Eve lay awake late into the night, her eyes flush with the azure light of her status screen. Even as the haze of wine lingered about her mind, she knew she needed sleep. One way or another, she was in for a long day tomorrow.

Still she stared, reading and rereading the information and statistics she’d long memorized.

Evelia Greene

Level 1 Messenger Girl

Human

Health: 99/100

Stamina: 43/150

Mana: 0/0

Constitution: 10

Endurance: 15

Intelligence: 11

Dexterity: 10

Strength: 8

Spirit: 0

Spirit and Mana were grayed out as always—magic remained beyond her purview. In fact, the only change her new class brought to Eve’s stats was the increase to Endurance and its corresponding Stamina. For the thousandth time that night, she brought up the class info.

Messenger Girl

Common Tier 1 Class

Exp: 0/10

The perfect starting job for a young adult with no training. What could be easier than running messages back and forth?

+5 Endurance

+1 Endurance/Level

Passive Ability - Haste

Your boss needs that message delivered ASAP. You run slightly faster.

Active Ability - Run Away

20 Stamina

The best way to survive a fight is to avoid it. Double your running speed for 7.5 seconds.

The class was… less than promising. Eve supposed having two abilities for escaping combat could prove useful for avoiding bandits, but monsters were remarkably uncommon in the human lands.

On the flip side, if her quest truly was of Legendary difficulty, running away didn’t seem like a useful option. Messenger Girl left her no avenues to actually fight anything, and thus no avenues to gain valuable experience. The class was so bad she couldn’t even level it up!

She dismissed the thought. She knew Martha had even evolved her class just by making progress on her quest, perhaps Eve could do the same. The Messenger Girl tried not to think about what progress on ‘fetching a loaf of bread’ would even look like. Maybe there was a checkpoint for reaching Fidsworth and another for returning with the bread? What if the quest reward was just the loaf itself?

Eve groaned, rolling over to slam her face into the pillow. There’s nothing I can do about it tonight; I just need to sleep.

If only it were that easy.

For hours she tossed and turned, slipping in and out of slumber as her mind ran in circles. When sleep finally did take her, she dreamt of desperately fleeing an apocalyptic monster that looked all too much like a giant loaf of sourdough.

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Eve emerged from her mother’s shop the next morning sluggish and groggy. No matter how she rubbed them, the sleep—or lack thereof—refused to leave her eyes. The journey would be ever so slightly safer if she could make it home before nightfall. Unfortunately such a strategy mandated an early departure, so on she walked.

She squinted as the light of the rising sun obscured the road to Fidsworth. It was just her luck that she’d be walking into its blinding radiance both on her morning trip east and her afternoon journey back west. Still, equipped with naught but a few copper with which to purchase the bread, Evelia Greene took the first steps on her “Legendary” quest.

She made it ten minutes before a chorus of cheers rang out behind her. Back at the village’s edge, a group of townspeople waved and clapped as one particularly tall Flame Initiate took his own first steps.

Wes did not look well. He dragged his feet along the dry dirt road, listing to the side as a hand both rubbed his temples and shielded his eyes from the bright sun. Out of pity more so than a desire for company, Eve waited as he caught up.

“G’morning, Wes.”

Startled, he tilted his hand to peek under it. “Oh, hey,” he groaned. “Evelyn, isn’t it?”

“Evelia,” she corrected him, “or just ‘Eve’.”

“Right. Eve.”

“How—um—how much did you drink last night?”

Wes shrugged. “Damned if I know. A bit of advice: don’t get hammered the night before your epic adventure.”

“Wise words, oh great hero.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Da’s still pissed about the whole thing, meanwhile half the village is bloody worshiping me. Honestly, I’m more excited to get away from them than for all this ‘adventure’ shit.”

He gestured down at the patchwork set of ragged armor he wore, “Not to mention all this. How is it every single citizen of Nowherested has an ancient family heirloom I just need to take with me? Mr. Potts even gave me a bloody sword. I’m a mage!”

Eve looked him up and down. The man was well over six feet tall and built like an ox. Even given the rusted state of his mismatched armor, he cut a fearsome figure. “You don’t look like a mage.”

“Take that up with the Stones.” He withdrew the worn blade from the loop at his belt. “You want this? It’s ugly as sin, but I’m sure it’s enchanted to all hells. Apparently Great Great Grandma Potts was quite the swords-woman.”

Eve reached out to claim the saber, but the moment her hand wrapped around the hilt it plummeted to the dirt.

