Vaskir was laying on his mattress, softly snoring, as Covens burst into the tent with Cradow draped over her shoulder. Vaskir awoke in a panic and watched as Covens placed Cradow down in the middle of the tent, close to his feet, then dashed out. Still bleary from waking up, he lightly kicked Cradow in the side, almost to make sure he was really there, then groaned and sat up, staring into middle-space the way some people do when exiting a deep sleep.

Covens dashed back into the tent, this time with Pravin over her shoulder. Vaskir watched silently as she dropped Pravin beside Cradow and then fell to her knees between the two men. She placed one hand on each of the men’s chests and seemed to fall into a meditative trance. After a minute the tent flap rustled and Monver entered.

‘An Ascendant losing a duel to a mortal… by the gods, what is the world coming to?’ Monver said and came to stand over Covens and the men. He shook his head, disappointed with whatever he was seeing. He looked over to Vaskir, who looked back. Monver grinned and ambled over to his side, crouching down. ‘And the big hero takes a sword strike to the face,’ he pressed his thumb into Vaskir’s forehead, right above the base of his nose. ‘Apparently half your head is missing? If I take off those bandages will your brain pour out like week-old soup?’

‘Leave the man be, Monver.’ Covens said, eyes still closed. She had removed her hand from Pravin’s chest and was pressing down onto Cradow’s with both. Monver laughed and didn’t take his eyes off of Vaskir. Vaskir, for his part, just tried to look as injured and vacant-eyed as he knew best.

‘You know,’ Monver said, leaning in so only Vaskir could hear. ‘I’ve seen you around. Doing jobs. Working for me. So, let me let you in on a little secret. My father always warned me about men like you, lowborns like you—mortals—like you. You always have such lofty ideals, always trying to scramble your way out of the dirt. You keep wanting more after you’ve taken one bite of the good life. You see us, the mighty Ascended, and you think: “I can be so much more than them.” My dad taught me to never let bottom-feeder scum rise to the top, because, when they do, they cast down the ones who belong there.’ He leaned in even closer, Vaskir could feel his breath on his ear. ‘So you know what I’ve been doing?’ he huskily whispered. ‘I’ve been killing all the mortals who I deem worthy. I crush any talent before it can bloom, my little… diamond in the rough.’ He leaned back. ‘Once this is all over, and my clan has bought the manual from the Consortium, I’ll find you, wherever you are, whether in a hospital or in your home, and I’ll use whatever power the manual has bestowed upon me to end your little life. And you’ll die, knowing that you were instrumental in helping me attain the thing that inevitably killed you.’ Vaskir stared ahead of him, not wanting to look at Monver in fear of giving himself away. Monver patted his shoulder. ‘Good talk,’ he said, rising from his crouch.

‘What did you say to him?’ Covens asked. She was breathing deeply and sweating, whatever she had done for Cradow and Pravin had taken a lot out of her.

‘Just threatening his life,’ Monver answered, walking to the tent flap. Covens, even in her exhausted state, looked oddly at Monver.

‘Wait,’ she said as he pulled open the tent flap. He stopped and looked at her. ‘All three of them are in bad condition. Cradow got his aura fried, and Pravin might be just as brain dead as Vaskir after being pushed into that barrier. They need treatment, real treatment.’ Monver smiled.

‘That’s cute,’ he said. ‘You care about your new friends. But, what does sending them away get me?’ Covens had been thinking about an answer to this question, and after asking Vaskir they had come up with something.

‘It’ll give you a better standing with the Consortium,’ she said. ‘You know how much they hate losing Ascendants. And, after both these men have their manuals, they’ll be Ascendants in all but name until they register. Losing three Ascendants to negligence looks a lot worse than losing them to battle.’ Monver grunted, thinking.

‘True, although I doubt it would be half as bad as you say,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I don’t think th—’

‘And do you really want me around when the Consortium officials meet you at Port Royal?’ she added quickly, thinking on her feet.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, smiling. He seemed to be looking forward to whatever Covens had to say.

‘It’ll be a lot easier to ask for forgiveness about adding me to the expedition if the Consortium finds out a few days into their investigation. By then I’ll be long gone, and the culprit of their worries, not being in immediate sight, means you’ll catch less hell.’ Covens said and Monver laughed.

‘Or, they’ll become enraged at a loose end being left untied. You don’t know the Consortium half as well as you think, girly.’ Monver said.

‘Normally you’d be right,’ she said. ‘But not this time.’ Monver cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘They’ll be so busy drooling over the manual that they might let my presence slide entirely. I mean, come on, you’ll be handing them a 3rd class artefact… do you really want to explain my presence to them immediately after, or a few days later?’ Monver’s smile drained from his expression until he was staring at Covens like she was a lifeless doll that just started talking. He clicked his tongue.

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‘Good, very good,’ he said, wagging a finger at her. ‘Okay, take your injured. I doubt a single day will make much difference for them.’ He looked at Vaskir, and a small smile formed. ‘And, if worse comes to worst,’ he pointed a finger at Vaskir. ‘You make sure that one lives; he and I have business.’ He left the tent. Covens let out the breath she was holding and looked over to Vaskir who was staring at the tent flap.

