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“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Abby, sitting next to Zeke on one of the rocking chairs positioned on the cottage’s porch. She had just told him about her assassination of Callum Einar, and he hadn’t taken it very well. If Zeke was honest with himself, he would’ve admitted that he was only angry because he wanted to be the one to make the man pay for his crimes. He hadn’t liked the idea of going to the guild for help, and he’d been secretly relieved that it had come to naught. In the back of his mind, he’d imagined storming the man’s compound, killing everything in his way, and then executing the haughty mage, one crushing mace-blow at a time. Abby’s way had been objectively better, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“I wish you would have told me what you had planned,” he said, slowly rocking back and forth. Abby had bought a couple of rocking chairs for the hut, which they’d placed on the newly formed front porch. Pudge slept at his feet, his snores practically rattling the entire porch. The hut had grown once again, and it had become a proper house, complete with a second story. The stones that made up its walls were better fitted, it had gained a front porch, and the cellar had been enlarged to keep up with the rest of the house. On top of that, the facilities had improved as well, and the bathroom had come to resemble something approaching modernity, with a real toilet, a sink, and a proper shower. They still didn’t have hot water, but Zeke expected that to eventually come.

In truth, he understood very little about the house and its associated abilities. It seemed unique, though, and he expected that it would continue to grow until it lived up to the name of the skill. The Crimson Tower. He was its steward, whatever that meant.

“If I had, you would have insisted on coming with me,” she said. “Which would have ruined the plan. You’re a lot of things, Zeke, but sneaky is definitely not one of them. You’d have probably wanted to charge through the front gate, whacking people with your club along the way.”

In the darkness, Zeke blushed. That was precisely how he’d imagined it going. But Abby didn’t need to know that. So, he remained silent, staring off into the night. After Abby’s unscheduled assassination, they’d left Beacon and traveled through that night and the following day, only stopping when the sun set on them once again. They’d gone north, angling a little to the east so they could circumvent the Farindale Forest and the bulk of the undead horde that were its inhabitants.

“Why are we doing this?” she asked. “I’m not arguing against it or anything, but we’re not really getting much out of it.”

“Two items from Beacon’s vault,” Zeke said. “From what I understand, a lot of people would kill for that opportunity.”

“You don’t care about that kind of stuff.”

Zeke shook his head. In the months since they’d met in that ruined elven city, Abby had grown to know him very well. In some ways, that was good. They could anticipate one another in battle, adjusting without articulating the need. And Zeke couldn’t deny the comfort he felt in their friendship. He had never had close friends, but he had to admit that he liked having a companion, especially in a land as dangerous and unforgiving as the Radiant Isles.

And then there were other considerations, like the fact that his heart beat a little faster every time he looked at Abby. Or that anytime he let his mind wander, he found himself thinking about what it would be like to have a future together. He was well aware that it was just a simple crush, and that it would never come to anything, but he still couldn’t force himself to stop thinking about it. The best he could do was to occupy his mind with something else.

“Oh – I got something for you,” Abby said, reaching down to the satchel she’d set down by her feet. A second later, she came up holding a thick tome, which she handed to Zeke. “From Elder Einar’s library.”

He took the offered book, flipping it over so he could study it. The cover was made of leather, and it was adorned with lettering in gold leaf. The title was Runic Composition. It looked like nothing so much as a fancy textbook, which was, in a way, exactly what it seemed to be.

“This is…this could change everything for me…”

In truth, he’d fully intended to look for such a book – or books – while in Beacon, but everything had gotten out of hand, and he’d forgotten. However, Abby was obviously looking out for him. Up until this point, Zeke’s progress in runecraft had been limited by a lack of knowledge. Everything he knew, he’d gleaned from the runes that governed his skills. But he knew that that was only one facet of what runes could do. There were enchantments; he’d studied some of the enchanted items they’d picked up along the way, but most were rudimentary in design. There were also curses. Even blessings, from what he’d heard from some of the Radiant Guards with whom he’d been training for the last week.

