“What were you thinking?” Rowena hissed from the seat next to Kieran bed that had become all too familiar in the last several days.

“I wasn’t, really,” Kieran replied. He was sitting cross legged on his bed in that infuriatingly casual way he had.

“Clearly,” she sniffed, then reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking reassurance from his firm, stocky build. He was there. He was awake.

After they’d exchanged a wordless, fierce hug, Rowena had launched what could probably be considered a verbal assault on her irresponsible friend. Fortunately, Kieran took it patiently and without concern.

“Ro,” he finally said, holding up a hand to stem the tide of choice words Rowena was beginning to utter. “Ro– I’m okay. I’m okay. Better than okay, in fact… I feel amazing.”

Rowena stared at him in disbelief and then shook her head. “The eyes are weird and everyone is going to stare. But I suppose they look nice against your skintone,” she begrudgingly admitted.

“The ladies won’t be able to resist me now,” Kieran grinned cheekily. He began to absentmindedly rub his left wrist covered in his new Class and Subclass Sigils. They were faint and simple, as all Level 1 individuals were at first. As he gained new Abilities and Levels, the Sigils would complicate automatically, becoming more intricate and darker as time went on.

Rowena rolled her eyes and sat back. “Kieran… what did you do? I thought you were going to choose an Enchanter subclass, but… what the hell is a Manipulator? It sounds more… ROGUE than MAGIC USER. I couldn't be friends with a ROGUE,” she shuddered.

Kieran rolled his eyes right back at her. “I’m not an idiot,” he said. “I like people too much to become a ROGUE. But–” he hesitated, and then uncurled his legs and stood up.

Walking over to the wardrobe, he pulled open the doors. Masses of clothing– gods, but Kieran had as many clothes as Calla, Rowena thought, then winced at the memory of her angry sister– were in a jumbled mess in the thing, and he dug through the lot to pull out a small lockbox, which he opened with a small key attached to it by a piece of twine.

“Can’t be much worth keeping safe in there if you keep the key attached to it,” Rowena said scornfully, but leaned forward with curiosity.

Kieran pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Rowena, who took it skeptically. “Did you take this from Martha’s?” she asked.

Kieran nodded, eyes free of any hint of remorse.

“Maybe you should have been a ROGUE,” she grumbled, but looked at the parchment piece anyway.

It was very old and delicate, but Rowena recognized it as part of a copy of Melfan’s Compendium Classes & Subclasses, though there was something strange about the print that she couldn’t place… ah! It was a handwritten page, that was it, not magically copied by Scribes or Librarians like most of the books and pamphlets at Martha’s.

MAGIC USER – Manipulator

Little is known about this Subclass, since the last known Manipulator was Herald the Sly, the first advisor to the Slowed Down King. Existing in the overlap between ROGUE and MAGIC USER, though certainly more in the latter camp, Manipulators can affect events within their vicinity, including feelings and actions. Kaldor the Scribe, a contemporary of Herald and the Slowed Down King, even ascribed an Ability to manipulate the energy of magic itself in its many applications, though I wouldn’t hesitate to re-designate Kaldor as ‘the Over-Enthusiastic.’ What manipulating magic means, none can say– yet Manipulators are clearly one of, if not the most powerful Subclass options, should one have a desire for power and deceit. As remarked earlier, there have been no registered Manipulators in the intervening centuries between Herald’s age of tumult and your humble servant’s prosperous time. Indeed, given the peace and stability that have reigned, there should be no need for such individuals anymore.

A drawing of the Manipulator subclass Sigil was the only other thing on the page.

Rowena looked up at Kieran sharply. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“What?” he asked incredulously. “Didn’t you read it? The most powerful MAGIC USER Subclass…”

“Um, yes. This sounds like a horrible Subclass! How is this going to help your mother and the tannery?” Rowena threw her hands in the air and then held them stick straight at her sides, crumpling the paper in her clenched fist.

Kieran swallowed and avoided eye contact. “Ro— I can’t— I didn’t know how to tell you–”

A warm feeling washed over Rowena and she began to relax as though sinking into a warm, scented bubble bath. What did it matter that her friend had abandoned all of this duties and principles? “All that matters is that you’re okay, Kieran.”

Suddenly, she caught a panicked look in Kieran’s still unnervingly orange eyes. “Oh no, Ro, I–”

A fierce anger bubbled up in Rowena’s stomach and her mind wrenched. “Did you just use an Ability on me?”

“I didn’t mean to, Ro, I swear,” Kieran babbled anxiously, reaching towards his friend. “I just thought about calming you down, and the words ‘Influence Individual’ just rose up in my head, and I really didn’t mean to do anything—”

“That’s even worse!” Rowena stumbled backwards towards the door.

“Ouch!” Kieran exclaimed, and looked down at his wrist.

A tiny dark tendril curled out from the Manipulator Sigil, and Kieran whispered absentmindedly, “I can hear the Ability’s… all about it… the pathways…” He sounded awed.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Kieran?!” Kella’s voice rang out from downstairs full of the fear of the last several days as well as burgeoning hope.

“Mother!” Kieran responded, snapping out of his reverie as Kella ran up the stairs.

She pushed Rowena out of the way in her haste to get to her son, whom she drew up in an all-encompassing embrace. “Oh, Kieran! My son, my son!” she sobbed.

After a few moments, she turned slightly to face Rowena. “I’m sorry,” she said with a laugh, wiping tears of joy from her face.

