Riding to Westfall Pass would take the better part of a day. So as she rode, Frances had to force herself to scan the road and resist the temptation to look over her shoulders to her friends.

She knew Elizabeth was angry at her, but she didn’t know why, or even how badly. Her classmate seemed to be jealous of her, but the constant apologies didn’t seem to help that. The girl seemed to sway between worry and fury so quickly that Frances had no idea what she felt.

Martin had to be annoyed at Elizabeth too. Frances looked up to the knight, whose visor was open, and was scanning the road winding up to the pass’s entrance. She needed to get Elizabeth and him to make up. But she’d never had to get people to become less angry with each other. She only ever had to deal with people being angry at her.

Frances exhaled, slowly, to disguise her groan as a sigh. She’d been trying so hard to befriend Martin and Elizabeth. She’d made snacks, Hearthsange and done everything she could to help them, but now they were annoyed at each other.

To make matters worse, her mentor hadn’t covered or discussed how to resolve friendship problems. In fact, Edana had been a bit hesitant to give Frances advice on how to make friends. She'd explained her hesitance by pointing out that Frances needed to learn how to make friends, not learn how Edana would make new friends. She had also mentioned that Frances should try not to think too hard about how to get along with potential friends, and instead, just accompany them or ask what would people she liked enjoyed doing or talking about.

It was this advice that Frances had tried to follow, and it seemed to be going well, until this moment.

“Frances,” Elizabeth said.

Frances jumped, torn out of her thoughts. Elizabeth had nudged her horse so it was beside hers.

“I’m really sorry about what I said. Can you forgive me?” Elizabeth asked. Her visor was up and Frances could instantly tell she was being sincere, and more than a little anxious.

“I… of course,” said Frances, relieved to do so. She smiled, “I’m sorry for making you angry at me.”

“Angry at you—” Elizabeth blinked, eyes reflecting confusion “—Frances, you didn’t do anything. I was just being jealous of you.”

Frances’s mind did the equivalent of a record scratch and she stared blankly at Elizabeth.

“By Amura and Rathron, why would you be jealous of me?” Frances asked. The girl couldn’t imagine why anybody would be envious of her. When Frances tried to think of why Elizabeth would be jealous, memories of her parents screaming at her swirled into the forefront of her mind. She could suddenly, vividly, hear them telling her what she was—just a worthless girl.

Elizabeth blinked, opened her mouth and suddenly looked ashamed.

“I… you don’t know this, but our instructors quite often whisper how good you are, and why we aren’t any better. We also… hear things in the rumour mill. Like how you cast true lightning and can teleport.” Elizabeth sighed. “And when I was sent to meet you I wanted to know more, so I talked to everybody I knew to find out about you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken the rumours so seriously.”

Frances shut her eyes, trying to block the words her parents berated her with. Yet, “worthless,” and “waste-of-space” continued to surface like corks that wouldn’t sink. Logically, she knew that she wasn’t worthless, or a waste of space. Edana had repeatedly told her that she was worthy, and she trusted her loving mentor.

But no matter what, Frances couldn’t help but remember that her own parents thought she was worthless.

“Elizabeth, yes, I can cast true lightning, and I know the theory behind teleportation and have tried it once before you arrived, but the rumours you heard are likely exaggerated. While my missions were successful, they weren’t too challenging. Most of them were escort or defence missions.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Hold on, but you succeeded in all of your missions?”

Frances nodded, not quite sure how that was relevant. Elizabeth looked like she was going to say something, but Martin drew his horse back so he was beside them.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but listen in. Do you mind if I join this conversation?” Martin asked.

Frances smiled and shook her head, whilst Elizabeth said, “Please! And I’m sorry for being such a burden, Martin.”

“All’s forgiven. You’re just nervous before your first battle. Please continue your line of inquiry, Elizabeth.” The knight was extremely curious to know how the Otherworlders thought of each other, especially since Frances seemed to be far apart from the others.

Elizabeth was beginning to put the pieces together and she pressed on. “Frances, how many missions have you completed?”

“Three,” Frances said.

“You do realize that none of us have been given more than one mission and even then we’ve all failed?” Elizabeth asked, watching the girl’s features.

