Putting aside the matter of Ara nearly adding to my growing collection of scars, I had to wonder if Venicia’s school taught such tricks. Somehow, “Throwing Knives 101” didn’t seem like a course one could take at a school of etiquette.

Maybe it was an elective.

“What are you doing?” Keke shrieked, her eyes wide. “You could’ve hurt him!”

Ara looked in Keke’s general direction without turning her head. “I had no intention of hitting him.”

“Likely story,” Keke snapped.

“If I wished to put a dagger into Matt, I would have done so on the boat,” was Ara’s flat reply.

While I was beginning to recover from the shock, I looked over to where the dagger had soared. There was a slight yelp, but beyond that, we’d heard nothing more.

“Let’s check it out,” I said, pointing to the bush.

“Be careful. Please,” Cannoli replied with clasped hands. Keke and Ara were still too deep in their bickering to hear us.

I made my way to the bush with slow and careful steps, lest a wounded beast leap out from behind it. I peaked over the hedge and saw a bleeding… something. It was almost as round as a ball, with blue fur covering its entire body. Its claws—if you could call them that—were pointed and looked to be razor-sharp. As stubby as it was, I had a hard time believing it would ever have a chance at reaching any higher than my knees. A pile of half-burned berries rested beside it.

Sorry, little buddy.

“It’s okay. It’s dead.” I waved Keke over. “Mind taking a look?”

Keke whipped away from Ara and breathed deep, then approached the bush without a word. She peered over it and her face contorted in confusion. Murmuring something unintelligible beneath her breath, she moved around the bush and knelt down beside it. “I’ll try to carve it,” she said.

“What was it?” Tristan asked with boyish curiosity.

“Dunno. Looks like a fluffy blue soccer ball.” I shrugged and moved to stand beside Tristan and Cannoli.

“Soccer… ball?” Cannoli asked, frowning.

Tristan laughed. “A soccer ball. That’s a great mental image. Not very threatening then.”

Ah, right. You’re from Earth. You actually know what a soccer ball is.

“Since we’ve got a moment,” I started, glancing at Keke deep in her work. “Where were you from? I mean, originally. Before Nyarlea.”

Tristan blinked and tilted his head. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh, I see! Earth. Were you from Earth too? Your clothes look name brand. I mean, if that makes sense.”

I fought back the strong rush of emotions at coming face-to-face with someone from my original world. I paused before I answered. “Yeah. Washington.”

“Ah!” Tristan said with a big grin. “I grew up in California! West Coast buddies!”

My face grew hot, and I could feel a big, stupid smile coming on. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed Earth until now. “T-that’s great. Where in Cali?”

Ravyn stepped between us. “We can talk about this later. Let’s focus on what’s ahead.”

“R-right.” I shifted uncomfortably and coughed into my fist. “So, Tristan. Why don’t you switch into [Combat Mode] like the rest of us, and we’ll see what happens.”

“Do I just say it?”

I nodded. “That’s it.” A vain voice in the back of my head pleaded that he still had his starter gear. I’d noticed the combat equipment didn’t take up spots in my [Cat Pack], so assuming nothing ever happened to his gear, then he would at least have the beginner set.

“[Combat Mode]!” Tristan put his hand, and a bright light enveloped him. I don’t know if he was expecting the wand or whatever weapon he had to come out of the ground, but the pose reminded me of an awful lot of an anime I’d watched way back.

Tristan’s clothes—thankfully—switched out for some tanned, shoddy-looking robes. They looked a step down from the part of a magician’s apprentice, maybe closer to the part of a beggar. He had what remained of a cape, stained at the edges with… something, and several tears had eaten away at the hems. The belt was barely holding together around his waist, and his shoes were replaced with sandals.

There was no weapon in his hand.

“You don’t have a weapon.” It came out as a statement, though it was meant to be a question. “Didn’t you start off with a weapon?”

Tristan’s gaze wandered. He shut his eyes and tapped his forehead in thought. “Ah! I sold it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t remember her exact explanation, but Celestia said I wouldn’t need it anymore. So, I… sold it.”

I understood the words, but I couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing. Clearly, Ravyn was also having her reservations about the situation, as her mouth hung half-open.

“Dumbass is going to get killed! Going to get killed! Squawwwwk!” cried out Ball Gag.

Keke returned, pocketing a couple of scraps she had skinned off the Encroacher. “I managed to get a few good pieces of meat. We may be able to use the hide for gear.” She looked Tristan up and down with a blank stare. “Jeez, is that all you have?”

“Please refrain from insulting the young master,” Ara said pointedly. “I am perfectly capable of protecting him as a [Rogue].”

I sighed. “Okay, let’s see if you can at least view Ara’s [Stats]. Get your iPaw out.”

“Appear, iPaw,” Tristan said in a meek voice.

Moment of truth. Can I read his screen?

I moved so that Tristan and I were beside each other. He pulled up the window to his main screen, and, to my elation, his HUD displayed legible English in perfect HD clarity.

“Well, Ara’s already in your party,” I said, pointing to the portrait underneath his.

Ara went beet-red, gasping and dropping a knife in the process. “I-I-I, uh, I, that is—”

Keke sidestepped the blade with a hiss, staring at Ara with unabashed fury. It thudded to the ground where Keke’s foot had been just moments before.

I stared at Ara with a big grin. “Charming.” I looked back down at Tristan’s screen. “And look at that, she’s your only party member. You must like her a lot.”

“She’s a great friend! Ara makes the sandwiches,” Tristan said with all the whimsy of a bright-eyed child.

