The Brew had been unpleasant, going down. A bit spicy, with a hint of nuts and honey. Mostly, it just tasted like blood. The side-effects it was having weren’t great either. They were back at their house, Frank under the covers of his own bed. Hot and cold waves washed over him. He was sweating one minute and freezing the next.

Gurt had told him he should rest, for about a bell after taking it. Now he knew why. It was unpleasant.

Not painful, not really, just uncomfortable. Not what he had expected. The Empire potions felt like drinking liquid warmth. Energetic heat that rolled down his throat and right into his bones. Filled him up with inner light.

They made Frank feel light, strong, like he could take on the world.

The Confederation Brew was nothing like it. It was like a fever, being sick. Except with no heaving or nausea. Just tingles left in his bones and muscles, after each wave of heat or cold passed. All radiating from his stomach, where it felt like he’d swallowed a magic rock.

The Brew itself was creamy, like pudding. Soft and easy to go down, apart from a somewhat unpleasant taste. Like bitter medicine. But for all that, his Health was climbing.

Health = 12/42

Mana = 3

And it should only take a bell. It was a small price to pay, for several days of recovery.

The Brew shared the limitation of other lesser Heals: only one per day allowed. He could drink a potion, or a Brew, and take priestly healing, but not do both twice. Not in one day, not for basic potions, or Brews. It was one of the things that made priests better than potions, after a fight.

“If you could afford to have one just follow you around.” Priests of Might in the Empire could be hired for that, for the right price.

As another wave of heat washed over him, he asked to distract himself: “Enjoying yourself?”

Frank could endure this in silence, but he didn’t have to. He had nothing to prove to Deli.

“Yes Frank.” Deli replied, her attention on the book in her lap. One of his light stones was wrapped in the shawl she kept around her hair, giving her light to read. He was proud of that one. It was a new permanent stone. A little light, that would never go out, if no one broke it. It shined a cheery red, like a warm ember.

If there was one thing he disliked about wintering here, it was the darkness. The fireplace could and did spill some light in the room, but most rooms were nearly dark, all the time. Every time they got up in the morning, it had been to a pitch black room. The outside wasn’t much better, when it was storming outside.

“Can’t exactly leave a window open either, with the Shades and Bones around.”

“Can you see in the dark?” He asked Deli. He’d been curious for a while. She never tripped on anything in the morning.

“No?” She answered, lowering the book to peer at him. “Is this more curiosity I hear?” She teased.

“Actually, yes. How do you never trip on anything? In the dark?”

She looked at him like he was being silly. “I remember where everything is.” She told him, like it was obvious.

“Really?”

She smiled, pleased. “Of all the things we’ve done, this impresses you?”

“I mean… it seems like a lot of work.”

She giggled. “You find it easier to trip on things?”

“Well, when you put it that way.”

She chuckled, and went back to her book.

…

“Being stuck in bed, with nothing to do, now that's torture.“

It was a joke, but kind of true. Not the bed rest, but all the habits he’d built up: to be active, working all the time. All pulling at him to get up and go do something. Now. They were wrong, in this one case, but still insistent.

“Frank?”

“Yes?”

“Why do I feel like you’re considering doing something stupid?”

“I’m not.”

“Are you sure?”

Frank glanced at her. Her lips were curved up. “Oh, really funny. Pick on the man stuck in bed. That’s mature.”

Deli scrunched up her face, confused: “Why would I want to be mature?”

Another wave of heat went through him, and he threw off the blanket again. That happened a lot, throwing it on or off him.

Deli looked at him for a moment. There was something knowing about her gaze. She asked, softly: “Want me to read to you?”

Frank sighed. He hadn’t meant to inconvenience her. So much of her life was already about him. “You won’t mind?”

“No.” She said wistfully. “It will be good practice for my kids.”

That was sweet. Wait a minute…

“Wait a breath. Are you calling me a child?”

She didn’t answer that, instead starting to read a poem in her clear, musical voice. The amusement in her voice as she did was answer enough.

