Ryan remembered Micah “hugging” a Honey Ant. He had actually held it in a chokehold back then as it struggled to escape, but memories could be fickle things, Ryan knew. Some stayed, some went, some were made to leave. So now, Micah was hugging that ant like Lisa did Sam.

It still wanted out, of course. Even if it weren’t murderous, it didn’t want to be hugged by Micah like a toddler hugged a cat. Its forehead was also softly dented with cracks that spread in all directions, even past the beast’s body and Micah’s face, chipping it into two. Furthest, there was darkness between those cracks, the darkness outside all of Ryan’s paintings. The void of meditation. But the closer he traveled in, yellow light leaked out from a hidden wellspring and fused the glass panes back together again.

As with all of his mimicked Skills, the image on those panes shifted slightly as Micah adjusted his grip or smiled cheekily at having caught the monster. The ant shifted around in a half-hearted attempt to escape. The panes themselves did, too.

Always, black cracks spread inward, separating them. And always, yellow light leaked out as the picture tried to put itself back together.

Just like a Honey Ant.

[Skill - Lesser Vitality obtained!]

Ryan woke up from meditation without opening his eyes. He was, of course, incredibly happy at having gotten a new Skill. He was also a little disappointed that it wasn’t a healing one, but he put both those emotions aside for a moment. He had a question.

“Lisa?”

Papers shifted. They were in her sitting room again, studying at her place on a Sunday as usual. The moment they got there, Lisa had said, “Gimme, gimme,” and Micah had handed her their tests from the weeks before.

Now, almost an hour later, she was still looking them over and admonishing him for mistakes he'd made, or things she thought he could have done better.

Micah was barely listening.

He was shoulder deep in his focus potion by now and studying Ryan’s tests for the entrance exam. After only a day’s break, which Ryan had forced him to take. Micah probably thought studying would give him more levels, and Ryan didn’t mind too much. There was only one week to graduation, four to the first entrance exam, and he was still behind. But Ryan didn’t know if he could keep it up forever. He didn’t want him burning out before they even approached the starting line.

Usually, he tried not to think about things like that at all. Graduation. Application. Going alone. Living through all the emotions involved until they bundled together to stillness. Right now, he was on the “everything’s going to go wrong” stage of that process, so he opened his eyes to distract himself. It always took a few moments for the feelings to go away.

An empty bottle of focus potion still stood on the table. Its seal laid crumbled up beside it like a forgotten candy wrapper and Ryan couldn't help but wonder about it again.

When Lisa had said she had potions to help Micah study, he'd been expecting some kind of tea with loose mental enhancing abilities. They drank some of those during meditation lessons sometimes. They mostly just helped organize the mind. He hadn’t been expecting a proper and glowing “Potion of Lesser Focus” from her. It even had a seal of validity and everything.

He stared at it, then her dubiously. He hadn’t figured her out yet. Lisa. She seemed kind of condescending towards Micah sometimes, which was a little bit understandable, considering their age difference and roles—not that the other boy seemed to notice—but still put a lot of effort into teaching him; told Ryan she was short on money, then bought two focus potions for someone she barely even knew?

How did any of that make sense?

Argh. Girls were weird. Especially ones older than him. And ones younger than him. Basically all girls. Like Lang’s cousin Sol. She’d had a crush on him once before he turned her down. Now, she only crushed him in alleyball, trying to break his bones. Why had she been interested in him in the first place?

“Hm?” Lisa asked.

“...Are you sure only [Enhanced] Stats use mana?”

“Not entirely, why?”

“Because I just got [Lesser Vitality] and it’s yellow.”

“What?”

I did just get a Skill. Ryan thought and tried to focus on that instead. I should be happy. Smile. And don’t scowl.

Don’t scowl. Don’t scowl.

Micah looked up like a groundhog from where he sat in front of the table again. He searched around a bit as his eyes seemed to focus. Then he caught on and beamed at Ryan. “You tried to copy the Honey Ants?”

He scratched the back of his head a little in embarrassment. “Yeah ... Sorry I only got something that can heal myself, though.” What did that say about him?

Micah shook his head but forgot to use words again, so he could only guess what that meant. ‘I don’t mind’?

“You got a Stat from your Path,” Lisa mumbled. “Congratulations, by the way. But it’s yellow?”