Ara gasped again. Her lips trembled. She looked down at the ground.

“[Rogue]” I said next, taking absolute delight in her embarrassment. “That explains the whoosh whoosh dagger.” I pantomimed the throw.

“It’s [Throw Dagger]!” Ara bellowed in what I was sure was a few octaves higher than she intended.

I clicked her portrait and scrolled down to her [Skills]. “Ah. So it is.”

Ara made a number of amusing sounds while Tristan and I discussed some of her talents. As behind as Tristan was, there were a few silver linings.

First off, he had a [Rogue] in his party. And a pretty damn good one, it seemed. Ara sat at a comfortable Base Level 15. So, at the very least, Ara’s proclamations weren’t just talk. She was stronger than Ravyn and Ceres, which did offer a bit of comfort as to the concern of Tristan’s safety.

Secondly, although Tristan had no gear and no Skills past [Fire Ball], he was Base Level 22. Taking all of his ineptitudes into account, he could at least rely on his base stats to carry some of his power. Level 1 of any skill sucked, but it sucked a lot less if you had the base stats to make up for it. I reviewed his current Stats screen.

Tristan

Base Level 22

Mage Class Level 10

Health Points: 26/26

Myana Points: 77/77

Energy: 150

Strength: 1

Vitality: 1

Dexterity: 3

Agility: 1

Magic: 4

Resistance: 2

I whistled. “Level 22 off of one chain quest. I’m impressed. That’s, uh, a lot of catgirls.”

Tristan frowned. “Don’t say it like that, please.”

“Sorry. But hey, look at the bright side. We just need to put in your Stat Points and Skill Points, and you’re golden,” I said. Remembering that no one else could see his screen, I elaborated. “He has twenty unused Stat Points and nine unused Skill Points.”

“Keh. We can work with this,” said Ravyn. She reached into her [Cat Pack], muttering to herself. After a few moments, she smiled and pulled out a small wand with an uncut stone of red adhered to the top. It looked a little well-loved, and I had to wonder if this was one of the few wands Ravyn started with. She snapped her [Cat Pack] shut and held out the small stick. “Take it. It amplifies fire magic. It should help.”

Though Tristan was a bit reluctant, he took the wand and held it to his chest with both hands. “Th-thank you.”

“There. Crisis averted. Sorta.” I shrugged.

Tristan looked at me with a concerned eye. “How do I put these points in?”

I guided him through the menus using my finger without taking the iPaw out of his hands. While I did so, I also spent the time explaining how to see certain features about his party makeup, what some of the Stats meant—at least, as far as I understood them—and provided my suggestions.

When we were finished, Tristan pinched his chin in thought. “Think I should just throw them into Magic?”

I grumbled. “Ravyn, can you help me out here? I’m not very experienced with magic classes.”

“That depends on if he wants to become a [Sorcerer] or a [Wizard].” Ravyn motioned for Ball Gag, and the blue hellkite of a bird fluttered down onto the top of her hand. “If you become a [Sorcerer], you can make better use of familiars, like Bally.”

“Bally? That’s a cute name,” Tristan said, stroking the bird under the chin.

Not his real name, but yeah, sure.

Ravyn smiled. “Why, thank you. [Mage] classes can also use familiars, as can the [Wizard] class. But their utility is limited. Only by becoming a [Sorcerer] can you learn to tap into their potential.”

“And [Wizard]?” I asked.

“[Wizard] can harness the elements to a greater degree than the [Sorcerer] or the [Mage]. Think of bigger flames, freezing enemies on the spot, blowing them away with powerful gusts, ripping holes in the very ground itself.” As Ravyn spoke, her smile grew. Her tone grew huskier and darker.

Wonder why she went [Sorcerer]. [Wizard] seems more her type if it does what she claims.

Tristan seemed somewhat perturbed by her change in tone as well.

Cannoli came to his side and put encouraging hands on his shoulders. “Don’t worry! We’ll support whatever class you decide to go with.”

My fists balled, and I clenched my jaw.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a while before you can get to Nyarlothep, anyway. You’ve got some time to think about it,” Keke said with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you. All of you.” Tristan beamed. I bristled.

“Y-Young Master. You do not have to worry about protecting yourself. O-only in a worst-case scenario,” Ara stressed.

I breathed a heavy sigh, glad to have the attention refocused. “The dude has to learn to protect himself. You won’t always be there.”

Ara frowned, and her expression darkened. “He will not be leaving the island.”

“Ara,” Tristan cautioned.

Ara composed herself. “Yes, Young Master.”

Tristan surveyed the destroyed buildings and burned forests. “Are all of the cities outside of Venicia like this?”

“Sorentina was attacked when we visited. According to the girls there, they’re one of the few places still standing,” Cannoli supplied quietly.

Tristan frowned. “I see.”

An awkward silence followed.

“Venicia’s influence is doing its best to encompass the other cities on the island,” Ara said as if reciting a handbook. “I would imagine that since Anyona is the furthest away from Venicia, it is naturally the worst off as it is the least protected.” Her expression was hard to read. It was as if she didn’t believe her own words.

Tristan looked to his only party member. “Ara.”

“Yes, Young Master?”

“I want to see more. I want to see what they’re struggling with. If there’s something I can do to help, I want to do it. Please assist me.”

Ara paused. Her gaze shifted between each of us, and I wondered if she’d thought we’d brainwashed him. She didn’t speak until she was looking directly at Tristan again. “As you wish, Young Master.”