Ryan grew up a lot after getting his Path. Or maybe he was just frustrated more often. His parents enrolled him in a not too distant school. There were closer ones in Westhill, of course, but they were part of the local community and the local community ... wasn’t too fond of the local Tower.

They also sat him down and told him what the teachers had told them. There were recorded instances of the [Mimic Beast] Skill, but their information was part of the registry of the Climber Guild. That meant it was private information. Their best bet if they wanted him to further his Path was for him to emulate them.

On the other hand, there was no known record of the Exemplarism Path. There were, however, hundreds of records of unique Paths, so they told them not to worry too much about it, and that Ryan would understand in time if he explored it.

Still, Ryan worried. Especially so on his first day of school.

The first thing he learned from his new instructor, Mr. Gardener, was how to meditate. Ryan picked it up pretty quickly and spent many hours adding other birds to his slice of life painting in his mind, and learning their names and sounds. It was comfortable. He added them as additional circles or boxes that branched off from the sparrows. It was done haphazardly, but it looked right to him so he was fine with it.

What he wasn’t fine with was that he was only able to imitate birds. After the first few weeks of having the Skill, Ryan's hesitation about it wore off. It wouldn't make him mimic animals' appearance or behavior, just their Skills. That meant it had so many possibilities. But for some reason, he couldn't make it work. [Mimic Beast] was supposed to let him copy even monsters. How was he stuck with birds?

His mom, at least, abducted all the neighbors’ animals and set them down in front of Ryan with a grin. He thanked her and laughed, but told her he liked watching them better. She’d always just shrug and go off to find her next helpless victim.

Cats, Dogs, Moles, Mice, Rats, Ferrets, mounts in nearby stables, even fish, no matter the animal, Ryan tried copying them all and failed every time. His mom began walking around with bandaged hands because of the bite marks. He was beginning to grow restless. Every time he had lessons with Mr. Gardener, he asked about students entering the Tower. It was basically a requirement at the school, but not necessarily for early birds (no pun intended). The Early Birds were what they called children who got their Paths or Classes at a younger age and attended lectures in the afternoon after classroom and chores were done. Eventually, Ryan convinced his instructor to train him in fighting, with a loose promise that if he did well enough he would take him on one expedition to try and copy a monster.

“One,” the man stressed. Ryan nodded eagerly.

He did very well.

Four weeks later, he obtained the [Fighter] Class at the age of thirteen. He was hailed a prodigy and, for a little bit, Ryan also felt like one. One of the teachers actually dragged him to the Guild to have him proofed. Ryan got the feeling that the teacher didn’t like him very much and thought he might be lying to get into the Tower quicker.

A cheerful receptionist named Linda was happy to help, and then Ryan saw his Paths and Classes all neatly listed on a piece of paper for the first time in his life.

[Exemplarism Path]

[Skills: Mimic Beast, Bird Singing]

[Fighter Level 1]

[Skill: Lesser Strength]

He finally had proof that [Exemplarism Path] existed! And he was a [Fighter]. As soon as the teacher let him go, Ryan took the piece of paper and ran to show his parents. His dad arm-wrestled him when he saw [Lesser Strength]. Ryan lost. He chirped a promise of revenge.

On the Friday of that weekend, he entered the Tower for the first time in his life, joining a group of students three years his senior that Mr. Gardener was leading in for the one of their first times apparently. Ryan was equipped with a sword and a shield but was told to use them only in defense.

“Today we’re doing escort training. Some rich snobs like to visit the Tower from time to time, to see the sights, enjoy the view or watch the fights up close and gritty, and you will have to babysit them along the way. Today, Mr. Payne is your rich snob.” All eyes turned on him. Ryan stared them down.

“If anything happens to him, it’s your asses on the line. Even if he does something stupid, and I can guarantee you he and any of his rich snob friends undoubtedly will, you’ll have to answer for it.”

“Where are we headed?” one of the students asked.

Gardener pointed at him and touched his own nose.

“We’ll keep it nice and easy for today,” he said. “The Salamanders.”

All of the students groaned. Ryan was confused, but soon enough he shared the sentiment. For he walked around a corner and stepped on one. It was hot. It bit him. His leg grew numb. It was not a good day.

