The golden rays of the afternoon sun filtered gently through the vibrant green canopy as Octavius sprinted toward the Sanctuary. His worn boots pounded into the ground as he moved with superhuman ease. The moment some obstruction caught his vision, he would make a slight correction to his course. He weaved between trees and leapt over fallen logs.

At the faster pace he was moving at, the trip back to the Sanctuary took only a fraction of the time of the first. Soon, he was slowing to a jog as he ran through the border. In the bright sunlight, the guards recognized him, by reputation as least, and let him through without challenge.

Once he was inside of the Sanctuary, he began to walk toward the kitchens. The short trip took him barely half a dozen minutes, and soon enough, the kitchens came into view. They were about as far from a well-furnished modern kitchen that one could get. Octavius supposed that was what made the name stick.

The kitchens were actually row upon row of blazing fires. Civilians who had been tasked with cooking ran back and forth as they filled pots with water, butchered animals, and prepared dishes. At that moment, the kitchens were in a frenzy of activity. Dozens of people dressed and butchered beast after beast from the morning’s battle. Others salted the meat and set thin slices to smoke above the fires. They looked to be preserving as much of the meat as possible.

Octavius turned his head toward the right and caught sight of a dozen more spread out firepits. These fire pits were ringed with logs and rocks to provide people places to sit while they ate. On one of the logs sat an anxious-looking Caster.

He’s certainly early, Octavius thought, but then again, so am I.

He jogged forward until Caster noticed him out of the corner of his eye. The young man scanned his form until his eyes fell upon the book that was tucked underneath Octavius’s arm. The mage exhaled in relief as a weight appeared to be lifted off his shoulders. Octavius held out the book to the young mage with a slight smile.

Caster grinned widely. “You got it!” he exclaimed, “So it was James? What happened to him?”

Octavius nodded. “It was,” he affirmed, “And James is dead. By the time I found him, he had already been killed by some type of beast.”

The younger man nodded thoughtfully. Octavius was almost certain that the young man saw through his rather transparent deception.

“Why do you have the book anyway?” Octavius asked, truly curious, “I would have thought that it would go to people who didn’t already know the spell.”

Caster looked up from where he was examining the tome for damage. “It usually does,” he explained, “But there aren’t any others who haven’t already learned it that have above thirty wisdom. Normally, it would go to those who could have a chance to learn it, but I made a deal with Heikki, the guy who owns it. I get two days to study it in return for sharing everything I learn with him.”

Octavius nodded thoughtfully. “Ok, can I make a deal with you then?” he asked.

The mage looked at him, curious. “Well… I suppose it would depend on the deal.”

“I want the spellbook for tonight, and I’ll help you learn Mana Manipulation to the best of my ability in exchange,” he proposed.

Caster looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll make that deal. How about a half-hour per day of instruction for two weeks?”

Octavius grinned and extended his hand, “Deal.”

The mage hesitated for a moment but handed the spellbook over. “Just be careful with it, alright?”

Octavius looked him in the eye. “I will,” he confirmed, “Remember to meet back here for dinner before the memorial.”

The young man smiled and nodded, “I’ll be there.”

Turning, Octavius opened the book as he walked toward his clearing. He would need to assign a few points to wisdom if he wanted to successfully learn the spell, but he would do that later. For the walk back, he just read the first page. It was very general and gave him a ton of useful information.

“... A spell is merely a shortcut, bypassing the intent required to normally complete even the simplest feats of magic. Spells allow casters to leverage their understanding to weave mana in a way to easily achieve results…”

“... A mage’s class greatly affects the spells they can cast. While a pure mage can cast every spell with relative ease, a wind mage can cast wind spells with extreme ease but will find casting other types of spells difficult…”

“... The most important thing when casting a spell is understanding. One must know how their mana and intent will interact with the world before even attempting a spell…”

“... The different types of spells require different levels of understanding. While pyromancers, also known as fire mages, are known for requiring very little wisdom and understanding to cast spells, they instead require a more refined intent. The amount of wisdom and knowledge required to cast a spell varies with its type and scope. While a fire mage might require twenty wisdom and a few days to learn their first spell, a time mage would require decades of study and a wisdom stat in the hundreds to even attempt the simplest of spells…”

“...Wind mages are right in the middle. Wind magic is not the most complex or advanced magic. It is, however, considered one of the more powerful branches for a beginner to learn. The scope of wind magic is massive. Wind mages are perhaps most known for the spell Flight, which is gained when a wind mage reaches their third class evolution…”

After the first few pages, the tome’s description of the basics of magic ceased and it began an introductory explanation of fluid dynamics. Octavius closed the book. He would have time to study that later, and he was quickly nearing his lodgings.

After hiding the tome within his clearing, he left to do what he had been planning to right after he washed off. He had yet to see Ava after the battle and wanted to find her and confirm her survival. Octavius knew exactly was eleven people in the Sanctuary well enough to even consider them acquaintances, and Ava the first of those he had met.

It took Octavius fifteen minutes to find her. She was sitting beneath a tree and staring blankly into the distance. Her normally vibrant blue eyes were wet and bloodshot. Octavius moved to her side silently and sat beside her.

