Ryan’s hallmates headed out of their rooms around Micah as he waited for his friend by the door. He stood with his two crutches and simple backpack he’d bought yesterday at his feet and tried not to draw too much attention. But of course, there were those who asked. A simple, “Tower,” and an awkward smile usually got them to move along—many of them had seen him during breakfast. Still, he glanced into Ryan’s room after every person to edge him along.

The guy had rushed by Micah in the hall just a few minutes before, with damp hair and in running clothes, promising him he’d hurry. Apparently, he had taken up jogging again. It’d only been six days. Was that alright?

Maybe it was even good. Micah didn’t know. He himself was planning on doing physical therapy, soon, courtesy of the man who had injured him in the first place paying for the bills.

For now, he was just eager to get a move on. He … couldn’t move as quickly as before, he’d learned during the festival yesterday. He also needed breaks sometimes for the stupidest of reasons, like his itchy cast. He’d already missed two days. He didn’t want to be late.

“Micah,” Alex greeted him on his way out, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, “good to see you’re still kicking. ‘Morning.”

He was wearing the school uniform also, choosing the darker options. Most of the people Micah had seen today were, confusingly. A show of solidarity? More likely, he had missed some school rule about wearing the uniform after a tragedy. The events of last week certainly counted as one. The city was planning on making a monument.

Alex’s casual attitude toward his wounds was like a breath of fresh air. Even Lisa had seemed awkward about them.

“‘Morning.”

Micah gave him a slightly warmer smile than the others, assuming he’d wander off like the rest of them, but he joined him at the wall instead, standing too straight to actually lean against it.

“I heard what happened. ‘Looks like you’re one of the ones worse off. My condolences. I hope you get well soon.”

Micah made a face at the mention of the others, but brightened at the wishes. “Thanks.”

Anne had told him a bit about their classmates on Saturday after she had gotten back. A poor topic to talk about, probably, but the company and food had made it better, and the company the food besides.

Apparently, thirteen in total had gotten lost inside the Tower. Nobody had died—thankfully. Aside from him, the most serious wounds were broken bones, concussions, and second-degree burns. In one case, a near drowning. Most had gotten out fine. They had all gone to lower floors, first or second ones in mind, where the changes were easier to survive. Still, it seemed the lowest floors of the new Tower were as difficult as the fourth of the old one, guessing by the sentient monsters that had taken up residence there alone.

Kobolds, for one. Plural. Different again, slightly, from the ones he knew and had discovered.

That made him wonder how the Registry was handling this mess. Were they giving out rewards …?

“You’ve got Tower Studies now, too, right?” Alex asked, interrupting his thoughts. “First subject?”

Ryan chose that moment to step out of the door with his blazer in the nook of his arm. Another of his roommates followed him and closed the door behind them, but didn’t lock it, which made him turn around with a scowl and do it himself.

Alex nodded as if he appreciated it.

The third room member didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but he didn’t walk off either. Brent, Micah thought his name was. He was a little taller than Ryan even and always seemed a little restless in a drowsy way, like he had only gotten an hour or two of sleep or even pulled an all-nighter.

Aside from that, Micah didn’t know much about him. He didn’t have much to do with Ryan’s roommates.

“Tower Studies?” he said. He reached down for his backpack. “Oh, yeah. Why? Oh, are we in the same class?”

He perked up a bit at that. Familiar faces were always a good thing. Micah wanted to make more friends.

Alex smiled. “Yeah. Well, not for long, possibly. It depends on what they say during the assembly today.”

“Assembly?” Ryan asked, turning to them as he slipped one arm into his blazer. He glanced back at his door with a frown and froze. “Meaning mandatory school uniform?”

“Hadn’t you heard?” Alex asked. He seemed genuinely surprised, but Micah hadn’t known either.

Ryan rolled his eyes and went right back into the room, presumably to get the rest of his outfit.

Micah was suddenly glad he wore his regularly. Switching into something else now would have taken ages with his casts. He’d almost had to ask his roommates to help him this morning.

“When did you get back yesterday?” Alex turned to him. “Were you here over the weekend?”

“No, we got here last night, after dinner.” Micah shook his head and tried to slip his backpack over his shoulder.