Gardener yelled at the students for missing it, but it wasn’t really their fault. Ryan hadn’t seen the damned beast either. The thing about the Salamanders was that they weren’t particularly sneaky. Most of them just stuck to walls and lazed around, licking their eyeballs until you got too close. Some of them even scampered off if they saw the group of seven marching down their tunnel. But to make up for that, they were really hard to spot. Their molten-covered skin blended in with the crystal cavern somewhat. Unless they moved and their skin flared up, they were just bumps in the road.

Only at the end of the expedition was Ryan allowed to fight one on his own, and only after he had pestered Gardener all day about it and the man had given him a much too long explanation on how to fight.

He won, easily, and collected his first monster crystal. It was tiny and red and he gave it to his mom as a present. She seemed happy enough, but Ryan knew she didn’t like him going into the Tower, so he gave her the play-by-play to reassure her. He left out the bit about the Salamander biting him. One of the students had quickly healed the wound with a spell, after all, and it would only serve to worry her. Ryan just said it gave him a hot foot instead. Overall, he made the beasts seem much cuter than they were.

Talking about them all evening, watching others fight them all day, fighting one on his own, Ryan dreamt about them at night. He saw their giant amphibian eyes spotting an endless void like town squares and a sea of burning scales between. Somehow, scales and skin were two different pictures, overlapping perfectly. As if the scales were a cloak and not truly part of them, as if they were just the brothers and sisters of frogs inside …

He woke up with a shout, drenched in sweat in his tiny bed. All Ryan could think about was that announcement echoing through his mind, red hot, just like the beasts it belonged to.

[Salamander Path discovered!]

[Skill - Hot Skin obtained!]

His shout hadn’t woken his parents, thankfully. Ryan climbed out his window and ran across the city in his pajamas, headed for Mr. Gardener’s house. He banged on the door and shouted until the man slammed it open.

“What?!” he yelled. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until the morning, boy?

Ryan told him. The man frowned. They went to consult the teacher that had spoken to their parents the first time, waking him in the middle of the night as well. He grumpily told them that it was normal and slammed the door in their faces.

Normal? How could it be normal? Ryan thought and bit his tongue all day the next morning until his Saturday classes arrived and he stormed up to the teacher’s office and begged for an explanation.

Skills he could understand ... but a whole Path?

“It’s a branching Path,” his teacher said. “It’s still part of your main Path, or rather your [Mimic Beast] skill. Everyone has them. Mages branch off into different magic types. Fighters branch off into different fighting styles. How has nobody explained this to you yet?”

“But … it’s a monster Path?” Ryan asked.

“And? Your Skill is [Mimic Beast]. Skills can develop branches all on their own. Don’t fuss about it. And now kindly get out of my office, Mr. Payne.”

Ryan did so in a daze. He told his parents. He told his other teachers. He told Gardener again, even though the man already knew. They all agreed that it was best if he went into the Salamander’s floor more often to further that branch. Soon after, and many Salamander bites later, Ryan wondered if his limbs would stay numb forever. He really hated the damned things.

When he had the chance to calm down and stare at the half-mural, half-stained glass, half-oil painting (wasn’t that too many halves?) image that was his [Hot Skin] Skill, he accepted that it might be normal. But he also accepted that it was ridiculously useless. He was a [Fighter]. Why did his Path only give him crappy Skills? First [Bird Singing] and now this!

He chirped irately and Gardener noticed.

“Spit it out,” the older man said, digging his ear.

“[Hot Skin] is stupid,” Ryan grumbled.

“Ha! That’s it?” Ryan flushed when the older man laughed at him. “Get back to training!”

“But it is!” Ryan insisted. How was having hot skin going to help him in a fight? Was he supposed to discomfort his opponents until they surrender?

“Listen, Ryan,” his instructor said. “Never underestimate the value of a utility or support Skill. Imagine you have to fight on the snow floors one day, or you have travel somewhere in the winter. The Skill would be invaluable in those situations. You will appreci— Ah, no. I doubt you would appreciate it then, but any sane man would.”

“Plus,” he added and nudged Ryan like a gossiping kid. “I bet it’ll drive the ladies crazy someday, eh? Wink, wink.”

Ryan flushed even deeper and shuffled away.

“I’m, uh, going to practice my forms, then. Over there. Far away from here.”

“You know I’m right!” Gardener called out after him. He considered for a moment and had a thought. “I should ask Linda out.”

He set off to do that, right then in that instant, leaving the students alone. No one noticed until the class was almost over, at which point they all bailed.