He flipped open the book and looked at the contents. Indeed, there were sections for everything, but as thick as it was, he knew it was little more than a basic primer. An introduction to the craft, so to speak.

Looking up, he saw Abby grinning. She really did have a fantastic smile. “Thank you,” he said as sincerely as he could. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Knew you’d like it,” she said, still smiling. “Does this mean we’re okay? You’re not mad at me?”

He shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted. “Just…next time, let me know what you intend to do. Even if you think I’ll disagree, okay? We need to be on the same page, especially out here. Master Silas told me this is going to be extremely dangerous.”

She snorted. “That far from Beacon? How could it not be?” she scoffed. “I don’t really trust him. I know you were working with him for a few days, but…you know he’s not just a trainer, right? He’s the temple’s spymaster.”

“I figured he was something like that,” Zeke said. Indeed, on the two brief occasions when he’d been to meet with Lady Constance, Silas had spoken to the woman like they were equals. According to everyone he’d met, Constance was the most powerful woman on the Radiant Isles, so anyone who could treat her like a contemporary was probably just as powerful. Moreso than a position as a simple training master would indicate, at least.

“What did Lady Constance have to say to you?” Abby asked.

“Mostly, she just wanted me to rescue her daughter, who’s a healer,” Zeke said. The meetings had been brief, more so the woman could take his measure than anything else, he suspected.  “She also gave me a few pointers with my shield work.”

“How’s that going?” she asked.

Zeke shrugged. “It’s…difficult,” he answered. “With my mace, everything has always been kind of intuitive. Natural, even. And when I got my martial path, it just got easier. I could see things more clearly, you know? With the shield, I have to work, and not just a little bit. I’ve spent so much time trying to avoid getting hit that just standing there and taking an attack, even if it’s on the shield, feels counterintuitive.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So, you were actually trying not to get hit all this time?” she asked. “Are you sure? Because you got hit a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. I thought you were just using your body to…I don’t know…dull the monsters’ claws or something?”

“Funny,” he said, shaking his head. “Ha, ha. It’s weird. I’ve got plenty of agility. Like, way more than you, probably. But I couldn’t move the way you move, even if I wanted to. I’m just not built for it.”

For a moment, Abby didn’t respond. Then, she said, “I had it explained to me a few years back. I worked with this guy who’d been here for a few decades, and he told me it was all in our heads.”

“In what way?”

“Okay, so you were an athlete before, right?” she asked. He nodded. “But I’m guessing you didn’t specialize in speed or anything.”

“I was a catcher,” he stated. “Finding a fast catcher, even when you’re looking at the really athletic ones, is rare. We’re quick over short distances, like blocking wild pitches and stuff, but ask us to run? Yeah – that’s hardly ever going to work out well.”

“You’re used to being slow, then,” Abby said. “And that mindset still affects you. You’re obviously way faster than before, and I’ve seen how you move that mace. But you’ve probably got the agility to go ten times faster than the fastest person to ever live on Earth. The only thing holding you back is your mind.”

“So, you’re telling me that I just have to believe?” he asked. “Like Peter Pan and flying or something? That sounds stupid.”

She laughed. “It’s not about belief, idiot,” she said, her tone good-natured. “It’s about getting used to it and pushing yourself past it. That’s what Silas was doing, by the way. He was trying to get you used to your stats. It’s a slow process, but you’ve already made progress.”

Zeke was about to dispute that, but then he stopped himself. Looking back to his very first spar with the Radiant Guards in training, Zeke had barely been able to keep up with a single combatant. However, after only a week, he’d fought three to a standstill.  He hadn’t won any fights, but he had made progress.

Suddenly, he rose from his chair, saying, “I’m going to go train. Silas gave me some drills to do.”

Again, Abby shook her head. “I think he created a monster,” was her response.

