Life after loss continued, as it always did and always would.

I wrestled with my options about what to do with Treepo’s remains. In the end, I decided to carry him out to an empty workshop, and carefully removed his crystal.

Though I was not sure what would happen to a beast’s magic crystal if the body was cremated, and it could possibly burn up and release the contained magic into the atmosphere, I knew that if I buried him, scavengers may try to dig him up and get at the crystal.

I considered using the crystal in that way, and letting Treepo’s legacy live on by evolving another beast, but it felt wrong to me. I wanted to keep it with me. Then, when I had carried the crystal past Horsey, the max level beast had tried to snatch it to transform, and it was only my quick reflexes that saved it. I needed a way to keep it safely contained with me.

That led me to debate my options for both the crystal and the rest of the remains. I had learned over the years that burial was not often practiced in this world, but I considered it anyway. I could build a tomb, or preserve the remains in a stone casket, or do any number of things with magic, before I started considering what that might look like in another decade. Some of my beasts were quite large, and I would likely have to say goodbye to many over the years. If I entombed or buried them all, it would eventually get out of hand. In the end I decided to treat him the same way anyone in this world would see off a loved one and cremate by funeral pyre.

I had a small ceremony, and a few friends joined me. Rena rubbed my back as the fires burned away Treepo’s remains, and eventually she and the others left me there to watch the ashes cool.

Once I was alone, I pulled out a 4-point and 8-point magic circle from my inventory, and a small chunk of pure aluminum, as well as Treepo’s crystal from my pocket. I crouched next to the ashes, and reached into them with magic, pulling out the trace metallic elements. Bit by bit, I built a gemstone out of the trace metals and aluminum that I oxidized into a crystal around Treepo’s magic core. Later, I would mount it as a pendant and wear it around my neck, keeping it, and his memory, close to my heart.

* * *

I kept myself cooped up but busy for the rest of the winter, engaged in projects, experiments, and training. Spring came, as it did every year, and I rejoined the world with it, dealing with issues of the Guild and the farm and life in general.

Traffic to Freehold was on the rise, as the benefits of tarand use were being seen across the Kingdom. Any merchants who had dismissed them and stuck to oxalire-drawn wagons were being outcompeted, and they were finally giving in to the changing tides and coming to make purchases. Though I had continued breeding tarands, and had some great third-generation stock, I mostly reserved those for Guild members with a higher standing. To satisfy the demands of bulk orders, I had made multiple visits back into the north, through my mountain tunnel, to tame and retrieve more.

That summer, when Marshan came through Freehold, I decided to share with him something I had finalized over the winter.

“This is a double-walled, insulated container,” I explained. “There’s nothing particularly fancy about it, it just helps regulate the temperature of the contents. It’s got a small drain at the bottom, but otherwise, there’s not much to it.”

Marshan nodded, then made a ‘go on’ motion with his hand.

“This smaller box is an enchanted item. If you fill it with water, and apply enough magic to the enchantment, it will freeze the water and create a block of ice. You can partially fill the insulated container with ice, which will keep goods chilled during transport.”

Marshan’s eyes widened slightly, and he picked up the ice-maker delicately. “Can anybody use this?”

I shook my head. “It’s a fairly intricate enchantment, and it requires a good amount of magic talent to use. Anyone who has had a few years of proper magical training should have the requisite power to create a single block of ice. Someone with more experience and magical capacity could probably manage a few. Silver ranked Tamers Guild members might have enough magic from their training taming beasts, too, but that’ll depend on what they focused on and for how long they trained.”

“Sounds… expensive,” Marshan sighed.

“True,” I said. “But here’s the thing. Getting the container to the desired temperature in the first place will be a challenge, as it will require a lot of ice. Once the container has been fully chilled, though, the insulation will keep most of the cool air in, and stop the ice from melting. If you keep it tightly closed, avoid adding heated items, and keep it out of the direct sun, it should only require a small amount of ice each day as upkeep.”

Marshan hummed as he thought about it, before shrugging. “It might be worth trying.”

“Well, first one’s on me. And I know a guy who can charge you up, to start,” I said with a grin. “We’ve been experimenting with enclosed wagons, which will help block the sun, but it prevents cranes from loading and unloading crates, and limits how high you can stack goods. More comfortable for passengers though, so there are other benefits.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I continued making my pitch, and Marshan finally stopped me. “So how much cheese are you expecting me to buy with this?”

I grinned. “Well…”

* * *

The season marched on. Gardens grew, beasts were tamed, Guild members advanced, merchant convoys prospered, and soon enough the fall came around once more. I turned nineteen years old, although anyone in Freehold who was still tracking my dishonest age would think I was turning twenty-two if I told them it was my birthday.