The sound of him sitting broke her from her stupor, and she blinked rapidly. Octavius merely turned to face the direction she had been staring in. When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Who was it?” he asked gently.

She inhaled sharply through her nose and seemed to collapse in on herself. “Ewan was killed by the Beast Lord’s first spell,” she whispered.

Octavius nodded slowly. “Who was he?”

She shuddered, “He was on my guard team. You met him yesterday; he was the ginger in my party.”

Octavius didn’t know what to do. Comforting crying civilians was not something he usually had to do. So, he remained silent. After a moment, Ava continued to speak.

“I just keep thinking over what happened. I mean, I should have asked for him to be assigned to my unit for the battle. Maybe I could have done something, and he wouldn’t have died! And how he was killed. He was burned alive. I found his burnt body after the battle… his legs were just gone,” she was barely able to choke out the end of the sentence. As soon as she finished speaking, quiet, shuddering sobs came from her, and she curled into the fetal position.

Octavius’s first response was to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, but then his mind flashed to Castle. He remembered what he’d felt when people told him that after Castle’s death. How they assumed that he couldn’t have done anything. But they didn’t know; it wasn’t some freak accident. Castle died because Octavius hadn’t been able to kill a single terrorist. Because of Octavius’s own failure.

Instead, Octavius gently laid his hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok,” he whispered, “It’s going to be ok.”

They sat like that for far longer than Octavius had planned, but Ava needed someone to be around. Eventually, her sobbing quieted into ragged gasps. Octavius scanned her haggard appearance.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispered, “you need some sleep.”

She looked at him, confused, but followed his lead when he stood. He led her to her clearing and held the animal furs aside for her to step through. “The members of the group I was training yesterday and I are going to eat together tonight. If you feel up for it, feel free to come join us.”

She nodded wearily but didn’t verbally respond.

Once she was inside of her clearing, Octavius turned and left toward Robert’s clearing. He would see when the man was available to discuss a plan of action to deal with the thralls.

The trip to Robert’s clearing was short and uneventful. Civilians still walked the streets in a jubilant crowd, but Octavius ignored them for the most part. When he reached Robert’s clearing, he found it largely empty. The only person there was a young teenager.

Maybe an aid of some sort, Octavius guessed.

The boy was short, with black hair and an overly serious expression adorning his face. Octavius approached the boy.

“Do you know where Robert is?” he asked.

The boy looked him over before answering, “No… but I can give him a message for you if you want.”

Octavius sighed, “Ok, tell him I will be here an hour before the memorial to talk about our little grey friends. If he’s not here, I will find him and drag him here myself. Alright?”

The teenager’s eyes had gone wide as the army officer spoke, and nodded slightly before shifting the movement to a horizontal shake of his head. “I mean, I can tell him,” the boy offered, “but I can’t make him show up.”

Octavius nodded, “That would be fine.”

Turning, he returned to his clearing. He would assign his stat points and see if he had enough time to start reading the spellbook before dinner.

Octavius sat cross-legged in his clearing. The regular hustle and bustle that had returned to the Sanctuary since that morning was audible, but he ignored it and pulled up his status window.

Name

Octavius J. Asher

Race

Human (F)

Level

20 - 34398/130000

Class

Spearman

Titles

Forerunner, Titanslayer I, Skill Forger

Health

497/560

Stamina

533/760

Mana

512/520

Strength

43

Dexterity

48

Agility

36

Constitution

38

Vitality

28

Perception

32

Intelligence

26

Wisdom

22

Will

40

Free Points

35

Status Effects

None

Skills

Identify (Lvl 15)

Speech (MAX)

Instant Thrust (Lvl 5)

Whirlwind (Lvl 3)

Spear Fighting Affinity (Lvl 6)

Mana Manipulation (Lvl 2)

He blinked slightly when he read that his mana manipulation had leveled up. It had taken him weeks of practice to gain the skill, and it had leveled up in a week. He closed his eyes and gripped a tendril of mana, intent on learning what a difference of a single level meant.

The strand of pure energy left his core at his direction and flowed throughout his body with an unfamiliar ease. He wouldn’t say that his control over the mana doubled, not even close, but it grew by a noticeable amount. Nodding in satisfaction, he looked over his other skills.

These skills were much more linear in their growth. His spear fighting affinity added another percent of damage dealt for each level it increased. His instant thrust, on the other hand, increased the speed of his attacks when he used the skill by the same margin per skill level gained. Whirlwind was different, but not by much. Instead of levels increasing its damage, it increases the skill’s duration. All in all, the skills’ increased levels would be a boon to his combat capabilities.

Next, he had to consider how he would allocate his free stat points. He definitely wanted to increase his wisdom, but putting the eight points needed to bring its score to thirty was a tough bargain. Agility was another stat that he wanted to increase, along with his vitality. Both were important for his survivability. Perception would be useful in spotting illusioned thralls, but he had already put four points into the stat. As for his offensive capabilities, strength and dexterity were the stats that would be the most useful for him to increase.