As entertainment went, it wasn’t bad. “I need to do something for her too. Pay her back for all this. Whatever her debts might say about it. Just need to figure out how to frame it so it doesn’t make the whole thing worse.”

Deli read:

“There once was a hare,

a hare with time to prepare…”

***

It took a while for the Health Brew to work its way through his system. It wasn’t like the potions of the Empire, at all. But as far as he could tell? It was much cheaper and more widely available, with all the monsters prowling these mountains.

Still not actually cheap, mind you. The prices on offer were significant, at least for their current budgets. He was pretty sure Lilijah was selling most of hers. She’d make a nice bit of gold on it. Even after just knowing her for a day, he had a feeling it would all be going right back into hunting equipment.

Health = 18/42

Mana = 4

He’d only recovered 8 points, from the Brew. Frank wasn’t sure if that was the fault of the healing drink, or his own Body being reduced to just two, from five. But the nice thing about it? He could take another tomorrow, and another on Market day. Between those and the Priestly blessing, he should be full recovered. Finally full on Health, after weeks of struggling to recover fully.

Ready for the Challenge.

“What was your wish, last year?” He asked Deli as they popped the roof hatch, and got out into the snows. A waiting Snow Shade tried to hug him, but he stabbed it with his staff.

Deli flushed. “You’ll think me foolish.”

“Maybe. Mine was wishing for magic for a day.”

Deli’s laughter rang out, harsh and echoing.

He tried not to take it personally. It had been a wasted wish. As all were, when someone asked for something beyond the scope of their victory.

“What, didn’t try that fancy when you were little?”

Still feeling embarrassed over it, Frank told her: “I was studying Runes, at the time.” “And I never had Gods just offering me wishes every year. I suppose every kid tries it, long before they reach adulthood. I would have, given the chance.”

Not that they were real wishes, not like in the stories back home. In fairy tales, a Wish was a mighty, powerful thing.

And they were. Life changing.

Kind off.

Deli nodded, and grew pensive. Her axe lashed out and broke another Snow Shade as they headed to the bedding house.

A peasant might wish for coin, and get a single golds, in sixteen silvers. “It’s not like they can actually spend the gold.” Sixteen silver was enough to feed them for almost five months, if they were living near a small town. Frank guessed some Nobles made it a point to make their serfs wish for gold, and collected it as tax.

One could wish for healing, or for the removal of a scar. Fix a small disability, like a lost finger, or a blind eye.

It wasn’t really clear how the weight of wishes was determined, but the general belief in the Empire was that those of higher standing and blood were given more powerful wishes.

Frank suspected it had something to do with their Lifecord, with Abilities. The ones most people didn’t see. The Mystical ones.

Aspects (Limit)

Physical (18)

Mental (18)

Mystical

Agility: 4-2

Body: 3-1 (7/40)

Reaction: 4-1

Strength: 3-1

Instinct: 3 (5/40)

Logic: 5-1

Presence: 4-1

Will: 5

Destiny: 10 (10)

Fortune: 1 (10)

Magic: 0+1 (8)

Soul: (4-1) 2

Gift of Life

Health = 42

Recovery – 3/day

Gift of Heart

Mana = 8

Recovery – 15/day

Gift of Self

Guiding Light

Warm Smoke

Skills (+Applied,-Inactive, Unable,)

Traits, +Skills

Agility = 2

-Basketball 2

+Smooth 2

-Reflex 2

-Deflect 3

-Riding 1

+Carving 2 (8/30)

Instinct = 3

-Empathy 1 (0/20)

-Reflexes 2

+Bargaining 1 (9/20)

-Survival 1 (4/20)

+Channel 2

+Frostfire 1

Destiny = 10

Summoned Hero (Divine Blessing) (159/352 days) – Destiny 4

Scorched (Creational Curse) – Destiny 3 (87%)

Outsider (Invited Invader) – Destiny 2

Foolish beyond Reason (Achievement) (159/352 days) – Destiny 1

Body = 2

-Conditioning 1

+Soldier 1 (0/20)