The other guy noticed and reached for its other strap, saying, “Oh, let me take that.”

Micah felt the momentary urge to pull back and insist he could carry it, but Alex was treating it almost like an afterthought. It was fine. Probably. He gave him a tight smile and said, “Thanks,” instead.

The other guy didn’t seem to notice or care.

Ryan slipped back out, in his full uniform this time, and stepped past them to lead the way, glancing back as he did. “So we have to go to the guild gymnasium, then? Or the bio one? Is there a notice somewhere?”

“Most likely. It was a rumor going around school,” Alex told them as he followed after. “And neither, actually. We’re supposed to go to our classes first and head to the assembly with our teachers.”

“It’s stupid,” their other roommate said, surprising Micah a little he was still sticking around. “Why not let us head there right away? It would save time. It has got to suck walking around for you, right?”

He nodded at Micah, who felt a little put on the spot. Of course, it was uncomfortable. You didn’t mention that.

“Uhm, it’s okay, I guess. You’re Brent, right?”

“Yeah.” He held a hand out, then noticed Micah’s fingers and switched his to his left hand in a jerked motion.

Micah hugged his left crutch with his arm for a moment to reach over and shake it across Alex, who had to stop walking or push through them.

“Micah.”

“Speaking of roommates,” Ryan said. He held the door at the end of the hall for them. “How were yours?”

Micah took a deep breath and let it out in one exasperated blow. “They were … fine, I guess. They asked a bunch of questions. Vladi, too. Until Lahn noticed—” He broke off, remembering something, and smiled. “Oh, right. Lahn noticed I was describing a report he’d read. Hey, Alex, can you hold my bag open for a moment, please? I want to get something.”

He shrugged and their group slowed to a crawl as Micah fished out the report he’d read. He flipped it open to a marked page, turned it over, and held it out for Ryan, who took it off him.

Alex closed his backpack and they headed down the stairs, sticking to the warmth of the Guild building for as long as they could before they had to cross the courtyard, even if cutting through it might have been quicker.

Ryan quickly went from being mildly curious to engrossed with the description in the report, about one of the Open Sewers’ floors. One of many people were to watch out for on higher floors.

That was thanks to them.

Ryan seemed to think the same because he glanced up at him and asked, “Hey, can I borrow this? This is yours?”

Micah smiled. “Sure.”

He closed the report in a tight grip and thanked him before tucking it away in his own bag.

Alex looked amused by the exchange.

Brent didn’t seem as interested by the book, but he did pick up the topic. “Oh, right. You got those injuries in the new Tower, right? You have a what? A, uh, broken leg?” He easily walked ahead, slipping around to face him one step behind Ryan.

“Uhm, yeah?”

“That’s got to suck. And hurt, right?” He scratched his cheek. “So you probably have something to help with it? Against the pain? I heard you were an [Alchemist]. Do you make that yourself?”

“I— Uhm, my own medicine, you mean?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. I was just wondering, in case I ever needed to hit you up, if you do.”

“I mean, sometimes,” Micah told him. “Not this time. This is a little out of my league and I can’t cast spells while I’m recovering.” He gave him an awkward shrug. “You could come by the workshop and ask any of the others if you needed something though, I think? If it’s allowed.”

He had no idea what he himself was going to do in the workshop now. Sit around and spin on his chair? There was only so much reading he could do before his brain started melting.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I might.” Brent glanced away as if suddenly disinterested and said, “That’s fine. Get well soon, okay?”

“That’s the plan.”

They entered the foyer of the school’s guild building and he pointed in another direction. “I have to go that way. See you guys around?”

“Sure.”

“Later,” Alex said and they raised a hand in goodbye as he left.

Ryan seemed happy to avoid the exchange.

Micah frowned himself. That had been awkward. He wasn’t quite sure why, though. He squinted as they walked down the foyer. At the other end of it, he had a stray thought. “Did he—” He leaned over to whisper to the others, “Did he just ask me to make him, ah, recreational alchemicals?”

Alex laughed. “Why, yes. Yes, he did, Micah. I was wondering why you didn’t accept. That can’t have been the first time somebody asked you, right?” He glanced over at Ryan as he said it and Micah got the idea he was insinuating something.