“Thanks, and ... yeah.”

“Huh. Maybe if [Enhanced] only describes effect and not source?” she mumbled to herself. “Your [Hot Skin] is supposedly red, too ... Maybe. I don’t— Argh. Let me go fetch something.” She jumped up, almost stumbled over her own leg, and ran up the stairs in a haste Ryan had … never seen from her before. She was acting like Micah did when he figured something out.

A loud bang sounded as she tripped on the stairs.

“I’m okay!”

Ryan looked at Micah, who was still staring at him, then scratched his own eyebrow and followed her.

Why was everyone around him so weird nowadays?

Lisa’s house actually consisted of four smallish buildings that were connected around a yard. Apparently, her room was in the front-most right one. As was a kitchen, some closets, and a sitting room. As he walked up the stairs, Ryan glimpsed a library and another, smaller staircase leading up to an attic.

“Lisa?” he called.

“Huh? Here!” she called back.

He walked down the hall into a room not much bigger than his own. There was a large unorganized bookshelf, a desk with a wall mirror, another, thinner desk right next to it with some books scattered on it—one of them, How to teach like you’re level 40!—and a tiny bed with a nightstand and fire lamp.

Everything was different shades of brown. There weren’t any decorations or toys that Ryan could see. It wasn’t at all what he’d imagined a girl’s room to look like. More like a creaky old room at an inn that hadn’t been renovated yet. The one his dad worked at had one of those.

Lisa was sorting through a box full of papers behind her bed. She’d removed one of the floorboards to reveal a small storage space underneath. Ryan spotted many little holes meant for fingerholds in the boards around him then. That was an interesting way of storing things. What else did she hide in there?

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“School papers. I collected information on various schools when I moved here before I decided on which one to attend.”

“Ah,” Ryan said. “Smart.”

How the hell had she decided on the school they both went to, though? Maybe she couldn’t afford a better one?

She pushed through the papers quickly, like a Registrar, but left small dents in each one that she passed. Now that Ryan noticed, all the of the papers in the box showed signs of rough handling.

“Here!” She pulled out a folder, then stumbled over the box, past Ryan, and back out of the room again, leaving the rest of her things still lying there.

Ryan stared at the little mess for a moment before he walked away. Okay then. Back downstairs, he planted himself behind Micah again and tapped him on the shoulder to make him glance up.

"Before all the nonsense with the Third,” Lisa started, half-reading the file in her hands, “and the war with Elira, and the Church, there was a school for [Fishers] in Lighthouse.”

Lighthouse? Not Hadica?

“A few years ago, the descendants of its founders tried to reopen the school. One of the classes they wanted to offer was meant to take place on the ocean since students attending the class were expected to have the [Waterwalking] Skill, you see?”

Ryan gave her a nod. He was with her this far.

“Back during the school’s golden days, students would apparently spend hours meditating on the waves. There are even tales of hermits and sages spending their whole lives on them, diving for food and using spells to purify water or cook. But this school couldn’t offer that class anymore. Do you want to guess why?”

“They sank,” Micah said.

It was the obvious answer, aside from safety concerns like sharks, deepsea horrors, or drowning.

Lisa pointed at him. “Exactly.”

“What does that mean?” Micah wondered out loud. “The Skill apparently has some kind of limit now?”

“Yeah. One that wasn’t present back then.”

“If your records are true,” Ryan added. “They might have been exaggerated. I like stories as much as the next guy, but you can’t just trust everything you read, you know?”

“But if not,” Micah said as if he hadn’t spoken, “that means the Skill might cost something now, something it didn’t back then.”

“Or the people back then might have been able to pay the cost without troubles,” Lisa added.

“Because they knew something we don’t?”

“Or the cost or Skill itself changed,” Ryan finished for them.

Discovering new and losing old Skills was pretty common, but they themselves changing beyond individuality? Ryan wondered if he could find a lecture or discussion on that if he looked. Maybe he could ask a teacher or find a way to proof-check the records Lisa had?

“Apples, do you know what mana is yet?”

“Huh? Uh, mind essences,” he told her.

“Can you elaborate?”

“Mana consists of the essences that represent the mind,” Micah said, sounding pretty confident of himself. “Perception, emotion, memory, thought, and a form of electricity that stems from our nervous system.”

