The morning steamed with the rising sun, wisps of fog blowing over the hills around Vane Gloria. Midaan and the rest of his group of mercs relaxed on the wall as they waited for the morning cart to pull up. There were two other groups waiting nearby, a group of five and a group of six, each departing on their own patrol contracts. Piera had struck up conversation with members of the other groups, finding that one of them would be getting off about halfway through the ride, their first job on the patrol being relatively nearby.

Midaan’s group would have to take the cart all the way to Vitrea where the cart stopped to turn around, and they would grab another cart that left from there to the next town. They would bunk up at an inn there, and tomorrow morning, would depart to the first job on their patrol.

Geon caught sight of Glory, still groggy, walking up the hill to Vane/Gloria’s with her day bag in hand. She waved lethargically to the group gathered around the wall as she went up the steps and unlocked the front door, paying no mind to who was waiting for the cart. As she pushed the door open she felt the familiar sting of mana being drawn, the tax for entering the building – all the mercs helped to keep the amenities running smoothly.

She threw her stuff onto the chair behind her booth, not willing to open the service just yet. Then she went into the back room and flopped into the sofa chair, tempted to drift back off to sleep. And for a minute, she did.

At a knock at her door, however, she jumped back up, alert. Once she calmed down, she got up and opened her back room door, revealing one of the elite Scouts that had arrived yesterday. He was holding a thin sheaf of papers towards her, and with a curious eye, she took them, leafed through them quickly, her eyes widening as she did so.

“I thought you all weren’t getting started on the Scouting until today!”

The Scout shrugged. “It was a long day. Some of the guys got antsy and decided to get a move on scouting the local area. Good thing, too. There’s some... uncharacteristic groupings of monsters appearing nearby.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing that.” Bog witches, packs of infernal dogs, and imp camps in worrying numbers – all sat in those few prospective jobs.

“Anyway,” the Scout continued, “I only stopped by to drop those off. Captain wanted me to let you know that we’ve graded these based on Official parameters. He said you’d probably want to take a second look at these jobs and put your own spin on them.”

Glory nodded, thankful that they hadn’t just started pinning them to the board inside, which some Scout teams would do. It was a habit they picked up from more central guilds that weren’t quite as dangerous as Glory’s, where what a job said on the paper was all you could expect to be fighting if you took the job.

Glory took the papers and brought them over to her desk to pour over. She separated the monsters from the imps, then brought the stack of the former up to the board to post them. She still needed some Rank 1 contracts after all. She started to plot out the best patrol routes for the imp camp jobs that the Scout had brought her and fell into the routine of paperwork.

Mercenaries started to drift inside, and Glory spent a few minutes doling out the Rank 1 contracts she’d posted minutes ago, a couple of them heading back outside to join the other mercs waiting at the wall for the northbound cart.

Corin, the overnight cleaner, was milling about the lobby among the other patrons, looking slightly lost as he eavesdropped by the quest boards. Glory noticed him out of the corner of her eye, and called him over.

He walked up to Glory, looking a little caught out.

“What’s on your mind? You look distracted.”

His lips twisted in thought, and he glanced back to the group that was still arguing with each other by the quest board. He seemed to focus on one person in particular, the Healer in the group.

“Are you thinking about becoming a Healer?” Glory asked him.

Corin winced, as though he’d touched a hot stove. “Oh, I- I don’t think I have it in me to do that job.” He looked back at the robed man among the group longingly though. “It would feel nice to be that important in the group, but I don’t think I could deal with losing people.”

Glory smirked. “I know what you mean. It’s a job that isn’t for everyone.” Glory thought for a moment, then continued. “That doesn’t mean it’s not for you, though. Healers don't start out thinking, ‘You know, if I lost a patient, I'd be totally unaffected!’”

Corin laughed, nodding at the truth in that. “I doubt they would put it like that.”

“Of course not. But the ones that we like, the ones that are good Healers, they lose people. And it isn’t by being callous that they move on. They learn, and heal the next person a little better, a little faster.” Glory sat back and looked at him. “All that’s to say, if you think being a Healer is a cool idea, I think you should go for it. Gods know that the guild could always use more Healers.”

Corin smiled sheepishly. “Honestly, I don’t even know where to start down that path. Isn’t Healing a really expensive rune?”

Glory shrugged. “It can be. The families that control that rune charge a hefty price for it, but a lot of places, including the central cities, will force them to sell the rune on a generous loan, so you can get the rune, and pay them back over time. With the negotiating power you have as a Healer, you can usually pay the loan back early.”

Corin smiled, but then redirected. “Uh, what about Shields?”

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Glory chewed her lip. “That’s a little tougher. Shields don’t have the kind of public funding as Healing does, so you really would have to go through a family…” Shields were one area she wasn’t as sure about. Maybe she could talk to Oren at some…

“Oh hey, if you’re interested in Shields, run outside real quick. The morning cart should be here soon, but maybe you can squeeze Oren for some information before it gets here. He’s the older guy with Geon and them.”

Corin’s eyes went wide, and he jogged away from the booth to the front door.

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Midaan sighed as they waited for the cart to pull up. It wasn’t usually late, though it happened sometimes, and today it was late. About fifteen minutes late.

Deya paced around the road in front of the guild, turning her head as the door to the guild opened from the inside. A young man ran out, trotted down the steps to the group gathered there.

“Hey, is there an… Oren, here?” the boy asked.

Oren looked up at the boy, eyes curious. “Yeah, what’s up?”

The boy sat down next to him, face anxious. “Hi, my name is Corin, I work at the guild overnights.” He got the introduction out quick. “I want to take Shield runes, but I don’t know how to go about it. Where can I get them? I know they aren’t one of the common runes you can get at any rune artist.”

