“You were a huge help today. No way we clear the dungeon without you.”

“I just did my job,” Rowan replied. “You guys did all the heavy lifting.”

The armoured girl across from him smiled broadly at this, clearly happy to be buttered up by the porter who had saved their expedition. Reaching into her side pouch, she brought out a small bag that jingled pleasantly as she hefted it.

“I know we agreed you’d get a twentieth, but I’d feel bad giving you just that much after you saved Chono.” Off to the side, a boy dressed in wolf furs nodded, agreeing with his leader’s assessment. Handing the bag to Rowan, the girl grinned. “So here’s his portion. Hopefully that’s enough.”

“I can’t take this—” Rowan began, but the girl cut him off.

“Consider it the price he’s paying to learn why he shouldn’t stand in the fire.” She shot an amused glance towards Chono who had the good grace to cough and look away, an embarrassed look spreading across his bronze features. “You can also call it your healer’s fee for saving him. A few gold is a pittance to pay for a life after all.”

“Indeed,” Rowan echoed, his mind wandering at these words. His own life had nearly been lost for far less, and he had seen countless commoners left dead for nothing more than a few coppers and a sip of unfinished alcohol. From the feel of the bag in his hands, Chono’s life was worth several orders of magnitude more than his own.

“Anyways,” the girl continued, “we’d love to work with you again in the future, so don’t be a stranger, yeah? You’re the best porter we’ve ever had.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rowan responded. Satisfied with his answer, the girl turned, leading her party away. As they disappeared around the corner, he sighed, tossing the coin pouch in the air as he considered what to do next.

True to Kanna’s word, the party she had recommended him to—the Khalkla—had been both friendly and competent, and the dungeon had been completed largely without incident. Except for the part where Chono, one of the party’s slayers, had failed to notice a flame rune heating up beneath his feet.

Thankfully, Rowan had been paying attention, and had tackled him out of the way an instant before a pillar of flame had rushed up to superheat the spot he had been standing on.

Rather than be indignant about the method Rowan had employed to save him, Chono had been embarrassed, blushing whenever Rowan met his eye. Given how much he had caught the slayer looking at him, that had been a lot. Had Rowan not been fairly sure Chono was a man, he’d have thought he was a blushing bride, seeing her husband for the first time.

While Chono had been embarrassed, his party leader on the other hand had been ecstatic, thanking Rowan effusively for saving her friend, a sentiment the other party members had all echoed. Chono was well liked, and everyone had been glad to see him escape the consequences of his actions unscathed.

Truth be told, it felt good to receive such praise for his actions, and Rowan wore a tiny smile as he headed the long way through the castle towards the dormitory, not willing to take a shortcut through the frozen castle grounds. After his experience with the Jackal Claws, he had forgotten what it was like to be part of a party that gave praise where praise was deserved, Klou’s derision having washed the previous positive experiences from his memory.

Better yet, no one had died, and the final boss fight had gone without a hitch, the Khalkla fighters performing admirably in the face of the minor frostwyrm they had faced. And even better than that, he had been rewarded handsomely for it, something he always enjoyed.

Jingling the coin pouch in his pocket, Rowan could not help but smile, picking up the pace as he made for the dorm. Although they had done well in the dungeon, it had still taken a while for them to clear it, and there was someone he needed to see off today.

Stopping in only long enough to deposit his armour and weapons, Rowan immediately headed back out, this time braving the frozen lawn of Faebrook. The wind coming off the river was frigid and sucked the life from his bones, but he persevered, aiming for the front gate where a small crowd of students milled, standing just inside the shelter of the walls as they awaited their ride.

Hands in his pockets, Rowan hunched down, doing his best to provide as little a target for the wind as possible. It didn’t work, but the act of doing so at least helped take his mind off the fact that his cheeks and ears had gone past being numb and were now steadily regaining feeling; pain mostly.

His eyes nearly frozen shut, Rowan was relieved to finally feel the air around him grow still, the walls providing a bulwark against which the wind could only howl helplessly at its prey within. It would have him back soon enough, but for now Rowan was happy to be merely cold instead of freezing.