‘What did he say to you?’ Covens asked, reading the heavy expression on his face.

‘That he’ll track me down and kill me 'cause he’s got daddy issues,’ Vaskir answered. Covens let out a small laugh. Vaskir looked at her and the heavy atmosphere that was forming dissipated. He laughed a little too, then looked at the two prone forms beside Covens. He shook his head, impressed. ‘Damn, they really look knocked out. Get up!’ he said, lightly kicking Cradow in the ribs. Covens grimaced.

‘Yeah, so, not all good news, I’m afraid,’ she said and Vaskir looked at his knocked-out friends again.

‘Fuck,’ he said, ‘they’re going to be heavy, aren’t they?’

Two hours later, Covens had placed the three men on sleds and pulled them out of camp. Once she was satisfied that they were far enough away, and that nobody was following, she dropped the rope she was using to pull and looked around for a place to sit. Vaskir opened his eyes once the movement stopped and looked around. Pravin and Cradow still weren’t awake. He grunted in annoyance, even with him helping, dragging them would slow the team down. He got up and went over to where Covens was sitting. She had given up on finding a non-muddy place and sat down in the middle of the path they were taking towards Port Royal. Vaskir sat down beside her.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘my mum liked to say that “life is like a long muddy road, people who walk it in dance shoes are idiots.”’ Covens laughed.

‘Smart woman,’ she said. Vaskir nodded.

‘You know, how about you sit on my sled. I’ll pull for a while,’ Vaskir said. He had noticed that Covens was pale and out of breath from whatever she did to help Pravin and Cradow. She looked over and shook her head.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I can keep going.’ Vaskir nodded but wasn’t willing to relent. He settled on stalling so that she spent more time resting.

‘You know,’ he said, taking out one of the 12th-grade manuals Covens was handed before leaving the camp. ‘I have no idea how to use this. Mind if you clear some stuff up?’ Apparently, this was the right course of action because Covens perked up.

‘Yeah. Hell yeah, even. Seeing a young Ascendant’s stats is like peeking into their soul. There isn’t a single Ascendant on this planet that would say no to that question,’ she said, sliding over to him through the mud. The line about peeking into his soul worried Vaskir a little but it was too late to back out. She flipped open the manual he was holding to its first page. She drew a knife from her hip and held it out, handle first, to Vaskir. ‘Prick your thumb and smear it onto the middle of that page,’ she said, looking excited. Vaskir took the knife gingerly and then pricked his thumb. A single drop of blood beaded up and he pressed it down into the middle of the page. After a second, writing began to appear.

Str: 2

Dex: 2

Con: 2

Int: 5

Wis: 4

Cha: 4

Covens let out a low whistle.

‘Damn,’ she said. ‘This manual is a piece of shit but that’s already impressive.’ Vaskir knew his mathematics, so seeing single digits, especially such low ones, filled him with dread. Covens on the other hand was shaking her head in disbelief. She reached out and rapped her knuckles on his head. ‘Guess you're just really good at hiding all those brains, huh?’ Vaskir was confused, he could guess what the three-letter words represented but didn’t want to take any chances.

‘What do the words mean?’ he asked. Covens held up her hands, extending her fingers as she rattled them off.

‘Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma,’ she said. Vaskir laughed.

‘I have 4 charisma?’ he chortled, shaking his head. ‘Does that mean women see me as some kind of Poxbeast?’ he asked, laughing. Covens shook her head.

‘Vaskir,’ she said, suddenly serious. ‘5 is the human limit.’ He stopped laughing.

‘Oh,’ he said.

‘Yeah, oh,’ she intoned. Vaskir frowned.

‘I don’t feel particularly smart,’ he said.

‘That’s because being intelligent is most likely your normal,’ she said. Vaskir shook his head in disagreement.

‘I’ve heard professors and alchemists talk. I could barely understand a word,’ he said.

‘That’s because you're not trained in whatever it is that they were discussing. High intelligence is one of the most sought-after stats in all of Inglasia. It just means that you can absorb information far faster than someone with a 2, or a 3.’

‘Not a 4?’ Vaskir asked.

‘That’s actually a good question,’ she said. ‘And one with a complicated answer that I can’t be bothered to explain. Just know that the human average is 1 and that you should be very happy.’ A million questions sprang up in Vaskir’s mind. Covens put up her hand to stop him. ‘I know that look,’ she said. ‘I had it on my face years ago when my dad explained all of this to me. Here,’ she said, closing the book and handing him her knife. ‘Cut all of those bandages off and go brood on this for a little while. Once you’ve got your head straight come back and I’ll help you with your next step. Once you get past that, congratulations will be in order. You’ll officially be a foundational Ascendant like me and Cradow.’ Vaskir stood up, nodding, and started making his way to the tree line so he could take the bandages off in privacy. ‘Oh, and Vaskir,’ Covens said. He turned around to look at her. ‘Here’s some food for thought,’ she said, grinning. ‘Half of your current stats will get added onto themselves when you break through into Foundational.’ Vaskir’s jaw dropped. ‘Yeah, now go and think about how smart you're going to be once you’ve broken through.’ She shooed him away, laughing as he scampered off into the jungle like an excited puppy…an excited puppy holding a knife.