“Good answer,” Lisa said and Micah grinned for a moment before she went on, “if you want to describe a third of its ingredients. There are two more.”

“Two?” Micah asked, sounding like he had been prepared for one.

“Two—” Lisa started.

“Hold on a second,” Ryan interrupted them. “Lisa, not that I don’t trust you, but … do you have proof for that claim?”

He wouldn’t believe the driving magical force of their nation was made up of five archaically named “essences” just because a sixteen-year-old [Mage] he’d known for a third of a year had told him so.

He still didn’t even have proof for her claim his Skills might use mana. Ryan had gotten himself appraised at school a few days ago. Apparently, he had a capacity of “37ct mana,” which was supposed to be like having thirty-seven candles burning inside of him. His teacher had offered the standard Class spell [Shocking Grasp] in comparison, which apparently cost 16 mana. Although you could lower that number through various means, like simply adjusting the spell script a little. The one she taught in her class already cost two less, she’d said.

A standard Class version of [Fireball] was supposed to cost 32 mana, but it was infinitely more adjustable due to complexity.

Considering that beginning mages had somewhere between twenty and thirty mana, Ryan thought he understood mages a little better now. But it hadn’t helped him with his own questions.

“Micah’s told me about most of the things you’ve been teaching him already,” he went on. “But, honestly? A lot of it sounds like conjecture. Again, not that I think it’s wrong or that I don’t trust you. I’m just saying you should maybe follow the proper methods. For his sake? So ... proof?”

Ryan really didn’t want to be rude about this, but he knew how gullible Micah was. Someone had to look out for him.

Lisa had her mouth half-open and was staring at him. Was she … blushing? Had she not gotten enough sleep again last night?

Ryan looked around, but couldn’t spot Sam anywhere. Where was the little monster anyway?

“I, uhm, I don’t think that I have a way to prove it?” Lisa said sheepishly. “At least, not for others.”

Ryan nodded in understanding. So it was Path knowledge then. “Then maybe you should be more open about that?”

“Right.” Lisa nodded once in determination. She addressed Micah with her teacher's voice again, who still looked a little distracted by the “two” comment. “I agree with the concept that a part of mana stems from the mind. Can you tell me why you thought that?”

“Huh?” Micah looked up. “Uhm, I just … tried to list all the aspects of the mind? My biology textbook also listed reasoning and language as aspects, and I thought those might be true, too, because some animals can apparently speak? But then I thought those might just be forms of thought and memory instead? And Camille said mana is supposed to be tingly, and mana is supposed to be energy, so maybe the nervous system essence could be a part of it?” He pointed two fingertips together in a connecting motion.

“If the concept of ‘truth’ can have an essence all its own, or a specific type of poison like the Cataracts’ can, why not the nervous system? Oh, and you need to ‘taint’ mana for spells and that reminds me of how perception influences essences.”

... So he was throwing information at the wall and hoping it stuck, Ryan summarized. If he had any kind of mage Path, that might have been a valid approach. It was one of the many advantages their people had over others, their ability to teach themselves by simply gathering information. But without one…?

Lisa nodded anyway, ignoring those concerns. “It’s a good start, but there are some things you missed. Mana also flows along the nervous system—any experienced mage can tell you that,” she said, glancing at Ryan, “or you can read it up in a book. It can be controlled by the mind and is good at manipulating energy, information, and connections like brains do—”

“Sorcerers also draw from the strength of their emotions,” Ryan added, to give them some kind of support. “Wizards from experience, and Spellcasters from fixed spell scripts. Those fit loosely into emotion, memory, and thought.”

He didn’t know if there was a mage type that drew strength from perception. And what about languages and reasoning?

“Right.” Lisa nodded at him. “But those can’t be the only components of mana. Why not?” She directed the question at Micah, but Ryan thought about it himself.

Because then—

“Because then everyone would have it,” Micah mirrored his thoughts. “Everyone else in the world, I mean.” He added something Ryan hadn’t known. “Tower essence. That’s the second ingredient, right? It’s what we have but others don’t.”

“Exa—” She glanced at Ryan and rephrased, “I think so, yes.”

“Tower essence?” Ryan asked.