He had no idea what, but he was still flustered. “Oh, no. No, I uh— I mean, I really can’t make anything right now anyway, so it doesn’t matter, right?”

He glanced at Ryan, looking for any kind of reaction on his face, but he only seemed to now have noticed the exchange and glanced after Brent with a frown as he opened the other door there.

Alex justled him a little. “Don’t worry. I bet if you ask him after you’ve recovered, he’ll still want you to make something.”

“Huh?” Micah was confused. “Why would I do that?” It wasn’t like he wanted to make something that might get him in trouble. Plus, he wasn’t sure he wanted to make anything that messed with people’s minds.

“Aren’t you a levelist?” Alex asked, clearly confused himself.

“What? No.”

A levelist? So someone who focussed on the improvement of their own Class over everything else, even the quality of their advancement in some cases. He wasn’t one of those—

“Really?” Alex said with high brows.

—right?

Micah thought about it. His only real interest ever since he had gotten his callings had been alchemy. Not even as a Path, but just as something he could do, something to occupy his time that he could experiment with. He’d actually pursued it to the negligence of his truth Path … and of everything else, his family, friends, physical health. He had spent summers in his room and gone into the Tower unprepared just because he hadn’t leveled quickly enough.

Was he a levelist? Not intentionally.

Alex was looking at him expectantly. Ryan seemed mildly curious as he opened up the final door into the cold ahead.

“No. No, I just uh … I need a hobby,” he finished lamely.

The guy smiled at that. “Don’t we all?”

There was a small crowd in the hallway outside their classroom, with a few familiar faces. Myra for one. Cathy was another. With Alex, that made at least three people he knew here.

Surprisingly, the crowd was rather small. Micah found himself asking how large the classes were supposed to be. It looked like it was fewer than twenty. When Mr. Sundberg arrived, he didn’t wait long and directed them toward the main gymnasium in the guild without letting them into the classroom first.

They filed into rows with empty seats alongside the rest of the school, Micah sitting near the exit. It wasn’t long before they began, but it didn’t seem like everyone was present yet. He looked over the other rows while Mr. Walker made his address and noticed the many other seats that were unclaimed.

There were definitely fewer students around than before. He was missing faces he had grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. Come to think of it, had all of Ryan’s roommates even been around this morning?

He thought one of the beds had been oddly well-kept.

Why were so many absent?

When Ms. Denner took the stage, everyone went quiet and sat upright, Micah included. He turned to the stage. All week, he had been wondering what she would say today. He would listen when she did.

She had a thin collection of papers with her that she stacked on the podium and seemed oddly absent, to the point where it seemed worrisome. It wasn’t a good start. Normally, she looked like she was ready to jump up or move, she would kick her legs idly on whichever chair she sat, but none of that restless energy was present here. She cleared her throat and gave them a tight smile.

“Good morning students. I’m glad to see so many of you with us this morning, especially after the recent events. I’m sure a lot of you are wondering why we called you here and we will get to that in a moment, but first, I would like to ask for a minute of silence for the climbers who fell after the events of the Saturday before last.”

She looked at them for a moment before she placed her hands on the podium and looked down. The crowd followed suit in their seats. And for an awful moment during it, Micah was just glad she hadn’t said, Climbers and fellow students, instead.

But in a way, he reminded himself, climbers were his peers now. Even if he didn’t know them.

When she raised her head, it was the first time Micah had waited for something and felt time had passed as it should.

“And to our own members who were caught up in this mess, directly or indirectly, we wish a quick recovery from any ailments they might face. We’re glad you’ve returned to us safely. Recovery, it would seem, is the priority right now.”

Had she glanced at him when she said that? Probably not. Micah looked over the crowd for people, but even excluding Ryan, he couldn’t count thirteen people with obvious injuries. He did see Saga at the edge of a row just like him with a bit of a brace peeking out over her ankle.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

How long would she have that?

“And yet, this event will have long-lasting effects on our city, our nation, and our future as a whole. It will also have an effect on our school and your studies.” She read the next bit off her notes, licking her lips as if she had a dry throat before she did, ”The current record time for a group of climbers to have returned from the Tower since last Sunday has been nine hours and thirty-seven minutes. The current record of floors climbed by any group of climbers since the Saturday before last has been nine as well. Not everyone of that group made it out alive.”