+Pain Management 1 (11)/20)

Logic = 4

-Ecology 4

+Biology (5) 4

+Science 2 (0/30)

-Mathematics 4

-Tactics 4 (0/50)

-Strategy 2

+Runes (Red Sun) 3

+Runes (Eversnow) 1

Fortune = 1

Reaction = 3

+Awareness 3

+Search 3

-Ignore 2

-Riposte 2

+Mage Staff 1

Presence = 3

+Extrovert 2

+Public relations 2

+Command 3 (12d)

-Pilgrim 1 (4/20)

Magic = 1

Banked Еmbers I (Scorched)

Strength = 2

+Lift 2

Spearman (Red Sun) 2 (0/30)

+Medium Armour 2 (0/30)

Will = 5

+Temptation 4 (3/50)

+Resistance 4

+Principle 1

+Persistence 4

Soul = 2

The Wonder of Magic II

+Pale Gate Greeting I

Frank had gotten no progress out of the Strongarm Burrower fight. Well, no apparent progress.

“I’ve long had a feeling that when it comes to the monthly updates, it’s not like the rest of it. There’s barely a moment of enlightenment. We gather our progress during the month. Then someone from that celestial bureaucracy up there goes through everyone and updates their Lifecords, rewarding those who breached a limit or new Skill tier.”

Because there was no way in any heaven or hell that Lifecords were natural. Letters and numbers didn’t just appear, on their own. Much like the Worldvoice, and the Wizard of Oz, someone was behind the curtain. His bet was on lesser angelic spirits, or maybe people in their version of purgatory.

One of the things people in the Confederacy liked to say and do, was address their Ancestors. Swear by them or ask them for aid. They believed they were watching them.

Frank wasn’t sure how he felt about that. There was something both attractive and horrifying to being able to watch over any of his descendants, after he died. It appealed, in that he wouldn’t be cut off from them entirely. But it might be a different kind of hell, to watch them go through a bad life, or struggle, and be unable to help.

Whatever the case, something was certainly watching and responding to things like Oaths and formal Duel challenges.

“I wished I had the Stamina of Body two for the day.” Deli told him.

Frank dropped the line of thought, wincing. Yeah, he could see why she might wish that. But to experience it, only to go back to Body one after…

“The day after, I decided I could not live like that anymore. That I’d do what it took to get it back.” Deli said, her voice solid, but open, vulnerable.

“My parents didn’t like that.” she went on. “They’d already lost a son to the cold. They didn’t want to lose me too.”

Frank swallowed. Paradoxically, because they were heading in on the surface, they were in private. It wasn’t snowing today, but cold winds still filled the air with flurries of snow. No one was out who didn’t have to be out. Apart from a few scattered guards, watching over the surface with bows ready to string, they were on their own.

“Well, that and the Snow Shades. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” He broke another one. It was hard to take them seriously, to stay alert, when they died so easily. It was strange how a horror like it could get so mundane, with warm tunnels and shuttered houses near at hand.

But that was the trick of it: they didn’t die. Each and every one of them would be right back to making another lump of snow move, in less than an hour.

“Was he…”

“No.” Deli shook her head. “I never knew him. He was four, when he passed. They don’t like to talk about it.”

Frank wouldn’t either. It was one of the parts of this place that was truly a horror. Kids died. All the time. It was normal here. He didn’t ask for any details.

The thing about the wish? It came after. If they won the challenge.

If someone failed? Anything could happen.

It wasn’t fatal, not usually, but instead of a wish, a blessing, people got hurt. From the Challenge itself, usually. A few got Cursed, if they did badly enough. Grew desperate enough to break the rules. And every year, everyone had to face one. Kids were not exempted.

The saving grace was that people could pick the tier of their Challenge, and a zero on it was something a child could overcome. Even a baby, for some.

Some Challenges were fixed. In the Empire, the challenge for a child seeing their first Day of Challenge was crawling. The second was walking. The first seven were all Strength related.