Micah had told him stories about all sorts of essences before. He liked listening to them, but he didn’t think Micah had mentioned that one before. It seemed pretty important to know about, though.

What was the light-made shadow of the Towers like?

“It’s sort of like a silver light that behaves like water,” Micah explained.

So like its color then? That was simple enough. But why water and not stone?

“But instead of actual water,” he went on, “it’s made up of a million eyes, ears, mouths, hands, and noses.”

Ryan stared. What?

“I can only see it at night. Or it only comes out at night. I don’t know. But it flows through the world and watches—uhm, perceives everything with its various senses. People, plants, rocks, animals, even other essences. Everything really. Not all at once—there’s not enough of it for that. But I think it would like to if it could.”

Everything...?

Ryan didn’t know if he should panic or blush. He was trying very hard not to do either and settled for default anger, glancing in the direction of the Tower through the wall. It should just mind its own damn business! Or its essence should. Whatever. Same thing … He was so not going to sleep tonight.

“You’re scowling,” Micah pointed out. “Why?”

“Isn’t it sort of … creepy?” he tried, glancing at Lisa for support. But she seemed just as oblivious as Micah. “That there are a bunch of eyeballs swimming around, watching you sleep at night?”

“Oh, no. It’s not like that,” he said. “Well, not exactly. It's just, the essence reminds me of eyeballs, you know? If I look really close I can glimpse some. Sometimes, it seems like it’s giving the grass high-fives … And it’s not creepy. Not really. It’s just really curious, you know?” He smiled. “It wants to know everything, like me.”

Ryan scooted a little further away then. Micah was creepy sometimes, too. But then Micah frowned, so he scooted back.

“I, uhm, don’t think—” Lisa started, but shook her head. “Nevermind. I don’t think the essence of the Tower is interested in watching people sleep, Ryan.” She said it with a smile.

“Oh, no. It totally does,” Micah said.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“So last ingredient?” Ryan asked to switch topics.

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” Lisa said. “Or at least, not Micah. But it’s not important for this discussion anyway.”

Micah slouched, pouting.

“Why is Tower essence even important for this discussion anyway?” Ryan asked. he thought they were trying to figure out how his Skills worked.

“Because while mana might be good at manipulating energy,” Lisa said, “Tower essence alone is good at manipulating forces.”

“Forces?” Micah asked.

“Things like gravity,” Ryan explained and glanced at Lisa. It was half a question. She nodded. “Again, do you have proof?”

“Not right now. Or at least, not for others. But let’s just assume I’m right for a moment?”

He reluctantly agreed.

“It’s simple, really. There’s a lot of Tower essence near the five cities, so you’ll never run out …” she trailed off meaningfully.

Ah.

“You think Skills used to be fueled by Tower essence,” Micah said. “And now they aren’t anymore?”

“I think [Waterwalking] used to be fueled by Tower essence,” Lisa clarified. “But if it changed, maybe other Skills have changed, too? There could be other factors, of course. There could be a difference between Skills gained from Classes and Pathes, or from individual Class to Class, or simply from individual to individual. Maybe we can’t use Tower essence anymore? Maybe it has to do with level, that the higher level you are the longer you can use Skills? Maybe even the composition of mana itself has even changed. But"—She held up a finger—"It’s important to think about.”

With that Ryan agreed at the very least. But unlike Lisa and Micah, he would just find a book or teacher to ask.

“Hey, that’s something you don’t know,” Micah said cheerily.

Lisa looked down at him. “And?”

“And we can figure it out together.”

“Oh. Uhm … sure?”

Ryan smiled at Micah’s attempts to get along with everyone and thought back to his Skills. He wondered, what was he even making them with? And where?

For a moment, he closed his eyes and stared at it.

[Lesser Vitality]. It was supposed to improve how quickly the body recovered from exertion and wounds. He also had [Lesser Endurance], which some believed improved most other defensive stats. The only things he knew for sure was that it gave [Stamina].

A few more Skills like that, maybe [Constitution] against infections and some good resistances, and Ryan would be the perfect shield … like someone out of a story. Maybe that could be his purpose?

He got up to move his legs around a bit and stretch. Meditating for an hour did horrible things to the body. He’d had to sift through all of his memories of the Honey Ants to find just the right one for what he’d hoped would become a healing Skill. And using the few memories he had of them in combat felt wrong. It wasn't healing.