“Like you’re any different,” Zeke said, already summoning his armor. He started putting it on; luckily, he didn’t have to actually buckle the straps. Instead, he could just put the piece in the appropriate spot, and it would fasten itself into place. It made him self-sufficient, and it cut down on the time it would usually take to don a full set of armor. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you up every morning and shooting hundreds of arrows.”

In the flickering firelight, Zeke thought he saw the woman blush. “Fair enough,” she said.

As Zeke stepped off the porch, which was constructed of a white stone similar to the house itself, Pudge woke up and followed him a few feet away from the cottage.

Pudge train, too, the bear thought at him.

The thought startled Zeke. Pudge was a lot of things, but he’d never seemed possessed of a drive for self-improvement. But maybe that was merely a symptom of his youth. As big as the bear had gotten, it was sometimes difficult to remember that he was still a child with less than a year’s worth of life experiences under his belt.

“Okay, buddy,” Zeke said, stowing his mace and shield. As much as he wanted to engage in the drills Silas had given him, he also wanted to give Pudge every opportunity to improve his own combat ability. Plus, the idea of wrestling with his companion seemed like it might be fun.

No shell, Pudge said, and it took Zeke a moment to understand what the bear meant.

“I need to get used to moving in my armor,” he complained. A few feet away, Abby giggled. Obviously, she only heard one side of the conversation, but it wasn’t difficult for her to infer what was happening.

Too scared to fight Pudge without shell, the bear thought. Pudge understands. Zeke soft and weak.

“Oh, come on – you’re a freaking bear, and you’re talking trash to me?” Zeke said, rolling his eyes. But he’d already started taking off his armor. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t complain to me when I –”

The moment he’d stowed the last piece of his armor, Pudge hit him like a runaway freight train. Zeke went sprawling, the air knocked from his lungs, but he managed to disengage and roll to his feet. Pudge, meanwhile, paced back and forth, a low growl coming from his throat.

“So, it’s going to be like that, huh?” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “Okay.”

Pudge rushed him again, but this time, Zeke was ready. He caught the pony-sized bear, and though it was like being hit by a car, he managed to remain upright. Then, it was his turn. With a deft maneuver, he slithered to the side and locked his arms around Pudge’s thick neck, intending to choke him out. Pudge had other ideas, though, and he reared up on his hind legs, lifting Zeke off the ground.

Zeke held fast, but he didn’t have the leverage to continue with his plan. So, he dropped back to the ground and backed away. Standing upright, Pudge cut an impressive figure that towered over Zeke by a few inches, at least. It didn’t matter. The gauntlet had been thrown, and he wasn’t going to back down. Instead, he shot forward and put his shoulder into a football tackle aimed at the bear’s waist.

For his part, Pudge resisted for the barest of instances, but he didn’t have the strength or durability to endure such a blow. He went tumbling to the ground with Zeke on top of him. Pudge tried to fight back, but Zeke pinned him down and refused to let him up. Finally, with an angry thought, Pudge gave up.

Zeke rolled off his companion, breathing hard. Pudge sat up, panting.

“Catch your breath, and then we can do it again,” Zeke said. “But before you do…”

When Zeke had gotten level fifteen in the sewers, he had gained access to another skill. However, in the city, he hadn’t had much opportunity to play with it. Because it was intended to enhance other people’s stats, it would’ve been useless in his training with Master Silas. But now? In the wilderness? It was a good chance to see how it affected his companions.

“What was that?” Abby asked, shooting to her feet. “I felt all tingly, and…oh…my strength…”

“It’s a buff,” Zeke stated. “Called [Mark of the Bear]. It increases your vitality and endurance. It was my level fifteen skill.  It costs a steady trickle of mana, but with my wisdom, I regenerate pretty fast, so I don't really notice the draw.  And besides, it's not like I'm using it for much else."

Abby’s smile was all the confirmation he needed, and any regret he’d felt washed away in the space of a second. “Oh, I could get used to this,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “Maybe I’ll join you two in training.”

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