You are not strong enough to wield this weapon.

She bent over to pick it up, managing to raise the hilt but leaving the tip resting on the ground. “I can barely lift it.”

“Ah well,” Wes casually grabbed the old sword and returned it to his hip. “Maybe someone in Fidsworth will take it off my hands.”

“Good idea. Odds are that thing’s enchanted to the high hells. With how rusty it is I wouldn’t be surprised if chips just explodes in your face. Unstable enchantments are dangerous, you know.”

Wes paled, wrapping a tight grip around the weapon’s hilt.

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Eve changed the subject. “So you’re heading east too?”

“I guess? It’s as good a direction as any. The Stones didn’t tell me where this ‘Blightmaw Dragon’ actually is, so I’m mostly just wandering.”

“Don’t you want to… I don’t know, get some training first? There’s a mage’s college in Pyrindel.”

Wes turned, restarting his sluggish trek. “I doubt I could afford whatever tuition they charge. Maybe if I do a few bounties first.”

Eve followed. “Sounds like a plan to me. Better to train up as much as you can before going after your dragon.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a quest like that. What’s the difficulty on it, anyway?”

“Epic.”

His dragon is easier than my bread! Eve paled.

“Terrifying, right?” Wes misread her expression.

“Yeah,” she gulped. “Terrifying.”

“So that’s my story,” Wes changed the subject. “Why are you on the road? Starting your own quest?”

“Something like that. I’ve got an errand to run in Fidsworth.”

“Oh, nice. I could use a few hours company. Just don’t go all ‘great hero’ on me again.”

Eve laughed, “I can do that.”

The conversation faded as the two groggy—and somewhat hungover—adventurers journeyed on. Truth be told, Eve was grateful for the escort. She didn’t know Wes particularly well, but the man seemed nice enough, and having someone with a combat class could prove essential should things go as sideways as she feared.

The first two hours passed in relative peace. Wild grass on either side of the road swayed in the breeze. The rising sun burned away the last vestiges of the morning chill as colorful birds flew overhead.

Angry as she was at the Questing Stones and her situation in general, Eve couldn’t help but allow some of her frustration to slip away in the face of a beautiful summer day. It was downright pleasant.

Just about halfway to Fidsworth, the growling started.

Eve froze. Wes stopped in his tracks, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. All of a sudden Eve wished she were strong enough to wield the thing.

The grass shifted.

“There’s something out there.”

Wes glared at her before whispering back, “I can bloody tell.”

Eve strained her ears to listen, but the growls seemed to come from every direction at once.

“Maybe we can scare them off,” Wes said. “I don’t think they want to eat us. Wolves only growl when they’re trying to warn off other predators.”

“Since when are you an expert on wolves?”

Wes shrugged. “If I can’t chase them away, you should run. I’ll have an easier time fighting if I don’t have to worry about you.”

Eve nodded, already prepared to activate her Run Away skill. Gods knew if she could outpace a wolf, but alternatives were scarce.

The first of the gray canines stepped onto the road, its lips pulled back in a snarl and its fur standing on end. Another appeared on its left. And another.

The growling behind them grew louder. Eve swung her head about to see two more of the mangy, skeletally thin wolves making their slow approach.

Wes drew his sword. “Eve? Now might be a good time to run.”

Eve ran.

Adrenaline coursed through her with every beat of her pounding heart. She watched as her stamina ticked down, depleting ever faster with the activation of her skill. She breathed. The grasslands flew past. A yelp rang out behind her. She didn’t stop.

Eve made it nearly three hundred feet before the timer on her skill ran out. In half a second her legs went from propelling her forward at an incredible speed to being completely unable to keep up with the velocity of the rest of her.

She tumbled.

Eve landed hard. Her hands caught her fall as they could, but such was her momentum that she flipped right over them just as they skidded along the dirt road. Her face took the rest of the blow.

For a second she lay there, wincing in the stinging pain of her scraped up hands and bloody cheek, until adrenaline forced her to her feet. The cloud of dust she’d kicked up still hung in the air, sending her into a fit of full-body coughs. She pushed through it.

Heart still racing, Eve looked back.

Already two wolves lay still in the dirt, but the remaining three still circled the muscular Initiate. Wes clutched the rusty sword with his left hand, his other engulfed in flame. Frantically he waved the fiery appendage at the hungry predators, but the spell did little more than keep them at bay.

Eve wondered how much mana he had left.

Shit, she sighed. I have to do something.

The flames flickered.