Ants mending each other also reminded him too much of healing spit, thanks to Micah. Ryan was not going to spit on people’s wounds to heal him. That was just weird. He hadn’t gotten the [Honey Ant Path] either, but he hoped he could still learn to improve that Skill someday.

Maybe he could get something like [Lesser Heal]? He remembered a [White Mage] had used that to heal the first wound he’d ever gotten in the Tower. It would be pretty neat if he got it himself someday.

As he walked around the sitting room, Ryan inspected the wall of accolades he’d noticed before, but never gotten too close to read. He saw a group picture of climbers in front of the Tower and a certificate for Lisa’s aunt. Apparently, she had donated an armor named Marionette to the Hoplites.

He wondered if it was the same armor the Lunaut had used, the Moonstrider. Had Lisa’s aunt donated that relic? Then he spotted the Leaf of Hadica on a bust a few inches over and frowned.

Wait ... what had Lisa said her aunt’s name was again?

“Lisa!” a man’s deep voice called through the house. Not Maverick. It came from the back door, but whoever’s it was, the man made no move to come inside. “We’re back. And we brought your stupid Salamander with us.”

“Oh, Garen’s home,” Lisa said, getting up. “Micah, go ask him if he’ll endorse you.”

Ryan spun around. “You haven’t asked him yet?”

It took Micah a second to get out of his studying trance. Then he simply said, “Oops?” Thankfully, he visibly panicked a moment later and shot up, saying, “What do I do? Do I just ask him? What if he says no?”

Sam ran around the doorway into the room then, his claws tapping against the floor. He headed straight into Lisa’s waiting arms with a crystal in his mouth and wearing a full-body leash, like some people made their dogs wear. To show he was a summon?

“Sam!” Lisa said happily and took the stone from it. “Who’s a good it? Who’s a good it? You are. Yes, you are. What did you bring me? A Tunnel Spider’s crystal? Did they try to web you up? And you’re missing your fire crystal, too. I hoped you used it for something special and didn’t just drop it in a tunnel somewhere.”

“Did you … send him into the Tower with other people?” Ryan asked.

She looked up at him. “Not with other people. On its own.”

That just raised so many more questions, but Micah interrupted them. “A little help, guys?” He looked like he was about to wring his hands.

“Just go ask him,” Lisa said. “Tell him he’ll only have to write his name on a piece of paper and maybe stamp it with his seal. He’s used to that, and lazy, so he’ll probably agree to do it.”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Ryan told him while his own mind wrung its figurative hands. What if the man did say no? “Just be earnest, like you always are.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Alright, then …”

Micah headed out into the hallway.

Ryan walked over the window to watch him as he walked into the yard. Lisa joined him, now hugging Sam. A burly man in about his fifties who looked … awfully familiar stood there along with a dark-skinned girl about Micah’s age. He was telling her something with wild gestures and she was listening raptly, like a child caught up in a story.

Micah tripped over his feet and stumbled up to them, interrupting whatever story that was.

“Ooh,” Lisa whispered. “Anne is there. This is going to be embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you know? Micah has a crush on her.”

Ryan started. “What?!”

She nodded in obvious enjoyment. “He only met her once, but they chatted for a little bit. And when Micah walked off, he looked like he was glowing. You should have been there to see it.”

Micah had a crush on someone? Why hadn’t he told him? Why didn't Ryan know about this?

“Who is she?” he asked.

“Garen’s protégé, Annebeth Heswaren. She’s applying to the Guild’s school along with us.”

“Really?” Ryan asked, glancing at the girl who didn’t look like she could hurt a fly. “Her?”

“She’s a [Paladin] of Truth,” Lisa said.

And Micah has some kind of weird obsession with lies, Ryan remembered.

“Plus, she has [Lesser Might] so she could probably punch her way up to the fourth floor. There’s a reason Garen chose her. Well, actually, she kind of chose him. But that’s a long story.”

Ryan glanced back of the wall of accolades then, a weird feeling in his gut. Heswaren, he remembered. They were one of the richest families here in Hadica. And one of their members was being taught by Lisa’s grandfather?

He walked up to the first certificate he could find and read the name on the paper. It made him feel all sorts of emotions that slowly melted together into stillness. Ryan swallowed a lump to put all of that aside for just a moment. He had a question.

