.

He reached over to snatch the water bottle from his bedside table and drank; a tiny act of revenge against the world for not allowing Micah to magically make it appear himself. He wiped his mouth and watched Ryan complete his next version of the spellcast before he offered him the bottle and commented, “That looks more like [Produce Fire], though. What you’re doing?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Because of the puffs of flame?” He got up to take the bottle and nodded. “It’s only the first step, though. I’m doing it step-by-step for all four. I’ll have to learn to sustain them next.”

Micah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and … no small part of jealousy. Four? That seemed ambitious. He was putting a lot of effort into something that wasn’t even his Class. But somehow, Micah knew Ryan could make it work. He was always great at whatever he did.

And instead of scowling, he smiled when Ryan handed him the bottle back. Of course, he would do it the right way the first time. He always put a lot of effort into everything he did. Ryan was just diligent like that.

Micah watched his friend snap his fingers to make a flame like a candle pop up while he held the cold bottle in his hands, and smiled again as he made it dance from one finger to the next. It looked so easy. Only the tiny bit of strain on Ryan’s face revealed the difficulties he was having.

That could have been me.

Ryan snapped again and this time made a burst of sparks instead of a puff of flame. Micah knew he had made a mistake when he lunged to slap them out of the air. They scattered everywhere. Some went wide, headed for the floorboards and his bedclothes. Ryan lunged to slap those away with his other hand.

Micah pulled everything back and checked left and right to make sure none of the sparks had landed on his bed, but he thought they were in the clear.

They both looked at each other for a moment and glanced back at the door before Micah offered, “That was close?”

He put the blanket back and wiped it flat.

Ryan scratched his cheek as he stood up. “Yeah. Uh … Maybe I shouldn’t be practicing here after all?”

“Yeah.” Micah chuckled. “Maybe.”

He chuckled as well and put the chair away, next to his bed and the crutches that leaned against the wall there.

“I really should be going though, Micah. To get food and get some stuff done. I also want to look around the festival grounds with Lang and maybe my parents. Make sure you eat the rest of your food, okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s hospital food,” Micah said, poking at the fish head with his fork. “And it’s probably actually cold, now.”

“It’s only one more day,” Ryan told him. “I’ll be sure to scout out all the best places in the festival grounds so I can treat you to something tomorrow, then.”

His scowl disappeared in a moment and Micah lit up. “Thanks!” His friend was still headed for the door, though, and Micah knew his room would descend into silence the moment he left.

He put his blanket back. “Hey, let me walk you out.”

He paused at the door. “Didn’t the doctors say you should wait?”

“They said I should take it easy,” Micah corrected him, “not that I can’t move at all. They gave me the crutches in case I needed them and not moving around at all can’t be healthy either, right?”

He was already shifting his legs over the edge of his bed, gingerly using the butt of his right hand to prop himself up on the mattress so he wouldn’t touch anything with his cast fingers.

“Mm …” Ryan glanced at him and his crutches before he sighed. “Alright, then.”

“Yes.”

Micah slowly shifted his legs down while Ryan handed him one crutch after the other. His cast encased almost his entire right leg, so he couldn’t bend his knee. It had been slightly bent for him.

He pushed off with mostly his right armpit and his left hand to keep himself steady because he couldn’t grip the crutch on his right side properly. It didn’t help that he needed the extra weight there, but he made it work.

Making sure he had his coin purse for something else in mind, they headed outside. After only a few steps, Micah got the strange urge to race Ryan. Walking with crutches was weird. He ignored it and walked him all the way to the foyer of the Climber’s Guild, which was packed to the brim.

That was the final large group, he supposed—the climbers skipping out on the festival to get some studying done. The guild was publishing reports about the new Tower almost as soon as they got them, with climbers picking them up as they reached the front desk. Everyone wanted to know as much as possible before they headed in again on Tuesday.

That was half the reason Micah had wanted to come here. He’d avoided the news up until now, taking a break from the Tower, but he had questions, too. The largest, nobody could answer: What would the school do, now? But there were a bunch of little ones he could answer in the meantime.

