Someone poked me in the cheek. “Stop pretending like you’re dying,” Kerra said.

I cracked one bleary eye. She was kneeling beside me, her armor scuffed, though otherwise she didn’t look much worse for the wear. Even two shotgun slugs to the chest weren’t enough to slow her down for long. Impressive.

“I think you broke half of my ribs and turned my sternum into sawdust,” I grunted.

“We need to work on your Verve then,” she said, laying both hands against my chest. “That was a love tap.”

“Then it’s true what they say,” I replied, “love hurts. Like a goddamned artillery round to the face.”

She snorted softly. Golden light bled from between her fingers and seeped down through my armor and into my body. The effect was immediate. And painful. Really, fucking painful. Bones shifted, twisted, and realigned beneath my skin, which was exactly as fun as it sounded. I could feel a shard of rib pull free from my left lung and air rush back in as my organs shivered and knit themselves together. She was using some type of healing ability on me and clearly, it had been designed by a cosmic sadist who hated people and enjoyed tearing the legs off of bugs just for the sheer joy of it.

That was the only possible explanation.

Once my organs and bones finished playing musical chairs inside my chest cavity, sweet, delicious relief washed through my body like a balm and I shot up with a gasp. Sweet baby Jesus but I felt good. Not only had my wounds healed, but the soreness in my muscles was gone and even the exhaustion from the day had packed its bags and hit the road.

She stood and offered me a hand, which I gladly accepted.

“Good first effort,” Niels boomed as he tromped over, “I can honestly say I have never seen a fighting style quite so… Unconventional.”

“Unconventional?” Kerra said flatly, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “That is a polite way to say that you have a broken build. You do realize you’re a Vigil of Justice, do you not?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Because during our battle you used Kinetic Blast, Warded Shield, Spectral Roots, and Cunning Glamor of all things.” She stuck up finger after finger as she listed off my skills. “Not one of those abilities come from the Ward of Justice. In fact, I’m not sure I saw you employ even a single ability that does come from the Ward of Justice.”

“First off,” I said, raising my hands to stop the onslaught, “let me just set the record straight—I was about to wreck you with Rend and Crippling Strike. Second, I don’t see what the big deal is.” I shrugged. “I think I managed to do pretty good, all things considered, and I can always switch things up depending on what the job is. I ended up using a bunch of Valor-oriented skills when I tangled with the Hexblight back in Ironmoor—Spiked Shell, Matchless Endurance, Mantle of Scales—but I usually Respec as soon as I figure out what I’m dealing with.

“Right now, I’m running what I call my general load Jack of All Traits Load Out, but I can change that if you want to go for round two. Now that I’ve seen you fight up close and personal, I would probably lean more toward ranged offense. Go with Overcharge, Maximum Penetration, Guided Shot, and then throw in some nasty wrath spells. Arctic Spike won’t get through that armor of yours, but I bet Unbound Flame would cook you alive like a lobster. I’d probably also toss in Storm Caller for good measure since I bet all that metal conducts electricity like no one’s business.”

Kerra and Niels had both fallen silent and I could see the confused looks passing between them. I’d gleaned from Arturo that being able to Respec abilities was fairly uncommon among Vigils, but not this uncommon. Kerra was looking at me like I’d just grown a dick from my forehead. Admittedly, what Arturo didn’t know about Vigils could fill a fucking barn, mostly because they were a bunch of secretive sons a bitches.

“Perhaps you should sit down,” Niels said kindly, motioning to a stone bench nearby as though I’d just suffered a serious head injury. “I’ll get you some water. You just sit and relax. I’ll send a runner to fetch another healer to come and take a look at you.”

“Why?” I asked. “I feel fine. Fucking awesome, actually.”

Kerra and Niels sharded another uncertain glance.

“Then explain yourself,” Kerra said, openly studying me, “because absolutely nothing you just said makes any sense. It was the ravings of a madman. A Vigil can’t change their skills any more than a fish can grow wings or sprout feathers. That’s just… Well, it's not how any of this works. Unlocking a new ability opens an ascension node along your meridians. When a Vigil channels Arcana or Stamina through those specific nodes, they produce the tangible spell or ability effect. Opening a node is extremely painful and once done, it cannot be undone. It simply isn’t possible.”

“Yeah, trust me, I know exactly how painful opening nodes are, and locking them is about ten times worse.” I grimaced as I thought of the crippling, gut-wrenching pain that I experienced every single time—it was like having a piece of my soul cauterized over and over again. “I’ll admit, it’s about as much fun as having my ribs caved in by your warhammer but believe you me it is definitely possible. The Threads of Fate Boon allows me to reclaim my spent Ward Points once every twelve hours.” I paused when the utter lack of confusion didn’t disappear from their faces. “Am I missing something here?” I asked slowly.