I have to do something now. Against every bit of her better judgement, Eve once again took off into a run—this time towards the beasts. Even if her active ability were off its cooldown, she wouldn’t have used it. Unpleasant as falling on her face had been, she imagined it would be far worse to do so at a wolf’s feet.

The distance closed.

A wolf pounced, getting a faceful of fire magic for its efforts.

Eve’s feet pounded against the dirt road, keeping time with her racing heart.

A second wolf leapt at Wes’s sword arm, its teeth sinking deep into his decaying leather vambrace. The hand-me-down saber fell to the ground.

Wes pivoted, swinging his Burning Hand at the beast still clinging to his arm. The stench of burning fur filled the air as the wolf yelped, writhed, and eventually went limp, falling to the earth.

Two wolves remained.

At once they lunged, one jerking away as Wes’s flames swung at it while the other reached his leg unimpeded. He let out a cry as a pair of jaws wrapped around his calf. The wolf tugged, and Wes collapsed.

He kicked and screamed and swung his fiery hand about haphazardly, but the wolves had him now.

Eve charged on.

She had no weapons, no offensive skills, no plan. Her only advantage came in Wes’s prone form granting just the distraction she needed. The adrenaline took over.

Eve reached the closest wolf, putting every ounce of her momentum behind a single kick. A sharp pain echoed up her leg as her foot collided with the beast’s side. A sharp crack of breaking ribs joined a pitiful yelp as the creature backed off.

Eve surged forward, stepping past the other wolf which still clung to Wes’s leg. She stooped over, wrapping a desperate hand around the fallen sword. Eve pulled.

The Messenger Girl dragged more than carried the weapon to the remaining beast. The predator paid her little heed, distracted as it was trying to chew through Wes’s decrepit leather. Her muscles ached. Her lungs burned. Her scraped-up palms raged against her as she clutched the hilt with both hands.

Mustering every last drop of her measly 8 Strength, Eve swung.

The old blade struck true, if not deep. Its rusted edge pierced barely an inch into the back of the predators neck. The beast cried out.

Her blow wasn’t lethal, but it was enough.

The wolf released its grip, instinctively leaping back to escape this new attacker. Wes sat upright.

The man lunged, reclaiming the sword from Eve’s bleeding hands as he took his swing.

He got it in the throat.

The beast collapsed, taking Wes’s sword with it. Eve let out a breath, the sheer euphoria of simple survival already flooding her.

Another growl.

“Shit,” Wes swore.

Eve turned, finding the wolf she’d kicked had come limping back. Still it snarled. “Come to die with the rest of your pack?” she taunted the thing.

“Eve?” Wes kneeled in the dirt, his injured leg trailing off behind him. “I’m out of mana.”

“Shit.”

“Maybe you should grab the sword.”

She halted. “Right. The sword.”

Eve reached down, planting a foot on the fallen wolf in her attempt to yank the weapons free. The surviving beast limped closer.

The saber’s tip left a line in the dirt as she dragged it back to Wes.

The wolf barked, jumping forward in a ragged pounce. It fell several feet short. Still it approached.

Eve spun around.

The wolf leapt again.

The thing landed hard on the edge of the blade, forcing its point yet deeper into the earth just as its edge pierced the creature’s hide.

With nary a whimper, the final wolf fell to the hard ground, dead as its pack-mates.

“Holy shit.”

Wes collapsed, falling back to lay on the roadside. “Some adventurers we are, huh? Three hours in and we’re already an inch from death.”

Eve kneeled at the injured man’s side, letting out a laugh as she did. It was a sharp, full-body thing, echoing through the plains with the kind of distraught mirth shared only by the insane and the remarkably lucky. Wes mirrored her grin.

“Are you ok?” Eve asked. “Can you walk?” A number of messages flashed in the corner of her vision, but she dismissed them for now. Wes was more important.

“I’ll be fine. And no, I can’t walk.” He held up his wounded arm, pointing to a bronze ring around his little finger. “Ring of Regeneration. Mrs. Lester gave it to me. It’s slow, but I should be on my feet in a few hours.”

Eve nodded, “Okay—um—good.” She swung her legs around, rearranging herself to sit beside the man. “I guess we’re waiting here for a bit.”

Wes looked up at her, “What about your errand? Didn’t you need to do something in Fidsworth?”

Eve shrugged, settling in to get comfortable for the coming wait. She had messages to read. “It’s alright,” she promised. “It’s just a loaf of bread. Fidsworth can wait.”