When Ryan left, Micah waved him goodbye and turned around to join the nearest line. People looked at him strangely with his two crutches, but nobody stopped him from buying something.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

He just picked the newest collection of information rather than a specified report. Breadth over depth. It was a lot like the Beginner’s Guide Ryan had lent him half a year ago, actually, just loosely bound in cheap paper and without colors or illustrations.

There were posters hung out all throughout the guild halls and the city, with illustrations on maps, monsters, and the most important changes. The dangers. The rarer portals. The new monsters and floors.

It was part of the compromise the city and the guild had struck, along with the funeral they had held for the fallen.

It still didn’t feel like there was enough.

Micah bought two others at random and headed back, putting them aside and slipping onto his bed to dig into the first one on his blanket. He’d barely read past the introduction thanking the climbers who had lost their lives to collect this information when a knock on the door interrupted him.

“Come in?”

He frowned and looked around. Had Ryan forgotten something? Oh, or was the nurse coming for his dishes? He glanced at the plate and wondered if he could scarf down the rest in a few bites.

Annebeth opened the door and poked her head in. “Hey there, Micah.”

Micah blinked.

“Hi.”

She took a half-step around the door with something hidden behind her back and glanced at his bed. At his casts? Oh, or at the loosely-bound collection of papers? It could barely be called a magazine.

“Am I interrupting? I just wanted to come say hi and check on you.”

“What?”

He stared for a moment, then scrambled to put the book away and tidy up his hospital room, glancing back at her as he did. “Oh, no, no. You’re not interrupting. I was just reading. I’m actually bored half the time I’m here, so it’s great when somebody visits, you know? I wasn’t expecting you, though. Just let me clean up. Sorry, it’s hard to keep everything tidy when you’re stuck in bed and—”

He realized he was beginning to ramble and stopped himself, then slowed down his cleaning. He put the books away and tidied up the small surface of his table, straightened out his bedsheets, put his pillow up and fluffed it to get rid of the wrinkles, then put the cover over his half-eaten lunch.

It was as clean as he could get it without a mop and bucket. And maybe some wax. And a duster. And if he got some insulators—

No, no, no. Shut up, [Winter Cleaning].

Anne closed the door as she headed in, still with her hands behind her back. “Oh, you don’t have to tidy up. You should see my room when I haven’t cleaned up for a day. Total mess. This is nothing compared to it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. What are you reading?” She paused a step away from his bed and peered down at the titles.

“Just, uh, reports on the Tower.”

“Ah, like everyone, then.”

“Yeah?”

“No, I meant, uhm—” She glanced around and noticed his books on the table. “Oh, hey. A report on the new Sewers. I’ve read that one, too. I asked Saga about it, but she brushed me off.”

She pushed her lips to the side in a fake pouting gesture.

“Saga?” Micah asked.

“You didn’t know? She also got caught up in this mess. A bunch of others from our school did, too. I don’t know all of them, though.” She hesitated, then revealed what she was holding behind her back. “I brought you something.”

It was a candle. In Fall colors and with leaves decorated around it. It looked pretty, but … Micah took it off her hands and held it up, unsure of what to do with it. “Oh? Uh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” She sounded unsure and stepped aside to get the chair. Did she want to sit down? “I mean, I came to visit you guys, but then I thought it would be awkward to show up empty-handed, so I Iooked around on the way over and this was the first thing I saw—a candle stall. I think it smells nice?”

“Really?” He took a sniff and it smelled like … cinnamon? He wasn’t sure, but he thought so.

“Oh, I also have a lighter.” She fished around in her pocket and brought it out. “Hold it still.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I—”

Too late. She’d barely finished speaking when she sparked the stone. A tiny flame shot up, bobbing toward her thumb, but she didn’t seem to mind. Why would she? The wick caught and before Micah could do anything, she had already taken it out of his hands and set it on the table with a smile.

It was burning half an arm’s length away from him, now. If it fell over, his bed would go up in flames.

“There.” She was still looking at the candle as she asked, “I mean, it’s not that bad a present, right?”

“Huh?”

“A scented candle in a hospital? Hospitals also smell like disinfectant, copper, and whatever healing potion is popular that year, so it might be nice.”