Kerra and Niels shared a long, guarded look.

“What you’re describing…” Kerra said after a beat. “It shouldn’t be possible. It flies in the face of everything I know about Vigils. I’ve never even heard of the Threads of Fate Boon. Niels?” She asked, looking at the other man.

He grimaced and shook his head. Then, “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said, “which Ward does this Threads of Fate Boon come from?”

“Truth,” I answered. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as though I’d just found myself wading into a pit of quicksand. “Arturo said that not every Vigil had the same skills.”

“That’s true, but all of us have the same Boons,” Kerra replied. “They are the gifts, bestowed upon us by Raguel, and act as the foundation upon which all else is built.”

A lance of pain shot through the back of my head and a brief, hazy, half-remembered conversation skipped across my mind like a rock over the surface of a placid lake.

“When you enter your new life, you will be granted access to many powerful spells and abilities, which you will be able to unlock over time. But these boons we grant are the foundation upon which all else is built. Arcane Insight gives you the ability to interface with the Ascendant System, and all that it entails, while Diamond Body will allow you to survive the many horrendous physical challenges that will surely face you in the coming days and months.

“We five are bound by pacts older than time to grant only a single boon apiece, yet there are so many to choose from. For the first time in living memory, I am going to let you select which boon you would like to receive from me. Some of these boons are never granted because they are too dangerous, others because they are useless. Choose as you will, knowing that whatever decision you make will have eternal consequences…”

As quickly as the memory resurface, it vanished again.

“If you don’t have Threads of Fate,” I asked, shaking my head free of the sudden pain, “what Boon do you have?”

She shared another reserved look with Niels.

“Hey, come on now,” I pressed, “I showed you mine, it’s only fair you return the favor.”

“I don’t see the harm,” Neils replied with a shrug. “He is one of us, so there is no point in keeping it from him.”

“Fine,” Kerra grumbled, though she looked far more shaken than I’d ever seen her before. “The True Alignment Boon,” she said begrudgingly. “For every skill I choose that is in alignment with my true nature, I gain an additional Ward Point to spend however I please. It also reduces Arcana and Stamina cost when using skills that conform to my true alignment. The same is true for Niels, for Kol, for Telent. For all of us.

“Vigils are meant to operate in teams, and True Alignment helps reinforce that notion. I’m not sure why Raguel would bestow such a unique gift upon you.” She paused, staring at me thoughtfully as she tapped at her bottom lip. “Best if we keep this revelation between us for the time being. This is something best left for the wisdom of the Custodians, I suspect. I’ll be sure to inform them straight away, but in the meantime, tell no one else.”

“Hey, I know how OpSec works. I’ll keep my trap shut, Scout’s Honor,” I said. “Can I ask how I did otherwise?”

Niels seemed to visibly relax now that we were back on familiar terrain once more. “The fact that you survived and even managed to hit her is quite impressive,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “She is a full class more advanced than you are and has considerable experience under her belt, yet it wasn’t the massacre I was initially expecting. Well done!”

“Thank you,” I said, offering Kerra a toothy smile.

“I always believe in offering positive praise first,” Niels replied, “but I will say you are also, without a doubt one of the worst melee weapon fighters I have ever seen. You lack any semblance of a coherent style, your footwork was terrible, your swings wild and reckless.” He looked at me with a mixture of concern and pity. “I mean this with deepest respect, Inkarnate, but I’ve seen unskilled farmers with better fundamentals. I am truly shocked that you have survived as long as you have, especially given the caliber of Mortka you have battled since arriving in our lands.”

“Huh, I feel like that was way meaner than the nice stuff you said,” I replied.

“I believe honest, unflinching evaluation is the only way to push ourselves to achieve what we are truly capable of,” he said, smiling as though he hadn’t just charbroiled me. “But do not worry, honored Inkarnate, although you are a bit rough around the edges, your raw potential is obvious for all to see. If anyone can bring out that potential to fruition and hone your skills until they are sharper than Mortka forged steel, it is Justiciar Kerra. There is much work to be done yet, but we are well-matched to the task. I will personally start with weapons training tomorrow, bright and early.”

He offered me another friendly smile and a brief bow, which I readily returned.

“Come on,” Kerra said, mopping a sheen of sweat from her forehead with a linen cloth. “I need to talk to the Custodians, but I owe you a more thorough tour of the Citadel first.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on a heel and swept out of the training yard, cloak flapping behind her. She didn’t even look back to see if I was following.