She paused, letting that reminder sink in, before she went on in a slightly brighter tone, “But thanks to the combined efforts of the Climber’s Guild, city, and the people who have journeyed into the Tower since, we know enough about the changes that the public may gain entry as of tomorrow—I’m sure you’ve all heard of that. Climbers will be heading into the Tower as of tomorrow to learn more about its changes, conquer its floors, and search for the Gardens and any other information that may benefit our city during these times.

Still, we cannot do so with a clear conscience. These climbers are stepping into a barely lit room. There is no conceivable way that we could ask the same of regular Tower Studies courses and children, as schools have been doing for over a century. Not yet, at least.”

A surge of movement went through the gymnasium as people shifted in their seats and threw comments over the seat at one another, and some homeroom teacher’s shushed them to stay quiet.

Had that just been a confession?

“However, this does not mean we will not continue to educate you,” Ms. Denner pressed on, “to give you the best place and opportunity to train, study, and become the greatest versions of yourself you can be.

Nine hours for the best. Five for the worst. As obviously, practical lessons inside of the Tower have proven unfeasible during these times, we will teach combat training here, on campus, instead. And instead of books and lessons on the old Tower meant to supplement those lessons, we will have you study and discuss the information gleaned from others. Your seniors.”

Micah frowned. So they were going to study reports, then? Without actually heading in themselves? He glanced to his side and saw many other frowning faces. They had not come here to just study theory.

“And when the time is right,” their principal went on, drawing the moment out, “you will be required to put that training and knowledge to use.”

Finally. Micah sighed and felt a weight lift from his chest. That sounded a lot more like what they wanted. But it still begged the question of when? When would that be? Soon, hopefully?

If not, Micah wondered if they could just head into the Tower on their own. If only for practical reasons.

“Now, as I’m sure a lot of you know, we had planned on giving you a final exam at the end of this school year for your Tower studies courses. It would have resembled your entrance exam—an excursion, where you would be required to stay in the Tower for one night, at the least, in a group. Your teachers would have judged you based on your reports and spoils from that excursion. During this exam, you would have been allowed to climb beyond the third floor.

In the light of current events, we will be requiring you to head into the new Tower only twice during this school year, with the same expectations—out of our hands now, to a degree. The longest it has taken a group of climbers to return from the new Tower has been five days.”

Micah didn’t blink at that, but many others seemed surprised. Ryan and he had been in there for almost three. Just two more … sure, the sanitation would have driven him mad, eventually, but they could have done it.

Whatever it took.

“These two exams will be before the end of this year and before the end of your school year, although with one minor exception: It is not clear to us yet how high you will be allowed to climb by the time these will take place. That depends on two things: The information that is uncovered about the Tower until then, especially the floors you will be traveling on, and yourself—your performance.

“Skills, levels, exams’ results, team compositions, essays, behavior, age.” She held up fingers in counted as she listed them. “Everything will weigh in. It will be up to you to decide how high you are allowed to climb. By your actions, you will reap your rewards.

But until then—aside from these two exams—entering the Tower during school times will be forbidden under threat of expulsion.”

She’d been winning the crowd over, Micah knew. He had already been calculating how quickly he could get this cast off and train in his mind. A month? Less than that? He could get started on spells earlier than physical training. But with that last sentence, she lost them.

Expulsion?

“Now, I can tell a lot of you are unhappy about this,” she placated them. “A lot of you want to head into the Tower right away. You feel as if you are missing an opportunity. You feel as if you are missing history in the making. I ask for your patience.

Five days, I remind you. Five days, it took multiple groups to come home to us. Nine hours for the best of the best facing a lucky situation. I have no doubt these numbers will subtract over time as we learn more, but until then, there is no way we can ensure your education, let alone your safety sending you into what we know nothing about. Nor can anyone else. No school in this city is allowing their students to head into the Tower in the time being. We had to fight and plead and ensure your competence in light of the changes to obtain the right to give you access before the year ends. This school and its students, we are all in this together. We are all affected.

So we ask for your patience—and opportunism.