Frank didn’t want to know what Body related ones Confederation kids got. He could ruin another day with that. Tonight, they were celebrating. "And on that subject:"

“Well, you’ve managed it, Deli. Don’t forget that.”

“No way I could.” She told him. While some sadness lingered in her eyes, Deli did cheer up.

“Twenty one days to go, till Body two.” She repeated to herself.

She broke another Snow Shade, swinging with enthusiasm this time. Then got wrapped up in examining her axestaff again. It happened to her, now and then. She’d just hold it and run her hands over it, like she couldn’t quite believe she had one. It was cute.

Where was he? Right, Lifecords.

Everybody got the Physical and Mental columns of their Lifecord. But only Nobles and Heroes got the third one. Or at least, got to see it. Frank was pretty sure of that.

Though that could have more to do with blessed bloodlines, as the Empire had been calling up heroes for a while. Snatching up the ones with good blood to add to their pool of nobles.

Point was, most people couldn’t see the third column. In the Empire, no one had explained any part of any of it. Any Hero who brought it up got mocked or shunned for it, like they were walking around naked in a formal dinner. While commoners and citizens would look at the asker, and politely inform them they were but children’s stories. Fairy tales.

Or something nobles concerned themselves with, not commoners, depending on who was asked. Noble servants usually gave the second answer.

If Mental Abilities were intimate, Mystical ones were private. Secret. End of story, as far as the Empire was concerned. Only reason he’d figured out the nobles all had the same view was because of Destiny.

"It is my Destiny to rule so and so" was a popular refrain among the court swirling around the Academy. There was a lot of sniping and plotting, over such things. And it was the only context in which Destiny was brought up, always tied to ambition, dominion or rule.

They treated it like it was some writ from the Heavens, their divine right to lord over others made manifest.

It might be different here. For one, rather than titles that might as well be Earl, Baron, or Count, the Confederation had Landkarls. It was on the nose.

He’d shied away from asking before, because of how Mystical Abilities were treated back in the Empire. But Frank felt he had a better handle on things now, and it should be safe to ask. At worst, Deli would tell him not to ask. That it was private, or rude.

“Hey Deli?”

“Hm?”

“What makes a Landkarl, a Landkarl?”

She laughed. “I think it’s a little early to be thinking about starting your own town, Frank.”

“Not that. Just, what does it? Do they have to beat up the biggest, meanest warrior around?”

Her head swung left and right. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s out competing a merchant, or out crafting the current leader.”

“Sorry, what?”

She looked at him. “Have I never….huh. You never asked.” She shrugged, entirely at odds with how a noble lady would have reacted.

“A Landcarl is such, for having joined with the spirit of the land.” Deli explained.

“All things have some magic to them: the glaciers, the mountains, even towns.” She told him, spreading her hands around her, gesturing all around them.

“In our lands, that means joining with the town’s sacred trees.” She went on.

“Each one is different. I don’t know how or why,” she hurried to add, which was a shame, “but each town spirit will grow, over time. Grow into wants and needs of their own. It is up to the Landkarl to meet them. In return, the spirit will bless or curse them, their house and servants, or even the town itself.”

“So the Landkarl is the ruler of a town?” Frank asked.

“Sometimes. In my home, we have a Council of elders. The Landkarl has a seat on it, elder or not.”

Frank thought about it. “So how does that work with towns and hamlets that are abandoned during winter?”

“It doesn’t.” Deli told him. “They don’t get one. The dead tear the trees down, if there is no one to defend them.”

Huh. “Well that was easy. Painless.”

“So does the spirit choose the Landkarl, or…?”

Deli blew out a breath. “I don’t know.” She told him, unhappy. “The legends tell it ten different ways, and I’ve never been able to unravel that truth. Some say merchants can bond with the spirits of roads, and Hunters with the very forests and mountains.” She shook her head, frustrated.

“I do know one of the ways was winning a duel, under the eyes of the Gods. The duels can be between warriors, companies, or towns.”

Now that? That sounded like war.

“Does that happen often?” Frank asked, worried.