Micah dragged his eyes away for a moment to squint at her. “Are you … being self-conscious about your gift right now?”

“Uh, sort of?” She rubbed her shoulder a little as if she were cold. “It was spontaneous, you know? I just grabbed the next best thing I saw.”

“Oh, no. It’s, uhm …” Micah hesitated. She would know if he lied. Would she appreciate a white lie? To a degree, maybe. But somehow, he doubted it. What color would those even be to her?

“It smells nice?” he offered. That was true. It reminded him of all the spices he would have loved to put on his hospital food in the last few days. He missed the cooking from home.

She nodded and took a deep breath, but her expression shifted into a frown as she glanced back at the door. “Perspit, I guess. I never did like that smell. It reminds me too much of blood, don’t you think?”

Did she mean the potion smell? Micah took a deep breath himself and caught it beyond the soap and candle. He nodded. Copper and disinfectant. A hint of cinnamon for the Fall.

“You don’t like it?”

She shrugged and finally sat, lighter still held loosely between her hands. “I guess I always preferred the healing nectar and its betters. Hespit, I guess? No, that isn’t right. Hesdew?”

Micah thought about it and decided, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She smiled really wide. “And that still amazes me. Even so, don’t you hang out with Lisa all the time?”

“Yeah, but she’s eclectic in the information she gives me.” Micah glanced at the candle. The wax was already beginning to melt. A tiny lake was pooling beneath the charred wick. “She says I should figure things out for myself. That way it’s more likely I’ll get a Skill.”

Anne nodded. “She has been reading too many of those ‘How to’ books.” She waved a little and the lighter disappeared in the palm of her right hand as she lifted it up to brush a strand behind her ear. “But I guess she has a point. And, she’s just a student like you or me. She’s too busy to teach someone else as well.”

“I guess,” Micah said and added, “especially with her grades?”

“I think she gave up on those, but yeah.”

They just sat there for a moment, Micah half-distracted by the flame burning so close to him, Anne fiddling with her lighter, and he realized: He didn’t feel panicked to find a topic to talk about.

Normally, he would be afraid she would grow bored with him and scramble to find something, but all he felt was a strange calm. He frowned at the emotion and shoved it aside.

“You said something about others? Saga? Is she okay?”

“She is now. I visited her, too, but she hasn’t been in the hospital for a few days now. She sprained her ankle in the Tower. Apparently, she landed in the, uh, fourth-floor sewers? I think.”

“Fourth…?” Micah wondered for a moment, but then remembered the posters that had been hung out. “Oh, right. The new counting system.”

Some people had already made a first attempt at getting a count started, looking for places that had no definitive way down and going up from there. It was giving people a headache, as the dangers of the new floors didn’t match the dangers of the old ones at all. Not just one-to-one, but also internally.

If Ryan and he had only had to fight stone golems and camouflage toads, they might have made it with ease. Without Clay it would have been a bit harder. But then things like Maria, the butterfly, and the Coldlight Bats could show up and it threw everything into chaos. A single floor could be as dangerous as three of the old ones depending on what the climbers encountered.

He wondered what the Salamanders’ floor was like. It was probably described in his collection.

“I’m … I’m not sure if I should ask, but where did you end up?” Anne said. “I was curious.”

Micah glanced at the candle again; at its flame burning so close. Did she know? That it really hadn’t been such a good gift? She didn’t seem to notice. Then again, why would she? It was just a candle.

He was afraid of getting burnt, of the pain of it, but wasn’t everyone? Everyone was wary of fire and they could still ignore it as they held matches, or lighters, or candles, or spells. It was just another tool to be used. A source of heat and light. Of scents. Or comfort, even.

If it was all that for people who were afraid of being burnt, who could be burnt, he could ignore it too, couldn’t he? He could act as if it wasn’t there. Nothing but a source of light. Or heat for his spells or potions. A weapon Ryan could use to keep himself safe. Just that.

After he hadn’t answered for a minute, Anne pulled back, “You don’t have to answer, of course—”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Micah scrunched up his face to remember her question and answered, “I’m not entirely sure. We headed for the Open Sewers and landed in something similar, but from there? Your guess is as good as mine. We went up one floor, too. That was a bad idea.”

