Feena looked wary. She was standing with one foot behind the other, her arm unconsciously raised halfway as if to keep me at a distance. Her eyes wandered between me and the monsters outside. Then to the corpse of her pack crawler. The beetle’s carapace was cracked open, exposing dark purple flesh beneath, leaking blood that soaked into the rain.

And right in front of it, a group of fish-headed monsters raked their claws across her barrier. Sparks flew with every strike. The barrier continued to dim.

She swallowed and met my eyes. Feena narrowed her own.

“What kind of trade do you want, Ashran?”

I thought for a moment, pausing. Then I smiled and raised a finger, “If my help manages to get you out of here alive, then how about you tell me something interesting?”

Feena raised an eyebrow, “…Anything interesting? Just that?”

“Sure. I’m sure a black-badged courier has a lot of interesting stories, right?”

I gestured to the dark badge on her vest, marking her as a blackrunner. A high profile courier—ones tasked with the most dangerous, important, or clandestine of deliveries. Seeing as how she was barely equipped to save herself, my guess was the latter.

All I hoped was that her interesting fact wouldn’t be about a saucy royal’s letter or something of the like. I gave her a nod and extended a hand as the barrier keeping us safe from the monsters dimmed further.

“So, a trade?”

She shook my hand, “You’re the sketchy kind I usually try to avoid, Ashran, but I don’t have much of a choice. I accept.”

The moment the words left her mouth, I felt the connection form. It bound me to my word. An immortal’s trade was his promise. And once I fulfilled my end of the bargain, Ashran would become stronger once again. I grinned and tightened my grip on her hand as she tried to pull it away.

“Then as promised—”

I pulled her forward as I stepped into a shadow. My foot sank, the shadows rose, and Feena cried out as the darkness swallowed us both. It felt cold for half an instant and then we were stepping out, out behind the caravan, where the shadow was large enough to let us both exit. There, I found the monsters whirling to face us, snarling as Feena stumbled out of the shadows with me.

I raised the bansuri to my lips as the monsters got ready to pounce.

“—I’m helping. I’ll do my best not to die, so get to running.”

The monsters gurgled out roars and Feena didn’t hesitate. She sprinted for the trees. A drownstalker leapt after her, but I was already stepping forward, into the shadows once again. I shadow-walked out from a nearby tree and kicked it in the side, sending it tumbling across the mud. It rolled back to its feet, growling. Attention on me.

Three more stalkers circled me and I exhaled a long, steady breath. My face shifted into a wry smile.

So much for gaining a reputation as a good musician.

I sprinted through the trees.

Four monsters sprinted after me.

One of them lunged out from the left, mouth open, piranha’s teeth glistening in the rain. I sidestepped into a shadow and sunk inside, appearing ten meters away. Another creature pounced at me. I raised my bansuri and played. Wind roared at my command, but it was stumbling, inaccurate. The steelwind smashed into a nearby tree and felled it. The creature’s claws raked across my shoulder.

Red blood sprayed across my face and I roared in pain, stumbling back, cursing. The creature pressed forward and pounced. We went down. I grabbed its clawed wrists with my hands, holding its claws away from my face.

The other three stalkers rushed towards us. Overwhelming.

I raised a foot and stomped it at the ground. The canopy shadow swallowed me and the monsters and then we were falling out of a shadow from above, smashing into branches and whirling in the air. I twisted so that it was below me. We smashed into the ground and the creature’s leg twisted the wrong way. It screeched. I kicked it away.

Two monsters leapt at my sides and I staggered into a dodge, failing, feeling claws draw shallow cuts along my back. I grabbed one by the back of the neck and whirled. I smashed it into a tree and let go and shadow-walked again.

I kept running. They were faster.

Drawing my bansuri close to my lips, I played again. The wind answered. It roared past me in a powerful gust, but it failed to turn solid. The wind kicked fallen leaves into the air and that was all it did. I cursed as Traveler formed beside me at a run.

“Makes you appreciate all the power I lent you whenever you used me as a weave, eh? Can I get a thankies, chief?”