Deli had to think about it. “What’s often?” She asked back.

That was not the answer he was looking for.

***

The Landkarl talk carried them all the way to the roof hatch leading down into the bedwarmer quarters. It wasn’t quite as bad as he’d feared. Wars between two towns could happen. Full on wars were rare, as only the dead won that. But lesser conflicts did spark, now and again. Over trade routes, taxes, shortages. The same things they did, anywhere. Power, prestige, and pride too.

As they slipped inside and closed the heavy hatch back up after themselves, Frank felt his heart start to pick up.

It was time to do something that some very powerful people might disapprove off. That didn’t stop him when he walked away from the ashes of his last contract, so why would it stop him now?

It did mean they had to be smart about this. Frank left his name on the board next to Quel’s door, hearing her hard at work, inside. He got a bit hard from it himself. Any man would from hearing a prostitute work, hidden just by a single door.

There were two other names before him. One of them was Lilijah.

He sighed.

Gathering his composure, he walked downstairs to the waiting room. Deli peeled off at the door, not wanting to be in there. As she had, last time. “I might need to address that, soon.”

Or he might not. She was a sworn woman. She’d stand watch and help him, whatever her feelings on Katri.

Frank walked in and took a seat. The room was surprisingly empty, but for one warrior drinking fresh snowmelt. So fresh, it still had some snow in it, and so did his moustache. The man nodded at him in greeting.

Frank asked: “Where is everyone?”

“Hunter lass came through, and dragged the Demonspawn back into the pantry. Didn’t like me and my friend looking.” The man shrugged, in good spirits.

“Bragged to all and sundry she and her party nabbed a Strongarm. Looked too fresh faced to me for it, but I saw no reason to object. She had the coin of a fresh catch on her.” he told Frank.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Some have been calling her a little kit, for how long she’s been stalking the hunters. Foolishness, to me. No one that dogged is going to forget a slight.”

“As it happens, we did catch one.” Frank admitted.

“You did?” The man asked him, in mild disbelief. “You’re shovelling snow on me. You’re with her?”

“Not at all. And she’s with me.” Frank told him. Further talk was interrupted by a fairly loud: “Umgh!”

It was somewhat muffled, like it came through a door. Now that he was paying attention, Frank could hear them making out. The house wasn’t that large, he’d just thought it was coming from upstairs, where Quel was working.

But no, it was coming from around the corner of the doorway to the bar.

Frank felt awkward. He did not want to listen in on a party member getting it on. No matter what his libido had to say about it, or Deli’s insistence that parties stuck together.

And that was without getting into the whole “does being cursed compromise judgement, like being drunk or drugged” can of worms he was still juggling in his head.

Katri hadn’t looked like it, but this was a world with magic. He wanted to know, but wasn’t sure how to ask. And Frank sure as hell wasn’t going to interrupt them to do so.

“Like to watch, do you?” The man asked him.

Frank had no idea where that had come from. He asked as much: “What?”

Deli, not even in the room, asked: “He get lost in his head again?”

“Do that a lot, does he?” The warrior asked in a raised voice, ignoring him.

“Only when he’s not training, fighting, carving, magicking. Or fucking.” Deli promptly replied.

“Yes then.” The man concluded, and they both started laughing at him. But at least it got his mind of the soft gasps coming from the pantry.

***

Frank spent most of the time waiting talking to the other warrior about their fight with the Strongarm. They got so into it, Deli came in to spin her own tale.

Lilijah emerged from around the wall separating the kitchen/bar area and the waiting room. Her hair was mused up, and she looked very, very pleased with herself. Her lips were slightly swollen, and her right hand glistening. She brushed it off, against her pants.

The Hunter paused on spotting Frank, but only for a moment. Then she took a seat next to the other patron.

“Frank.” She greeted. Politely, but keeping her distance. “She’ll be a while.” His Hunter said with a self-satisfied smile. Frank could all but see the other man decide to call Katri over, immediately.

He stood up, slipping his chair back under the table.