“Oh. Is that why …?”

She gestured at his leg.

Micah nodded. “We just barely made it out.”

Her smile was soft as she said, “I’m glad you did.”

Micah’s chest tingled, but that was all. He didn’t feel as panicked as he once had. Wait, was that a bad thing? No, but ... He couldn’t help but wonder: What did she see when she looked at him, now?

What did he see when he looked at her?

A beautiful smile. A cheerful person. A nice person, who would offer that smile even to someone she knew was a coward and a liar. But beyond that? He barely knew anything about her.

She was a [Paladin] and a Heswaren, who were apparently rich and had a family tradition of civil service. Although, they were only a branch family. Their main family traveled a lot and looked down on them for settling in one place.

She was also a friend of the Chandlers and she wanted to become a climber. Her armor looked like a slim snowsuit. She had terrific grades and scores, but he didn’t know much about why.

Was she diligent? Intelligent? Did her family make her study? Did it come easily to her?

Did any of that matter?

Micah wanted to know more, but he didn’t know where to begin. What color was a white lie to her, maybe? No. Too personal. He started panicking again, which made him smile, and blurted out, “Hey, do you know of tangerines?”

“I— What?” She cocked her head.

“Yeah, have you eaten a tangerine before?”

She blinked. “Have I eaten a tangerine before?”

“They’re great. I had my first one like …” Micah glanced up as he counted. “Six days ago? We found some in a treasure chest in these blue preservation shells. Hold on, I got some here.”

He bent over to find his backpack and sifted through until he found the jar they were in.

“Look.”

“Wow. Can I see that?”

“Sure.”

He handed it over and she looked at the shells inside. They had kept themselves all this time, unlike his slimes. Those had died and melted into small piles of goop. Micah didn’t know if it was because they were outside of the Tower or if he had done something wrong. It wasn’t like he had fed them.

Maybe they could have survived with food or the right conditions? Fresh water and … a cool temperature?

“Are these from slimes?” Anne asked.

“You can see that, too?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Call it an uhm, educated guess?”

What did that mean? “Have you fought slimes before?”

“I’ve fought a lot of things before.”

Against summoned monsters, then? Lisa had mentioned something like that once. An arena. He also thought there was a course for it in school. Monster hunting or so. It reminded him—

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but … [Paladins] can heal too, right? I mean, you get, like, healing spells?”

She took one last look inside the jar and put it on his table next to his lunch. “We can, yes. Why?”

“Uhm, but you aren’t in the Dangers of Healing course?”

“Oh. No, I did a course like that when I was, like, nine? I think? I’ve had a first aid certification for years now.”

“You have? That’s awesome.” When Micah had been nine, he’d … been having troubles with school. He didn’t like to think about that time. His siblings hadn’t been around to help, either. At least, now he knew why.

“Nine, really?”

“Yep.” She puffed her chest and chin up a little and looked like she wanted to put her shoes against his bedside, but then thought better of it. “Training for us starts early, you know?”

For nobles? Micah didn’t know if he should ask her about how that was. It might be awkward to talk about how different they were. He wasn’t sure what else he could talk about, though.

For a moment, he hesitated, but then blurted out, “But do you like tangerines?”

Anne made a face and looked incredulous. “You ask the weirdest questions. What this you and tangerines— Oh, wait. Do you want to eat some right now?”

“Huh? No—”

She pointed over her shoulder at the door. “I can get you some. They’re selling a bunch of them … everywhere, really.”

“No, no, no.” Micah raised his hands up to stop her. “I’m not having you get me tangerines.”

“It’s fine. Really. Because if I had known you liked them so much, I would have gotten you a bag of them over a stupid candle.”

“The candle’s great! And I don’t like them so much. I’ve barely eaten three of them in my whole life.”

She cocked her head. “So why are you asking about them?”

“Because— I— Well—” How was he supposed to explain his own stupidity to her? Especially without lying? He pointed at his crutches instead and diverted by asking, “Hey, how about I come with you? We can both get some and maybe look around the festival market.”

Right. The festival still existed.