Oren smiled grimly. Shield, huh? “It’s not one of the common ones, no. You’d have to get in good with a family in order to get them.”

“Well, how did you get them? Maybe I could try that?”

Oren laughed aloud. “I guess you could try. I got lucky. I made friends with the son of a noble family when I was young, and he was able to speak for me in trying to get the Shield rune when I was older.”

Corin grimaced and grumbled, “So, know any lonely nobles that live around here?”

Oren clapped him on the back. “I really don’t! Nobles have too many people trying to meet them to curry favor already. But when I get back, I can talk to a guy I know. Maybe he’d be willing to take someone under their wing, or give you a loan for the cost of the rune, like they might with Healers.”

Corin looked up at him with admiration. “You’d do that for me? You don’t even know me!”

Oren shrugged. “We need more Shield mages. Can’t have all the protective people go Healer. It’d be so boring.”

The parties looked up as the morning cart appeared around the bend down the road. They started gathering all their things together, and Oren looked over at the excited Corin, though he looked disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to talk to Oren about the power for longer.

“Listen, kid. We’ll be gone a couple of weeks, most likely. When we get back though, I’ll try to sit down with you for a bit and talk about the Shield rune. I know the nobles aren’t going to be very forthcoming with information about them, so every bit you can get from me is worth it. Just hang in there until I get back, ok? Don’t sign your soul to Larami Vane in hopes he’ll help you out.”

Corin smiled and nodded back to Oren as the cart rolled up. He stepped back as the groups piled in as efficiently as they could, arms laden with large travel bags. Once they were all piled in, the cart started away, and Oren waved one more time to Corin standing on the steps to Vane/Gloria’s.

Corin couldn't contain himself. He dashed back into the guild beaming and let Glory know about what Oren said, spilling the details in a rush. She just smiled back at him, letting the sounds of his enthusiasm wash over her.

“Thank you, Glory!” he said one last time, before heading home for the day.

She waved after him, then settled back in her chair, thinking over his progress. Villara got to be on this side of someone's self-discovery a bit more often than she did. She typically served as the test as to whether her Rank 1 mercenaries could go on a tougher quest, or advance in Rank – things that she only let happen for those who had already sufficiently developed.

It was wonderful to see someone finding their calling – it spurred something within her, too. A yearning for place that hadn't settled in her yet. She thought for a time, her eyes drifting down to her own right hand. Her blank hand. There was no rune there.

Twenty-four years old, and she was still a Telekinetic Lancer.

She had thought long about what sort of Weapon rune she wanted to take. It was the sort of thing her mother tried to impress upon her. They lived near the Demon Lands, attacks or invasions could happen at any time – she needed to have a weapon, something she could fight with if it ever came to a battle. Glory considered it a lucky thing that there hadn't been any attacks on the town itself during her lifetime, but the possibility was always there.

And here, five years after taking over the guild officially, she still had no runes other than her Telekinesis.

Glory stood with a sigh, and walked over to Villara's wall of weapons. She hadn't arrived yet to berate her for standing there, looking over the weapons, picturing each of them in her hands. That staff that could raise a massive wave behind her. That sword that she could whip out in a second to strike a faraway enemy, or that one to pierce through enemy armor. That wand could conduct Light in intricate patterns. Those gloves were designed for punching at range with Telekinesis.

She smiled at the idea of her with her fists up, blue runes glowing, ready to punch someone's lights out from twenty feet away without approaching. They all had their appeal. If you could choose to make yourself into something more, but with no second chances, what direction would you take it?

Why was she still stuck at the crossroads here?

For a time, she had thought that maybe seeing all the people that come through the guild, with all their myriad runes and rune combinations, might inspire some direction in her. But it hadn't happened. She must have listened to Villara talk about finding a role a thousand times, but nothing clicked in the way that sniping did for Deya, or Shielding had for Oren or Corin.

She'd thought hard about Healing. Having a Healer in-house could be a boon. But over the years that she'd run the guild, she could count with one hand the number of times a merc had made it all the way back there, injured on the job and still in need of healing. Most that died, died in the field, far from any help she could give.

She'd thought about taking an elemental power, the kinds of weapon runes that made up the bulk of her mercs ability to deal damage and kill monsters. That's the main component of defending yourself from an invader – the ability to kill it, or them, quickly. But none of those really appealed to her either. If her guild was open at all, she usually had a rash of mercs inside that would be willing – and also, legally required – to help in the defense of the town and the guild, most using those exact powers.

Glory didn't know why, but she felt the urge to take something that wasn't used as often; to fill a niche that hardly anyone saw the need for, but could swing battles in her guild's favor. A new role. A new rune? She exhaled a quiet laugh – not everyone could get as lucky as Bes, to discover a new rune in her day-to-day life.

She wanted to walk a new path anyway.

The world wouldn't wait for her to find it.

Because now her excuse – the one she always used to put this decision off – was wrong. She didn't have all the time in the world to choose. The end of the civil war alone made that untenable, never mind the rise in imps, or the return of the spectres with their new baiting threats. It was long past time to pick a power and live with it.

She crossed back over to her own booth and sat down, pulling a book out of a drawer and cracking it open. It was a listing of known runes, with a description of what each rune was known to do on each of the body's mana nodes, and some information on how to acquire each one. It was a few years old now, but still recent enough to get a decent idea of what was out there. If a rune wasn't in the book, she probably wasn't in the circles that would be able to get it, anyway. As it was, half of these entries would be out of her reach.

Glory had browsed these pages a hundred times in search of a path she wanted to follow. She'd seen herself in every role she could imagine. Today, she looked over one chapter in particular.

It was titled: Recovery.