“Shut up,” I growled, the pain burning through my shoulder and back. These injuries were only to my weave—to Ashran—but I felt them so long as I used his identity. And they hurt like hell. The monsters round me ran on all fours, panting, snarling over the sound of the rain like bloodthirsty little goblins. Except they weren’t goblins—they were bigger, meaner, and they had claws and teeth that were more vicious than a smith’s prized knife.

I severely overestimated the strength I had in this weave. And as annoying Traveler was, channeling my immortal power through him would’ve killed these things in an instant. I was reliant on him to get things done. Too reliant.

That was changing here.

A stalker leapt at me and I dove and skidded across the mud. It landed behind me. I whirled, my fist flailing, and my stone-covered knuckles connected with its face. Its teeth shattered and blood sprayed. It stagged back and I scrambled up and forward and threw a wild punch again. It connected—chest. Ribs cracked. Face. It roared in pain. I raised my fist to punch it in the neck and—

One of the monsters leapt out from the shadows and dug its claws into my back. The stone over my skin stopped it from tearing me to ribbons. I cried out, stumbling as it drew blood, and it opened its mouth to bite at the part of my neck unprotected by my natural armor. I slammed the back of my head into its face and grabbed its arms and tore its claws out of my back. I hurled it at its friend and the two slammed into each other. They tumbled back to their feet, bleeding and bruised.

But still alive. And still capable of tearing me apart.

The monsters snarled. The third stalker joined them and the group of beasts circled me like prey. I was no warrior, and they knew it. I was a bull surrounded by wolves, and after exhaustion took hold, I would be easy prey.

“How much time has it been since Feena ran away?” I asked, panting. As soon as she was far enough, I would be able to run as well.

Traveler stood by me and shrugged, “A bit under two minutes.”

I paused.

“…Seriously?”

“Time sucks, don’t it?”

Traveler sunk into my shadow again, the construct dissipating as the monsters rumbled their growls at me. I groaned and faced the beasts.

“Would any of you be interested in a trade with an immortal?”

They snapped their mouths in my direction and hissed.

“Damn.”

Why did that never work?

I shook my head and clenched my fists. I bent my knees and forced my breathing into a steady rhythm, despite the erratic beating of my heart. Focus on the moment. Bleed the fear and anxiety out from your feet. A mistake is fatal. Sharpen your mind into a blade and sever the hesitation from your thoughts.

Elanah’s advice. It irritated me that even now, I drew on my experience with her for guidance. Alchemy was dangerous. It bent the rules of reality just as much as magic—it combined the old ways and science and arcane. It could give a man youth and grant the eyes of mortals a way to see into places both invisible and faraway. It could turn rivers into poison, create explosions to shatter forests, and create things from thin air.

Compared to the dangers of the lab, what were a couple stupid monsters?

I survived the Blight Witch’s poison as a child. I would survive this now.

All three monsters charged at me. Leapt.

I stepped forward into a shadow again. I teleported behind the smallest of the beasts and threw a punch. It connected. My fist sent it to the ground and I stomped at its chest. My foot shattered the side of its ribcage. It gurgled and writhed and I raised my arm just in time to block the second stalker. It clamped down on my forearm with its teeth. The stone flesh coating the top half of my arm stopped its teeth dead.

I reached for its throat and squeezed. It choked, mouth popping open, and I stepped into another shadow, dodging the third beast as I brought the second with me.

We emerged. I slammed it into a tree. Once, twice. I threw it to the ground and grabbed its feet and swung it around like a wet rag. I smashed its skull into a nearby trunk and it shattered and the creature dropped.

One dead.

I turned—too late. The third rushed me and clamped its teeth around my leg. It tugged and suddenly I was falling, crashing to the ground. I screamed and kicked wildly as it tore into the part of my leg without stone skin. My foot connected and it skidded back, growling and snapping.

I stood, panting and bleeding.

Fighting was much, much harder without magic. But I could do it. I wasn’t trained, but I was a half-troll. My father’s race were monstrously strong and their stone skin could stop blades as well as any steel. I would not lose to beasts. Even as a halfling.

I glared at the two remaining drownstalkers, all of us injured and limping, and the healthiest one snarled.

And then it turned, and it ran into the trees. The second one limped after the first.