Frances stared at Elizabeth. “What? But… how… how about Jake? You know, class jock Jake?”

“He quit three months ago. Teleported himself back home,” Elizabeth said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. Jake had berated many when they failed their missions, only to quit on the eve of his own.

Agog, Frances searched for another name and face. “Wanda? Smartest girl, class president Wanda?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Not doing great. She’s trying to be a mage, but she panicked when orcs attacked her caravan in Lapanteria.”

“Jessica and Leila?” Frances spluttered. Her old bullies had to be doing well. They terrorized her when she was at school and she vividly remembered their fists against her skin.

Elizabeth took a moment to recognize those two names, but when she did, a host of unpleasant memories came back. “Those two? Annoyingly enough they did okay on their first mission. Jessica may have mellowed a bit, but Leila still tries to pick on people. Anyway, they have other things to worry about. They’ve just been sent on a second mission now that they’re rather nervous about.”

“Alan and Charlie? I know they’re your good friends and are really—”

“They failed and just teleported home,” Elizabeth spat, her voice choking at the end. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Sorry. I… I’m sorry,” she croaked, bitter feelings rising back to squeeze her throat and burn like bile.

“Don’t be. You’re mad and angry, and sad. You don’t need to apologize for that,” Frances said. Taking a deep breath, Frances nudged her horse closer to Elizabeth and gently reached her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Would you like to stop for a moment, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth sniffled. “I’m good. I’m just…” She turned to look at Frances, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt. “How do you do it, Frances? How are you so… comfortable in this world?”

Frances knew the answer that immediately, but she took a moment to give Elizabeth her handkerchief, waiting for the girl to use it to wipe her eyes.

“It’s mostly because my mentor, Edana, is a great teacher, and has spent substantial time training me,” Frances said finally, thinking how lucky she was to have met her Master.

“Edana? Isn’t she the head of the White Order?” Elizabeth asked.

“You’re apprenticed to Edana Firehand?” Martin scream-shouted, at a pitch so high that Frances wondered if he had trained to be a soprano. After giving her ears a moment to recover, she nodded.

“Edana Firehand?” Elizabeth asked questioningly.

Martin stared at Elizabeth as if she’d grown a second head. “The Flame of Erisdale, the Princess of Perdition, the Human Kingdoms' most powerful mage, period. She has taken on armies and won. Yet, she asks nothing for herself but comfortable life and to lead the White Order in defence of the Human Kingdoms! She’s … so… amazing!”

Frances blinked hard as Martin seemed to look at her with shining eyes. “Can you tell me about how she teaches you? What’s she like? Does she have any favourite books?”

Elizabeth giggled, finding the knight’s enthusiasm completely infectious, contagious. “You sound like you have a bit of a crush on her, Martin,” she teased.

Martin’s head bobbed up and down. “Oh, you bet I do! She’s just so…amazing, fantastic, awesome and—”

“Cool?” Elizabeth finished.

The knight pursed his lips. “Hmm, yes, cool. You must think the same, Frances!”

Frances blinked and thought back to her mentor. She never really thought of her teacher as a ‘cool’ person, just… loving, kind, caring, trustworthy, and the best teacher ever. Actually...

“Yes, she’s really, cool,” said Frances. She smiled brightly at the thought of making Edana laugh when she inevitably relayed this conversation to her by the communication mirror.

“Well, that explains it, you have a really cool mentor.” Elizabeth sighed. “Awww, man, I wish I had a cool mentor to teach me stuff one on one.”

It was then a thought occurred to Frances. “My master has a good friend I know who wants to mentor a hero or heroine. Um, to be honest, her last student was one of our classmates, but perhaps he, she or all previous apprentices ended up quitting. I don’t think she’s bad, though, just demanding. Edana asked her to teach me survival skills.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Who? And who did she teach?”

Frances glanced at Martin, “Lady Igraine of Leipmont. I don’t know who she taught. Does she sound familiar?”

Martin’s eyes widened. “I’d take that offer Elizabeth. Lady Igraine is a really famous ranger, and an amazing warrior, nearly as good as Lady Alice Trollhammer.”

Elizabeth nodded and blinked. “Wait, you’d do that for me, Frances? Just… introduce me to a mentor like that?”