Use these three months to train, to prepare, and to excel; to become the best versions of yourself that you can be until it is time. Prove to us how ready you are. Then prove to them, the Guild and the city, the others, that you can do this, that you are worthy of aiding in this time, and give us the tools we need to aid you.

This is a test to see how these people will treat you. You need to ace it if you want free reign into the Tower during your stay at this establishment.

I, for one, believe in you and your ability to do this. As do all of the faculty of this school. We believe in you whole-heartedly and eagerly await your performances. We hope you do as well.”

She took a deep breath and glanced back at the rows where the rest of the faculty sat, as if to reorient herself. Again, she licked her lips and frowned. With a quick flick of her hand, a bottle of water flew away from an empty seat and drifted into her hand. She screwed open the cap and took a quick sip, then wiped her mouth as she screwed it again and placed it aside.

Another exam, was all Micah could think. In a way, it was fitting. He had another three months.

“Now, as a further consequence of the events of this last week, we will be required to reschedule your classes as we adopt a partially new curriculum. We will not assign these to you. That is not what we believe in. By tomorrow, a preliminary programme will be handed out by your teachers in class and hung up on all the billboards throughout campus. Once again, you will be asked to hand in your course plans in two weeks’ time, by Friday in eleven days.

That is where I am proud to share good tidings in this dour situation.” She turned to the side, at the faculty again, and stretched out one arm toward them as she said, “Our very own Mr. Walker reached level forty recently in light of how he performed during the recent events. Congratulations, Mr. Walker.”

She started applauding and half the audience jumped in. The other half needed a moment to catch up, but quickly joined in their ferocity, if only out of habit. Level forty in a single Class was an achievement anyone would applaud. At twenty, most people’s training was considered completed. Thirty was the level of masters who would train apprentices of their own. Forty was what most people achieved by the end of their careers—or height if they put the effort in and focussed on a single Class.

At least, so went the adage.

Mr. Walker stood up and inclined his head in thanks, gesturing in a pacifying wave after a moment to quiet them down.

“We here, the Registry, and the Climber’s Guild are all proud to count him among our colleagues and staff.

As a result of this achievement, he and two others from the Registry have volunteered to offer you and any future students of our school guidance with deep appraisals over the course of your time at our school, granting you a deeper insight into your callings so you may make more informed decisions about which Path you want to take.

For any of you who would like to take them up on their offer, schedules have been posted in the foyer of the guild building where you may sign your name to make an appointment. Even if you are sure about your Path forward, you can sign up to garner a deeper insight. Who knows what might happen?”

She smiled and seemed somewhat in better spirits than before she had held her speech. A lot of the students were glancing at Mr. Walker and Micah needed a moment to remember what a deep appraisal even was.

Rare and expensive was what he thought of at first glance, but it was something the meticulous had done to fine-tune their advancements with insights about which Skills influence one another and how they might gain others. Some people did it to find a Class to consolidate many others into—clutter Classes, mainly—to lose levels and advance again quicker.

He didn’t really know if it was worth having something like that done when he was just level fourteen total. It seemed like too much. But still, if they were offering he would take it and thank them.

With another deep breath, Ms. Denner pushed on, “And with that, I leave you to return to your Classes. For the time being, you will follow your current schedules. See to the billboards for room changes on the practical Tower Studies and other lessons affected by these changes. And thank you for your attention and patience.”

She stepped away from the podium. The audience applauded for a moment, but not all. Here and there, Micah saw small clusters of students who stayed out. He could only clap softly himself because of his fingers and didn’t even know if it was worth it.

Three months.

He had been impatient for less. But the drive behind his impatience alone wasn’t a bad thing. He just had to use it the right way this time.

“Whoever the ‘Dwarf’ is,” Lisa said with air-quotes; her food tray levitated for a moment before she moved her hands back to hold it, “must be feeling pretty shitty about herself right now.”

“You think so?” Micah was balancing his own tray in one hand while he limped over to the nearest table. Ryan had carried his stuff over first to free up his hands, so Micah was using the momentary distraction to do it himself.

The moment the other guy turned around, his face settled into annoyance. Micah gave him a helpless smile.