I stared blankly at the patch of forest they disappeared into.

And I began to laugh.

I fell on my ass, soaked in rain and mud, and I laughed at myself until my stomach hurt. I wiped at my face and my hands came away covered in dirt and blood. Everything hurt. But Ashran survived. My weave didn’t get torn apart. And once I was back on the ship, back to safety, I could work on repairing the wounds on my mortal mask.

I stood, grinning and shaking my head. I was alive. I felt it in the thrum of my heart and the pumping of my blood, in my ragged breathing and the dryness of my throat. I engraved the sensation into my mind.

Finding the right chords for this kind of feeling would be fun.

But that would come later. Because right now, I had a trade to attend to and a weave to strengthen. I started walking towards where Feena ran, back towards the direction of the road. Every few seconds, my boots took me into the shadows, a single step teleporting me fifteen meters away.

It didn’t take me long to find the lone courier.

She stood at the edge of the road, resting against a tree. Feena hugged her courier’s satchel close to her chest. Her eyes opened as I approached, and she blinked, looking me up and down.

“I didn’t think you’d actually fight them,” she said. “Did you kill them?”

“Killed one,” I replied. “Scared off the rest.”

I joined her beside the tree, plopping down under the shade of the leaves where the rain didn’t reach. I sighed and felt adrenaline drained out of me. My weave’s injuries stung like they were my own. Same for the ache in my muscles and the shaking of my hands. Feena sat down beside me and smiled.

“They sure roughed you up. Didn’t you say you were a learned mage?”

“I am. Kind of. Mostly, I just cast fist until the monsters went away.”

“For what it’s worth, your fist spell saved my life. Need a potion?”

“Keep it,” I said, glancing at the three reinforced vials strapped to her belt. “The one your have is too expensive to spare on shallow wounds like these.”

“Well, I won’t say no to saving money.”

“Same reason you went out without an artifact to defend yourself with?”

Feena shook her head, sighing. “No. I had one—a force wand. It fell down the cliff-side of the road when the monsters attacked. Today’s been terrible.”

“You have my pity,” I said, covered in wounds, and she laughed.

“Thanks.”

The courier reached into her satchel and retrieved a thin, metal card. She handed it to me and winked, “If you’re ever in need of a good, reliable delivery service, ask for Feena Flanche at the closest courier’s guild or post office. This card gives you a five percent discount.”

I gave the card a flat stare, then turned my eyes up to her cheeky grin, “You sure are shameless for someone I just had to save from a pack of drownstalkers.”

“A girl’s gotta make a living, right?”

I snorted and took the card, pocketing it. “So—it’s about time you fulfill your end of the trade. Tell me something interesting.”

Feena thought for a moment, a finger on her chin. Then she smiled.

“There’s been word out lately about a powerful new identity in this part of the realm,” she said, her eyes shining. “You know—one of those mysterious people in the stories, like the Blight Witch and the Lady of Crows? I passed by a village yesterday that was saved by a cloaked stranger. The kid there said he split a massive mudslide right in half, all for one of the village’s most precious treasures.”

I stared at her, blinking, before breaking out into a loud, cackling laugh. And as I laughed, I felt the power flow into me—strengthening Ashran. I felt my control over the essences rise. I heard the voice of the world more clearly. By just a little bit.

I rose to my feet, grinning and shaking my head.

“Don’t believe me?” she asked, pouting. “I’m not gullible, you know. I just… it’s interesting, right!? All these walking myths! And so many people have seen them! There has to be some truth to it, right?”

I waved a hand to the side, unable to tear the smile from my face. “No, you’re right. All stories stem from old truths, as they say. But should you really be listening to some kid in a village?”

Feena hesitated.

“She was convincing,” the courier muttered, affronted. “Don’t judge me.”

I laughed, “I’m not. Thank you for the interesting story, Feena. It makes the trouble of saving you worth it.”

Turning, I stepped away from the tree and into the rain. I pulled the hood of my cloak up to keep the water off my hair. As I got ready to leave, I felt Feena’s eyes on my back. She gave me a curious look.

“Going already?” she asked. I nodded. “Where?”

“Where else? To wherever another person needs an idiot to save the day.”