“I think I’d like some privacy myself.”

“And it’s a perfect excuse.”

He left them in the waiting room, turning left past the separating wall and into the pantry, closing the door behind him. A single candle was lit in there, and in its light he could see everything.

Katri was down on her knees, mopping rag in hand, cleaning up a stain whose origin he didn’t need to guess at. Her skirt was still hitched up to her waist, open lower lips peaking among glistening hairs. Still leaking, a little. The miniskirt and sandals were, again, all she was wearing.

“Give me a breath.” She told him, without looking up.

Mindful of the ears in the other room, he told her: “I might need a few.”

She didn’t react to that much, except to wiggle her ass at him. “Then you’ll need to take it as I am. I need to clean this up. Quel doesn’t like it when I stain her floors.” Katri said, her voice a bit breathless. Still wanton, probably after just peaking.

Frank didn’t take her up on her offer, for all some parts of him wanted it. He’d been with Quel not two days ago. He wasn’t some sex fiend. Instead he got on his knees next to her and softly asked: “Got another mop?”

Katri, even nearly naked, looked at him like he was the one being ridiculous. “My mess, my clean up.” She replied in the same low tone.

“Is it?” He asked.

She glanced at him, and while it was dull with need, there was light in it too. Buried embers of will. She looked better than she had, last time he’d seen her.

“Speak your mind.” She told him. “Meddler.” She added, as if it was a curse.

“I’d like to help.”

She snorted, and sat back on her heels. Katri swirled her rag in the bucket of water, ringing it out after. Through it all, her knees were wide open, the skirt’s edge tantalizing, teasing. Her chest rose and fell freely as she moved, breathed. Nipples ready, waiting. Frank noticed.

But he didn’t let it distract him. Not even when she noticed him noticing and brought one hand up to her breast. Squeezed it, with a seductive smile.

“Want me all for yourself?” Katri asked, leaning in to kiss him.

Frank put his palm on her collarbone. “The opposite.” He told her, voice flat, but still quiet.

He could almost see it in her. How she tweaked her own nipple, almost unconsciously. Arched her back in offer. He waited. Because in her eyes, the need was building again. But it was the only thing there, the embers of will hidden away behind a sweet smile.

The shameful, defeated thing he’d seen there before was missing.

Her arms went to his chest, gentle at first.

“Well that’s a fine wish, if uncommon around here. “

Then she crumped his clothes like her hands were vices and he was reminded Katri had carried all her things alone, on foot. The size of her travel pack was significant and a lot more than he could have marched with.

“Short of having another dick to play with, I don’t see what you’re offering, Frank.” She bit off his name at the end. Almost like she was suggesting it wasn’t his real one.

“Gods be damned Empire plots.”

He knew what a plotter would do. Hint, and tease, string her along. “Yeah, no.“

Frank grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in, whispering in her ear: “I’m burning myself in purging fire for the Day of Challenge. You want in?”

She leaned back, giving him a show all over again, slipping her hands around his neck. Katri bit her lip, hard. Gazing at him in the same need she had, last time he’d visited. She was starting to slowly pant. She wanted him, badly. She wanted everyone.

“Frank, the Kindhearted Fool.” She Named him, and none of the lust assaulting her was in her voice. Yet it was still warm.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, hard nipples rubbing against his shirt. Her face was flushed with arousal, eyes wide, and Frank didn’t have to check to know she was soaked again.

But all of it, all of it, was nothing to the sharp stars born in her eyes, as the embers were given life.

“There is nothing I want more.” Katri the Windblown told him.

***

Frank wasn’t in the pantry long, working out some details with her. Katri came out, not long after him. Licking her lips seductively she went right back to playing Demonspawn. After a few minutes of this, when Deli left? Frank joined her, giving the excuse that: “I’ve had my fun, and there’s always carving to do.”

He just didn’t want to watch Lilijah and Katri interact. It made Lilijah uncomfortable, to be watched by men. But she was deliriously happy to be there, like a poor soul who’d just won the lottery and gone on a shopping spree. Except with sex.