“Yeah. The ‘Dwarf’ redecorates the entire Tower”—again with the air-quotes. Micah was half-convinced she was doing it just to show off her levitation trick—”and we consider it a national tragedy. Everybody is freaking out. Probably not the effect she had in mind. Either that, or she’s a sadist.”

“They have been doing this for over a hundred years already,” Micah offered, “if ‘they’ even exist.”

“Or she just doesn’t care,” Ryan threw in. He took Micah’s tray away from him and held his other crutch out.

“Almost made it.”

“Sure.”

The moment his hands were free for a brief moment, Micah belatedly added air-quotes for his “they.”

“Or that, I guess.” Lisa slipped onto the bench opposite him and for a moment, Micah felt weird as he sat down. Normally, a group of cheery social kids sat here. Micah only knew a few of their names. Mary? And, uhm, he thought one was Julius, but he wasn’t sure. Now, the table was empty.

Had they left?

“But the ‘Dwarf’ joke definitely didn’t land.”

“Joke?” Micah frowned. “And why do you keep on putting Dwarf in air-quotes? Stop doing that.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “We don’t know if it’s the Dwarf. The signature says ‘the little girl with the beard.’ Emphasis on beard. It doesn’t say ‘Dwarf.’ It doesn’t even say ‘the bearded little girl.’ If she had wanted to sign it that way, she should have just written ‘elele lafka,’ or ‘elele lafkae’ if she wanted to be a stickler for stylistic devices. You have to get that harmony.”

“Why am I not surprised that you speak Dwarfish?” Ryan asked, shoving a speared broccoli in his mouth.

Lisa just smiled. “But even if we lack the context to understand it, ‘elele o lafka.’ It’s clearly meant to be humorous.”

Jason leaned over on the other side of the table all the sudden and spoke up, “Wait, so you’re telling me someone burned graffiti into the Towers so they could end it with a bad joke?”

Micah darted his eyes over at him. He hadn’t even noticed the tall guy sitting there. This was the first time he was seeing him angry, or at least frustrated, instead of oddly idealistic, though.

Because of the writing?

“You don’t think it was the Dwarf?” Micah poked his brain.

He gave him a strange look. “Do you?”

He gave him a helpless shrug. He didn’t know. Nobody did. That was kind of the point.

Whoever had written those inscriptions had done what no other could do—harm the Towers’ stone. All five of them and all two-hundred or so odd entrances at once. He assumed all Anevos’ Doors had been marked. And it had happened at the same time as each other and the changes.

Clearly, there was a relation.

But even if it was a person who had done it, it didn’t matter. Every major figure of myth and religion hadn’t contacted them for over a hundred years. Why would anyone assume it would be any different for the next century?

If they could figure something new out, sure, that would be great. Then Micah might start pointing fingers and asking questions—because they better have a damn good right to scrawl on those stones and change things without warning.

But until then? Why get frustrated over it? He honestly had other things to worry about. And there were probably people more qualified, connected, and knowledgeable than him looking into it anyway.

Jason saw the expression on his face and looked exasperated. “Well, that’s just great. Our most sacred national and religious treasures, five of the world wonders, are vandalized and nobody even cares.”

“Who are you even?” Lisa cut in before Micah could explain.

“And why are you sitting here?” Ryan added. They sounded almost hostile all the sudden.

“Oh, this is Jason,” he rushed to say, gesturing as he introduced them. “He’s a friend. Jason—Ryan and Lisa. Ryan, Lisa—Jason. You know, he’s Alex’s friend? The religious guy?”

Ryan glanced between the two of them for a moment before he almost reluctantly held a hand out for him to shake.

Jason huffed, picked up his tray, and stormed off, leaving the table entirely to go someplace else.

“What was his problem?” Lisa asked.

“He’s usually a lot nicer,” Micah explained. “He just believes in the Shepherd over the Dwarf. ‘Probably isn’t too happy about the signature. Oh, and he’s probably extra grumpy because his Shepherd’s Club is bound to fail.”

“Shepherd’s Club?” Ryan asked, raising one arrow and glancing back at where Jason disappeared in the sea of tables.

Micah winced a little. “Yeah. It wasn’t too subtly named. And even if the school had allowed it, he wouldn’t have gotten enough members. And then with all this chaos happening and—” He broke off, finally finding an opportunity to ask what had been plaguing his mind all morning.