Rubbing his hands together for warmth, Rowan searched the crowd for a familiar face. It did not take him long to spot the one he was looking for, the tall boy with dirty blond hair standing out in the throng of students waiting for their ride. Luckily, he was fairly close, and Rowan wasted no time moving towards him, sensation returning to his fingers as he raised a hand to wave at his friend.

“Dugan!”

“Rowan!” Dugan greeted. Seeing his friend approached, he made a face. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, glad to see you too,” Rowan groused. To be fair, Dugan was right. He hadn’t had time to wash, and the dungeon while therapeutic had not exactly been a cakewalk. He probably looked frozen and smelled like death, neither of which were aided by the lack of sleep he had gotten recently. All in all Dugan’s statement was a factual one, if not a kind one.

Dugan grinned. “Glad to see you’re out and about though. You had me worried for a bit there.”

“Sorry.”

Dugan waved him off. “No need to apologize. Just glad to see the old you back.”

Rowan managed a small smile. “Just in time to see you off.”

He hadn’t told Dugan what had happened down in the dungeon with the Jackal Claws, but his actions the past few weeks had made it obvious enough that something was wrong. As had the constant harassment of Klou’s friends in House Lykia. Despite it all, Dugan had remained by him, something Rowan was thankful for, even if he would rather die than tell him that.

“Better late than never,” Dugan quipped. “And speaking of, that’s my carriage. My parents will kill me if I’m late, so you got here in the nick of time.”

In front of them, a large carriage drew up to the gate, its white exterior glistening in the frosty air. As it stopped, the doors opening, several other students began to file on, all keen to get back home for the holidays. Sneaking a quick glance at the line, Dugan drew a soft looking package out from his pocket and handed it to Rowan.

“This is for you. Don’t open it until Galdurfest officially starts though, bad luck if you do.”

“You didn’t have to—” Rowan began, but Dugan cut him off.

“Of course I didn’t, dummy. I got it for you because I wanted to.”

“But I didn’t get you anything,” Rowan protested.

Dugan smiled. “I didn’t get you a gift because I expected something back. I got you something because you’re my friend.”

Even Dugan didn’t manage to say this last bit with a straight face, his cheeks flushing a pale pink, something Rowan mirrored. For a moment, neither boy said anything, but the dwindling line behind them soon forced them to action. Busying himself with his luggage, Dugan grinned at Rowan.

“Try and stay out of trouble while I’m gone, yeah? You’ve already got one house after your guts. I don’t want to come back and find out you’ve added another.”

“No promises,” Rowan replied, unable to contain his smile at Dugan’s banter.

“All I can ask for, really.” Climbing to his feet, Dugan hefted his bag. “See you soon then, I guess. And have a good winter break!”

With that, he was off, handing his luggage to the carriage driver who stored it underneath with the rest. Waving to Rowan one last time, Dugan disappeared inside, the carriage door shutting behind him.

A minute later, it was disappearing into the distance, the enchanted transport far faster than its size should allow. As the white carriage was swallowed up by the snow-clad forest, Rowan turned, nodding to the guard on duty as he re-entered the castle and considered his next move.

It was too damn cold to train outside, but he knew from experience that the members of House Lykia liked to use this time to monopolize the gym and indoor training grounds. Given that he did not have any desire to lose a tooth or three today, that meant that training was out of the question.

Visit Kanna? Rowan frowned at this thought. He had not been back to visit Kanna since their study session in her office, only seeing her in class and once afterwards to inform her that he would join the Khalkla in their dungeon run.

It was not as if he was purposefully avoiding her. It was just kind of awkward for him to see her right now, given that the last time they had been alone he had cried. Although he was not a subscriber to the idea that men could never cry, he still felt weird about having cried in front of his mentor. Maybe I do have some pride after all.

Regardless, Rowan still did not feel like seeing Kanna alone just yet, and so that was out, which did not really leave him with many options for something to do. Eh, I’m sure I’ll find something.