In the end, he carefully made his decision and allocated the stat points.

Wisdom +8 : 22 > 30

Agility +9 : 36 > 45

Vitality +6 : 28 > 34

Strength +5 : 43 > 48

Dexterity +2 : 48 > 50

He was half expecting to get a bonus for reaching fifty in a single stat, but no such reward was forthcoming. Standing, he jumped a few times. The increase in the power of his movements was easily noticeable. He leapt into the air and flipped forward, rotating end over end twice before landing. The feeling of his physical stats increasing was incredible.

Gripping his spear, he began to move through his forms, adapting to his drastically increased abilities. His practice continued for an hour until the sun dipped toward the horizon, and it was time to go meet his party at the kitchens. He rolled his neck and took a deep swig of water from an animal skin canteen. While he still had much to do before the night was out, the day had been rather successful so far.

Octavius sat in front of a roaring fire. The rough-hewn log below him supported his relaxed posture. The sky was illuminated a deep red by the setting sun. Across from Octavius sat Bill, who was eating slowly.

The entire party had gathered around the campfire. Even Marcus and Leo had arrived at Finn’s invitation. The nine of them sat around the roaring fire as Caster expounded on his attempts to manipulate mana with no success. After the mage’s lecture died off, they sat in an uncomfortable silence. Finn, who had been uncharacteristically silent up until that moment, was the one to break it.

“Hey, Captain,” he said, and Octavius looked up to meet his eyes, “Thank you for saving me back there. I mean, I thought I was a goner.”

Octavius nodded slowly, “That’s what parties are for. We have each others’ backs.”

The younger man’s uncharacteristically somber mood failed to lighten. “I’m from Boston, you know? Me, my older brother, and my mom,” he said quietly, “Dad wasn’t around much when I was little. Mom and Dean took care of me. Mom worked two jobs just to feed us, and Dean dropped out of school to work. They both spent all their money on me; I was the kid of the family, so they tried to get me to succeed.”

The group looked at him in shock. It was incredibly rare for people to share personal details of their lives before the Sanctuary. Even asking someone about it was considered rude. The young man plowed on, not appearing to notice that they were listening to his every word.

“When I almost died today, it made me realize that I might not make it out of here,” he whispered, “I just want my family to know, right? That I did the right thing, I died protecting people.”

Now his eyes lifted from the fire to stare at Octavius, “If any of us are going to make it out of here, it’ll be you, Captain. If I don’t make it, tell my family, ok?”

Octavius nodded solemnly, “I will. Who are they?”

Finn smiled gratefully. “My mom’s Diana. She’s about five-eleven and has the same hair as me.” when he talked about his family, his smile grew, “Dean’s three years older than me. We look exactly the same, except he had a nasty scar on his chin.”

Octavius committed the descriptions to memory. The group settled into silence once more, but this time it was quickly broken by Marcus, who was sitting to Finn’s right.

“I’ve got my little girl waiting for me back on Earth,” he said with a smile, “She’s turning four in two weeks. Cassy’s the most adorable little thing you’ve ever seen. She looks like a mini version of her mom.”

None of the group mentioned the possibility that Marcus’s daughter was already dead. The man already knew, and them mentioning it wouldn’t help him. The eyes of the party unconsciously fell upon Bill, who was to Marcus’s right.

“What?” the old man asked brusquely, scanning their expectant faces, “Fine! My wife passed two years ago, but I’ve got four grandkids who will be a damned handful if they get superpowers.”

They nodded, and Finn’s ever-present smile returned. Next up was Leo, who merely shook his head.

“I suppose my parents and my uncle are the only people waiting for me back home,” he said, “I was an only child, and the family is small. Probably even smaller now…”

Expressions all around the circle fell at the reminder of their loved one’s mortality. Jean was up next, but she crossed her arms and glared at them.

“What about you, Captain?” Marcus asked, “Any little army rangers back home?”

Octavius shook his head and considered his words carefully. “Nah, I don’t suppose I have many people at all worried about me back on Earth,” he said. He recalled a worn photograph of a man in desert camouflage smiling at the camera, “My dad died just after I was born. After that, my mom went full control freak. She cared, but a bit too much. Planned out my entire life. Eventually, some things happened and I ended up joining the army. Haven’t really spoken to her since.”

It was enough information that they would be satisfied, but not enough to reveal anything specific. The somber mood pressed down on them as the next person in the circle, Caster, explained his relatively normal life. He’d been pulled straight out of college and into the Tutorial. Toby explained how he had a girlfriend and three younger siblings that he would find once the tutorial was over.

Raj was up next. The man was silent as always. He never seemed to enter conversations or do anything that would draw the others’ attention. Apparently, Raj was from a small Indian town that none of them had ever heard of. He was married with two kids, who were both still young.

After the circle was completed, they moved on to less heavy topics. Finn told stories of his brother Dean and their hijinks together while the rest of the group listened and laughed along. It seemed as if barely any time had passed, but all too soon they finished eating. Octavius stood and nodded to them.

“I’ll see you all at the memorial tonight,” he said, “I have to go speak to Robert.”