“Are people leaving?”

They both scowled.

“Yes,” Lisa said. “And only a few of them aren’t cowards. I heard most are reconsidering their entry plan into the Tower business.”

He needed a moment to decipher that one and nodded in understanding, “Ohh.” Glancing around the shrunken crowd, the cafeteria really wasn’t as full as it once had been. While he appreciated the lower volume and free seats, he almost missed the people who were gone.

“Hopefully, some will come back,” he mumbled and spoke up, “Come to think of it, hopefully none more will leave.”

“After Ameryth’s speech?” Lisa asked. “It’s likely. People are going to try their chances elsewhere or just strike out on their own instead of waiting three months. They have a whole new Tower to explore. And then, as I said, there are the others.”

Micah felt like she was being a little harsh. Just a week ago, climbers had existed in all sorts of varieties—laborers for crystals, wood, stone; students, instructors, hobby climbers, levelists, adventurers, and most of all, gardeners. Not everyone was out for the dangers.

Micah wasn’t even out for the dangers, he had to remind himself. He wanted the best ingredients.

Just because they didn’t want to go into an unstable Tower, that didn’t mean they were cowards.

“On that note,” Ryan spoke up, “how are you? You dodged my question in class earlier, but I know you have to be itching to do something.”

“I am,” Micah said, “both literally and figuratively. But I’m fine.” He bent down to itch his cast carefully, noticed their doubtful expressions, and added, “Really. I’m not going to be doing anything stupid in the near future—or ever, if I can help it. I just need to find something worthwhile to do to have occupy my time until then. I was thinking of furthering my Path, but I don’t think that alone will cut it. Like I told Alex, I think I might really do need a hobby. Maybe like … learning an instrument?”

Even as he said it, Micah wasn’t convinced.

Ryan, at least, nodded, “Sure, you could. Do you have an instrument you would like to learn?”

He scratched his arm. “I don’t know? I’m really not sure on that one. I’m just … I need to do something.” He glanced at Lisa. “Could you teach me a little more about essences? Something useful?”

She glanced up from her food. “Today?”

“No. I mean, when you have time. Of course.”

“Oh, then yeah. Sure.”

“Thank you.” He glanced over at Ryan. “That’s one thing, at least. I bet I can figure out another.”

Ryan frowned for a moment before he put on a thoughtful expression. “Some of your peers are always in the workshop, right? Even if you don’t have classes, they’re always making something there?”

“Uhm, yes. I think so,” Micah said. “Why?”

“I’m not sure. I have an idea but I have to drop by the Guild after school to get the rain jacket first and I wanted to drop by home afterward just to check in with them. Maybe we could go to the workshop afterward?”

“Are you going to tell me what your idea is?”

Ryan squinted in thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Because then you’ll run off and do it on your own, and I need something to occupy my time. A hobby of my own.”

“Mm … Alright. As long as it’s something useful,” Micah told him. “But remember, I can’t move mana.”

“I know, I know,” he placated him. “Just meditate or something in the meantime.”

Micah shook his head briefly, but ended up nodding. “I will, of course. I will. But I actually have to head to the secretary’s office for my hospital stuff. And then I wanted to sign my name in during that deep appraisal schedule. Are you going to do that?”

He nodded. “I doubt I’ll learn much, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about my Skills.”

“I thought the same.”

“If you need something to occupy your free time, there’s something you could help me with,” Lisa said, snacking on a carrot stick.

“There is?” Ryan frowned. “What?”

She shook her head and munched the carrot down until she could speak. “I need you healed up a little more before you can help. But it would be physical training. You’ll have time for that, right?”

Micah perked up a bit and glanced between the two of them. They wanted to train together? Technically, he remembered Ryan telling him how they had done that together in the Wolves' Den before either of them had known him. He wondered what she had in mind.

“I, uh— I guess.” Ryan shrugged and nodded as if shaking off a needless reluctance. “Yeah, sure. Anything to help.”

“Thanks.”

Micah smiled a little and suppressed a chuckle. Maybe they really were levelists. Or had been? Either way, it had given them a headstart in some respects. Other events had too, like his first and last Tower excursions. But maybe, it was just time Micah directed that effort someplace else.