Forn did the grain run that year, and with my income streams so comprehensive I decided not to join him. I did not need to sell any gemstones or make any new deals to ensure I was kept in gold coins. I had no need to return to Roko anytime soon—the dracosaur armor our local armorer made had been superb—and while the settlements along the way had grown thanks to the increase in merchant traffic coming east, they still were not large enough to merit expanding the Guild that way.

Looking around at Freehold and the farm property, it was impossible not to see how far it had come, but if I were being honest, I had hit the limits of my plans there. There were still niceties I could develop, further advances to make in terms of technologies, and I firmly considered Freehold and my property north of the village my home in this world, so I would no doubt return, but I had felt a bit stuck in place, particularly after losing Treepo.

Perhaps it’s time to take that journey south, I thought.

I could not shake the thought once I had it, and over the coming days I realized that I was already planning to leave. A couple of years spent on the road might do me good, and I looked forward to seeing more of what the world had to offer. When I returned, perhaps I would be old enough that I could actually consider women of my cohort adults, instead of teenagers, and perhaps even start a family.

That would be the longest I had spent away from Freehold since I landed there, but between all the people who had become a part of my life over the years and how well they had each taken to the various projects as well, they could manage without me.

Once Forn was back, I planned on saying my goodbyes, and heading off on the journey. I was looking forward to being a snowbird, heading south for winter to enjoy the warmth of the desert, and could finally check on those rumored dead zones and see if there were any dungeons that needed dealing with.

I was in a good mood, looking forward to my next adventure while helping out with the farm chores, when Hella and Onopedra jumped my gate—again—and raced up to me.

“Come on, Hella, can’t you just stop and open the gate? You shouldn’t be riding so fast anyway with the baby, Len’s going t–”

“Pilus,” she said, concerned. “Shut up. You’re needed at the Guild. Forn’s back, and he has army soldiers with him. And the soldiers are asking for you.”

* * *

My heart was hammering in my chest as I mounted up on Horsey and followed Hella back. Damn it. What’s this about, and why now?

The worst possible case was that my identity, regarding the revolution in the north, had been uncovered. In that case, maybe I should run. I could flee back to the north easily enough, or I could disappear into the south. Haklan was a big city, and I could hunker down there for a bit, and maybe even head further south, if that was even possible. Hella might know what it’s like beyond Haklan. But if I ask her, will she be suspicious?

My problem was, I did not want to abandon these people. They were my friends. If I was wanted for my crimes against the crown, and I ran, would the soldiers’ anger get taken out on the villagers? If so, they had no idea how powerful some of the people here had become. I was equally worried that the villagers would win, and bring even more pain down on their heads.

I was involved in enough business that there were any number of other possibilities besides treason. In fact, there was no real reason to assume that treason was the purpose of the army’s visit; I was reacting so poorly to the idea of it because it was the worst possible outcome, but it was more likely that it had something to do with what I had released into the world. Tarands, or cheese, or magical refrigeration, although that was so new that I could not imagine it had already had consequences. Perhaps it was just an issue with the Guild.

“Wait. Hella, were they asking for me, specifically, or for the Guild leader?” I asked as we neared the village.

“Uh. Guild leader, I think.”

Well, that’s a relief. Mostly. My time in the north likely was not the reason for the army’s visit, then, unless a soldier recognized the tarands as northern beasts, but I had never seen them around the Velgein villages, only finding them far, far to the east.

I had never filed any sort of paperwork in the capital to start a guild. Perhaps that was all this was. A failure to properly start an organization in the Kingdom that required the payment of some fees, a slap on the wrist, and I would be good to go south on my journey.

We pulled up to the branch, where a small contingent of soldiers were waiting, as well as a nervous-looking Forn and Rena. I dismounted and approached the soldiers, and an older man turned to examine me. He looked me up and down, apparently unimpressed.

“Are you the leader of this so-called Tamers Guild?”

“I am. What do soldiers of the great King Tobar’s army need of me?” I asked, trying to be humble.

The soldier shook his head. “I suppose news would not reach some backwater settlement like this. King Tobar is dead. His son, the new King Rugnor Horuth, has taken the throne.”

I thought back to the rumors I had heard in the past about the king’s family and succession. Which prince was Rugnor? The eldest, or–

The soldier stepped forward, and thrust an ornate piece of parchment into my hands. I took it, frowning, and looked it over.

“What is it?” Rena asked, stepping closer to peer past me at the notice.

“It’s an invitation,” I said. “I’ve been summoned to the capital.”

“For what?” Hella asked.

I turned the parchment around, showing her.

“A Tournament of Talents.”