His visit to Quel wasn’t long either. Or very active. He was too wrapped up in getting everything lined up to get distracted now. She was more than happy to solve his biggest issue: how to get Katri away from being a server for a while.

As one of the two owners/proprietors of the bedding house, she could use Katri herself, at least for a bell or two. Shooing everyone out, and getting some privacy wouldn’t be a problem.

“I’ll deal with my partner, get him out of the house for it.” She promised him.

Frank didn’t like the idea of showing more people his Frostfire, not yet, so he’d kept the details vague. Asking only for Katri’s presence for a Challenge he wanted to attempt, and help in smuggling her out. A Challenge that might help with her Curse, for her part in it.

Quel didn’t care much for the details, only that it would get Katri out of her waiting room, and away from her customers. And if it did it permanently, all the better.

She’d shared with him that the house she’d taken over had a tunnel dug in the snow, and iced over, out the back window. One that was used at times, by some customers who didn’t want to be seen visiting her.

It would be their way in and out.

To end the day, Frank took Deli to the actual celebrations: the common room of the caravan barracks, where Brar was waiting for them. Frank had asked Lilijah to wait for him after her session with Quel, and come along with them after.

She’d been hesitant, but agreed to try visiting.

There, they were treated as returning conquerors, with cheers and offers of drinks. While Deli was swallowed by the crowd, and enjoying every moment of it? Frank went over to the back, sitting at a table filled with nothing but cups of milk, with just a hint of honey. The designated watchmen table. Members from each party staying awake, alert, and not getting drunk. Just in case there was a monster attack.

Mauricius was among them, and kicked out the seat for Frank. Frank slumped into it.

“There, there, Frank.” Rio commiserated. “You can drink up tomorrow.”

“You’re right.” Frank agreed, not that was what was bothering him. The reaction of Deathless if his Demonspawn bait suddenly got cured of her Curses and grew a spine again worried him far more. So much so, that he was actually plotting, like he was from the Empire.

Except that he was stealing the woman away to cure her of a Curse, not inflict one.

A short teen came over with a pitcher of warm milk, filling his cup.

For a moment, Frank considered the idea that instead of worrying about all this, he could have dragged Katri up to Quel’s room tonight, and had a lovely, hot, sweaty threesome. One all of them would have enjoyed.

He didn’t linger on it. His vice was always there, like an alcoholic with drinks, or smoker with cigars. A coffee drinker with caffeine.

The urge, the wish came. Lingered for a little while.

He didn’t indulge it. Gave it no space in his mind to latch onto, grow into something more in fantasy or dream.

It passed and he moved on.

Frank raised a cup in toast: “To other people having fun, and being responsible tonight!”

His toast was met with jeers from the table, and laughter from the rest of the room.

At least Deli was having the time of her life. With how she’d lead that monster around by its nose, she’d earned this, and then some.

And Lilijah wasn’t doing badly herself. For all every woman that came near her refused her hints, or just ignored them, she was calmer. Not as aggressive about it, as Frank suspected she would have been a week ago. When he’d met the woman, she’d been strung tight like a violin.

Some of that tension had left her. Not all of it, nowhere near all of it, but some.

For all Frank had his problems with Katri’s situation, wasn’t that the point of sex work? That those who had no one else had someone to turn to, for basic human needs? A professional who wouldn’t mess them up, exploit them?

Or worse, hurt and traumatise them at a vulnerable and intimate moment.

Frank drank his milk, and for all his worries, he smiled. He chatted and joked. It was a good day, and a good night. He couldn’t control the world, the weather, or even this town, but Frank could do his part. Find a monster well suited to his talents and possible party members, pick them out and kill it.

He was really good at that. If nothing else, the Academy made their Heroes exceptional monster hunters. That was rare experience and skill in the Empire. Not Skill, not something any curse could take away from him. He’d earned it, in sweat, pain. Bought it with bruises, and a river of spilled blood.

It might not be the nicest way to help. But every day, he could get up and do his part.