“No– no. You’re fine, Kella,” Rowena muttered. “I was just leaving.”

“You don’t have to go!” Kella’s almond-shaped eyes glowed with happiness. “Please, stay for dinner. Stay, and we’ll celebrate!”

“Please stay,” Kieran said imploringly, with an embarrassed look on his dark, freckled face.

“Kieran! My gods– what happened to your eyes?” Kella exclaimed as she noticed the change in her son for the first time.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to my sister and my father. And you should spend some time together. He probably shouldn’t even be up this long,” Rowena said and hastily backed up into the hallway.

“Of course,” Kella said, her mouth pursing in concern as she turned her attention back to Kieran.

Rowena took that opportunity to leave their house as quickly as possible.

As she walked home, she couldn’t help but feel as though another piece of her world had been taken from her. She’d gotten Kieran back, but at what cost? What was the meaning of his strange, ethereal eyes? And his Subclass! How could he? What would he do with such Abilities? What Abilities did a Manipulator even have? She turned the word around in her head distastefully.

He had used an Ability on her non-consensually, which was a criminal act in the Kingdom, though it could be hard to prove. Not that she’d charge Kieran with anything; she was more worried about the fact that it seemed like he’d used it without intending to. She’d never even heard of someone being able to use Abilities at all on their first day with their Class and Subclass. Just what had the Heartstone done?

She walked into the shop with an even heavier heart than she’d had when she left earlier that day, and winced when she heard Calla’s strained voice coming from the storeroom. She must have convinced their father to let her inside.

“You’re useless!” She was screaming at their father in the back room. “Look at him. Look at your son. He deserved to be buried sooner, not now when he looks like… like a freak!”

Her father gave a low reply that Rowena couldn’t make out. She paused at the countertop, tracing a meaningless design in the dusty surface with her finger. Calla was right– they needed to move on. Bury Tommie, clean the shop, reopen, keep going… just like when mother had died.

“I don’t care! Why don’t you do something useful with your class for once, like go find the man who killed your son. Your son! My brother!”

Again, a low and broken response accompanied by a wretched sob.

The door to the back storeroom opened and slammed shut. Calla stormed out with the wrath of a thousand furies.

“Calla, I know it’s hard,” Rowena started, holding her hands out toward her sister imploringly, letting go of her anger and hurt from their argument in the town hall. “We’ll get through this. I–”

“Don’t you start,” Calla snarled, eyes blazing as she pushed her way past Rowena towards the stairs. “You coward.”

“What?” Rowena said in surprise, shaken by the accusation. “What are you talking about?”

Calla spun around angrily. “You just stood there in that damn meeting. Letting them tell you what to do. Letting them disregard your report of the stranger, who with every passing day is getting further and further from Tunehlan. If it were me–”

“What?” Rowena snapped. “If it were you, what? What can you possibly do? What can I?”

“You can go get your damn Class and go after him,” Calla said evenly, pointing a stern and angry finger at her sister. “If I were of age–”

Rowena blinked and stood in shock. She didn’t know what to say… that was not what she’d expected to come out of Calla’s mouth. “What can a Merchant do about something like this?”

Calla rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Where is it written that you have to be a Merchant?” she demanded.

“I–” Rowena was still at a loss for words.

“Ugh,” Calla whirled back around and stomped up the stairs, tears beginning to stream down her face. “You’re both so useless,” she muttered as she slammed the door to her room.

Rowena stood perfectly still, letting her sister’s words wash over her as she looked over every inch of the shop where she’d spent her entire life– first with her mother, and then by herself as she ran the business that kept their family fed, clothed, and sheltered. The crooked shelves, the locked boxes of rare goods, the precious glass display cases she cleaned daily with great care. She snapped at Tommie nearly daily about disturbing things in the shop as he ran around with wild abandon, playing Hero. It had been frustrating and annoying, at the time.

Now, she would smash every glass panel in the shop to have him back.

But it was her destiny to be a Merchant, wasn’t it? It was a legacy, a calling. She was good at working in the shop. And anyway, she couldn’t use the Heartstone as it was. The Council had decided, and it would surely be guarded. Plus, it wasn’t safe! Sure, Kieran had finally awoken, but it would be weeks or months until they knew what had happened to him when he touched the Heartstone.

And yet… he had awoken. And he had his Sigils, and apparently Abilities, powerful ones.

Her heart quivered in her chest as she considered her options. She looked at the two shut doors facing her– the one behind which her sad, lost father sat cradling his dead son, and the one behind which her brilliant, bold sister lay crying on her bed.

Rowena wished for the first time that Calla had been the older sister, that Calla had been the one who turned sixteen last week. I’m sixteen, she realized suddenly, remembering for the first time that it had been her birthday the day after the incident. She’d been unconscious for most of it.

Happy Birthday to me, I guess, she thought bitterly. But that meant– that meant that tonight was the last night she could do anything about what Calla said. The Heartstone was only activated for Selection for a week.

Rowena hated making decisions quickly, but there was nothing for it. The thoughts whirling around her head made her want to run and hide under her bed.

She had to go find Kieran, and convince him to help her break through the guards to get to the Heartstone, and choose a Class and Subclass that would help her bring Tommie’s murderer to justice.

She took a last wistful look around the shop before she set her jaw, turned abruptly, and left.

She knew what she had to do.