Anne seemed to think about it and bit her lip a little as she did. Micah tried not to stare and glanced at the door instead.

“Mm … I’m not sure it’s such a good idea for you to be walking around too much right now, though.”

He frowned and turned away to glance out the window. There was a festival going on right now. And she was here.

“Nope,” she said as if making a decision. “I’m not going to make you walk around all the way to the market for some tangerines. I can get you some, though. It’s really no problem. Plus, it’s not like you could stop me.”

That caught his attention and he swiveled back to look at her. “Huh?”

“You can barely stand. I could just speed-walk away.” She motioned a walking figure with two fingers and chuckled.

Micah needed a moment to process that. Was she making a joke? He squinted. “You wouldn’t.”

“I might.”

“That’s so stupid. I just want to walk around,” he protested.

“Tough luck.”

“I’m a [Fighter], dammit.” He slapped his bed lightly. “And an [Alchemist]. I should be able to walk around already, if only by making a potion or something.” He cocked his head and frowned. “Wait, is there a potion for that?”

“A potion that lets you stand?”

“Yeah.”

She made a face again. Bewilderment. “You [Alchemists] are all the same. Weird. Next, you’ll want a potion that can stop time or let you know anything.”

Micah thought about that too for a moment, but couldn’t help but nod. “Those both sound pretty neat, too.”

She laughed and got out of her chair. “I’ll get you some tangerines.”

Before he could protest, she was already halfway to the door and Micah had to call after her.

“Anne?”

“Hm?”

“I mean, it’s nice that you’re visiting, but … don’t you have better things to do?”

She was frowning as she turned back around. She walked back to lean against the chair.

“No? Why do you ask?”

Micah immediately felt awkward asking her something like this. It felt like he was fishing for pity or wallowing in his own. But he still wanted to know. “I mean, because of the festival and … I bet there’s a bunch of fun stuff for someone like you to do. Balls and parties. Meeting important people and stuff.”

“Someone like me …?” Her frown only deepened; then vanished as if hadn’t been. “Oh. Right. Yeah, well there is. My family always makes me go events this time a year. To meet people, as you said. But it becomes tedious, you know?”

“Tedious?”

She nodded. “Yep. I’ve been following them to events all day these last few days. This morning, they insisted we were going somewhere else, so I was, like, ‘But mom, I want to visit my classmates. You know, the ones who got injured in the Tower?’ And they immediately gave up.”

“Uh, what?”

She nodded again, more energetically this time. “Yeah, they were like”—she cupped a hand to the side of her face and put on a false expression of worry—”‘Oh. Oh, no. Your wounded classmates, you said? You do that. That’s only proper, Anne. Such a proper girl.’” She smiled and spread her arms out. “So now I’m here.”

Micah gaped with his mouth half-open. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s …” He chuckled and then tried, “Anne. Isn’t that sort of underhanded of you?” He meant it as a joke, but he wasn’t sure how she would take it being a [Paladin] of Truth.

Her smile never left her face when she heard him say it. “They knew what I was doing.”

Micah gave her a droll look. “Alright, then. If you say so.” He shifted to get something and lobbed in her direction. “Here, catch.”

She caught it easily and gave him a confused look. His coin purse.

“If you aren’t going to let me come along, at least let me pay. If only partially?”

“Mm …” She squinted at him and glanced down at the purse, considering, then tightened her grip. “Alright. I’ll be right back, then.”

“Thank you!”

He called after as she ducked out of the room, then he was left alone again, but it didn’t feel quite as quiet as it had before. A flame whipped. He looked at the candle burning next to him and thought about something.

With a quick dart forward, he blew it out. The flame was wiped away and a trail of smoke rose in its place.

Micah took a deep breath and stared at the wick, thinking, [Candle].

Nothing happened.

He frowned. He really thought that would work.

He pushed his lips left and right and then tried, “[Candle]. [Candle]? [Candle].”

Still, nothing happened, but for the swaying of the smoke left and right as it thinned. Weird.

Micah let himself fall back into his oversized pillow with a sigh. It turned into the tiniest curl of his lips. Still, [Lesser Resilience]. Recovery from. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad sign after all.