“Um, yes. I mean…” Frances took a deep breath. “That is what friends do right?”

She waited with bated breath, watching Elizabeth stare at her.

Charlie, Alan, her friends were good people, but they had moments where they could be sneaky, and completely selfish. She learned that the hard way. And yet, here was someone whom she thought-and treated as a weirdo, that was willing to help her, no questions asked.

Elizabeth swallowed and wiped her eyes with Frances’s handkerchief feeling so glad, and completely ashamed.

“Frances… thank you,” Elizabeth said, her voice thick with emotion.

Frances just managed to bite back her sigh of relief. “You’re welcome. Martin, I can also introduce you to Edana—”

“Frances, I’d be overjoyed if I met her, but you need not set up an appointment,” said Martin. He raised his hand when Frances tried to protest. “I’m glad you see me as a friend, and I see you as a friend too, but my offer of friendship isn’t reliant on you doing good things for me.”

Frances blinked. “Wait, isn’t that what friendship is? A relationship built on people sharing things and doing favours for one another?” Frances winced. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at making friends, I’m afraid.”

Martin regarded Frances with a decidedly confused look. “That’s a bit too clinical of a description, but while you’re not wrong, true friendship shouldn’t be reliant on that kind of sharing.”

Elizabeth wasn’t confused, she was completely baffled and shocked. “I know you were pretty quiet, but you had a few friends before, right Frances?”

Frances’s voice caught in her throat and she averted her gaze. She didn’t really have a friend. At school, she had people she sometimes talked to. Most of the time, she’d been too afraid that they would see her for the worthless waste-of-space she used to think she was—and sometimes still thought—she had to be. She scrambled for an answer that a normal girl would give, not noticing her two friends wide-eyed looks.

As Elizabeth stared at her new friend, a pang of intense guilt struck her. Frances was the nicest and most thoughtful girl she’d ever met. Sure, she wasn’t the most entertaining, or funny person, but Elizabeth really enjoyed the time she spent with Frances. Thus, Elizabeth couldn’t help but wonder how much fun she would have had, how she could have alleviated Frances’s loneliness, if only she’d actually reached out.

As for Martin, the knight found a chill creeping up his spine. His mother was the Chief Justice of their county’s manorial court, and she had always reminded him that if it seemed odd, it probably was odd. Martin had no doubt Frances was as nice as she appeared to be, but that brought up the question as to why Frances, a girl of fifteen, had not made a single friend. Something wasn’t right and he believed that whatever it was, it was deeply affecting Frances

Shaking his head, Martin took a deep breath. But now was not to time to pry, they were on the road and Frances squirmed at the question.

“Frances, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

Elizabeth glanced at Martin, but then took in Frances’s stricken expression and nodded. “Yeah, you don’t need to answer that.” Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. “I do wish I had got—gotten to know you before we got summoned to Durrannon, though. I mean, you’re a pretty cool person yourself.”

The relief Frances felt at not needing to answer that awkward question was suddenly replaced by the utter shock of the fact that somebody would actually think she was a cool person. Elizabeth thought that she was cool. She pinched her arm. Nope, she wasn’t dreaming.

“Oh… thanks, Elizabeth, and thanks, Martin.” Frances tried to say that as naturally as she could, but she knew her cheeks were burning and her lips were forming a wide grin.

Elizabeth smiled, as did Martin. As the knight turned his eyes back to the road, though, his smile faded.

The trio had been trotting up the valley floor toward Westfall Pass, which was quite wide, as the high mountains framing the entrance to the valley sloped slowly toward the ground. However, the road through Westfall Pass itself was flanked heavily by forests.

“We’re approaching Westfall Pass, we should get ready,” Martin said, hefting his spear up from where he had rested it across his saddle.

Frances breathed in, exhaled, and nodded. She could think about the confusing, and pleasant experience of having actual friends later on, preferably after a long discussion with Edana.

Elizabeth glanced around. “Good idea, um, visor on or off?”

“Visor off, for the moment. Keep vigilant, we don’t know where they might be hiding,” said Martin.

Frances nodded and placed her right hand next to Ivy’s Sting. If all went well, she wouldn’t need it.

But as her mentor said, better to be safe than sorry.