“That’s all any one of us can really do.”

It’s all a culture, a civilisation really was. Tens of thousands, millions of people, living their lives.

Any of that, all of it?

Fit into just one ecosphere, in a much larger and more complex biosphere.

If someone had told him, back when he was a student, that he’d be personally exploring something like this? Frank would have laughed at them.

He wondered sometimes, when it was like this. When he was alone in a crowd, surrounded by strangers having fun.

None of whom had any idea who he really was, or what Earth meant to him.

What was it like, back home? Had WW III started already? He shook his head, trying to shake off the thoughts. They didn’t help anyone, anything.

Frank drank his milk. It helped, a bit. Thinking of home always depressed him.

It was normal, to love his parents, for all they’d done for him. For raising him safe, healthy, and right. Every child would.

It was strange, to hate them, for all they didn’t do. For all the problems their generation put off…until it was too late.

Frank drank his milk. Sitting in a barracks partially buried under snow, surrounded by the dead, and a wilderness filled with roaming monsters. And still he had better odds of living a long, healthy and happy life here. He and any kids he would have.

Better odds, then he had back home.

Frank remembered what it was like, fearing immigrants and climate refugees, the strain they put on everything, when he was younger.

For all the magic, wonder and horror of this new world?

Now he was one.

At least monsters could be fought. “When the planet decides to fuck your whole species, and most of it goes along with it, there isn’t much to do about it.”

Mauricius hit him in the side with an elbow. “What’s got you so down?”

“Thinking of home.” Frank admitted.

Rio looked at him. His face was odd. The man rarely stopped to think, but this time he did. After a moment of consideration, he replied: “Well, that’s bulls shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Fucked up Empire.” Someone at the table said.

“You could say that.” Frank replied.

Another of the men slammed his palms on the table. “Well! To stop this murderous drop into maudlin territory,” he pulled out a deck of cards. “who’s up for a few hands? Bone bits only.”

“Petty gambling.” Not his vice. But if it was just for bits? “Why not.”

“I’ll have one.” Frank asked, and Rio asked for another.

While everyone around them celebrated, they played cards. Even without drinks, it was celebration enough; to trade stories, of battle, or family, in peace and relative safety.

Good food, warm drinks, a roof over their heads, and decent company. All any person actually needed.

***

Later that night, after songs, dancing and drinking, the kids were sent to bed, and more bawdy songs sung. Along with several brawls breaking out, one of which swept up Deli and Brar. Lilijah stayed out of it, scowling at them.

Frank? Frank was at the responsible table, and thus ineligible.

That it kept his Health up was one of the reasons he’d accepted sitting out most of the night. That, and he wasn’t feeling quite up to being his usual self.

The night as a whole? It was alright.

With cards, warm milk and company, it went better than he thought it would. He always started thinking of home as they year ended.

Frank still almost had to carry Deli home on his own. At some point, she’d decided to try some Clearwater, and gotten blackout drunk.

Rio was kind enough to offer them his floor again.

***

The slew of curses Deli unleashed before dawn, when he woke her up for their morning guard shift was impressive. Frank wrote several of them down, chuckling to himself.

Deli tried to bury him in snow when she noticed him doing that. Tried. Between the headache, bleary vision, snow-blind, and the snows themselves?

She skid all over the place, only making him laugh harder. Of course, when he doubled over from it, she caught up to him and threw him into a snowdrift.

Frank felt it was a fair price for the morning’s entertainment.

Lilijah unamused face showing up mind watch was a pleasant surprise.

“What about Brar?” Frank had asked.

“He’s a Shield Guard that took a beating. Probably practicing his Rest.”

The way she’d said that…

“Is that an actual Skill?”

Both Lilijah and Deli scowled, before noticing the other’s reaction. Lilijah let Deli speak:

“Every Shield Guard I’ve spoken to swears by it.” Deli told him.

“And every Hunter knows they’re full of shit.” Lilijah finished.

“So it’s either real, or they all fucking with us?” Frank concluded.

Both women nodded.