Slowly, he asked again, “Lisa?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your last name?”

He thought he’d heard it before, but he’d never put two and two together. And Micah had said the receptionist who helped him was called Garen. He was Lisa’s grandfather. He was the reason Lisa was even teaching Micah, the person Micah was asking to endorse him for the school they were applying to, the—

“Oh,” Lisa said. She knew that he’d figured it out. “It’s Chandler.”

Lisa Chandler.

Garen Chandler.

The freaking Dragonslayer. The wielder of Tooth of Seven, war hero, even a Northern hero. The living legend.

Okay, now Ryan was panicking. He felt like his legs might melt out from under him and suddenly wished he had Lang’s [Controlled Breathing] Skill, because what he was doing could barely be called breathing.

He was standing in the Dragonslayer’s house, in his sitting room, in front of his wall of donations. He’d meditated on his couch!

This was the greatest day of his life.

And Lisa was his …?

Oh.

“Yep,” Lisa said and sighed. She must have seen it on his face. “That’s why I never tell anyone. Though I suppose this is one of the better reactions...”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, trying to seem calm.

“Just—”

There was a knock on the doorframe.

The Dragonslayer was leaning to peek sideways into the room. He was right there.

“Hey, Lisa,” he said. “I didn’t know you were still teaching the Dead Kid. I thought you were just going to show him the basics and send him on his way?”

“I got … distracted.”

“You okay with me endorsing him?”

Lisa glanced at Ryan for some reason before she sighed and said, “Sure.”

The Dragonslayer frowned softly, looking right at Ryan, and asked, “Who’s this?”

“A friend,” Lisa said.

“Really?” He stepped into the room. “You finally made a friend?”

“Oy! What’s that supposed to mean? I have plenty of friends.”

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

“Anne?”

“Someone your own age.”

“...Mave?”

“He’s more than twice your age.”

Lisa looked stumped and Ryan frowned. He suddenly remembered that every time he’d seen Lisa in the school hallways, when she came to greet him, she had been alone. Did she really not have any friends?

“Aha! Myra!”

“Now you’re just reaching.”

Lisa shook her head. “I heard she wants to become a [Blue Mage].”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Okay, then you have one friend and …” he turned to Ryan, who still stood frozen next to the wall. “This sturdy-looking fellow. Hello, there, kiddo. I’m Garen.” He held out his hand.

Ryan swiped his own off his pants before he shook it. Firm handshake. Look into his eyes. Don’t scream.

“My name is Ryan, sir,” he croaked. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

“Sir. Well, that’s a return to form. You know who I am then?” he said and ran a hand through his receding hair, as if he were flattered. As if Ryan could flatter him. There were songs written about this man. “And here I’d hoped the youngest generation had forgotten. Well, there’s always the next one...”

He let go and Ryan briefly glanced at his own hand. I’m never going to wash it again.

Lisa walked between them and put both hands to Garen’s chest, then started shoving. Surprisingly, the man let her.

“Leave,” she said. “You’re ruining everything, like usual.”

“I just wanted to say hi? How is that ruining things? By the way, how old is he? Hey, kid! How old are you?”

“Fifteen, sir?”

“Oh. An actual friend, then. Bummer. Well, ‘hi’ then.”

What?

“Your ‘hi’ is the reason I don’t have any friends,” Lisa said.

“Pretty sure the reason for that is called racism, young lady.”

“And I’m to blame?”

The two of them disappeared around the corner of the hallway, still arguing, and Ryan was left alone and feeling giddy. He’d met the freaking Dragonslayer! This was every beginning climbers dream-come-true. Oh, but he hadn't gotten his autograph...

After a moment, he was still standing there and his smile was starting to hurt. And after another, he still just … stood there. And he didn’t know what to do. He took a small step over to look out at the yard, where Micah was talking and Anne was chuckling. Had he made a joke?

He strained his ears to catch a hint of Lisa’s conversation and it sounded like she was admonishing her grandfather.

Then he looked around the sitting room and the giddy feeling had vanished. He felt out of place.

Lisa was the Dragonslayer’s granddaughter. She wanted him to be her friend, for some reason. Or had wanted? He didn't know if she still wanted to, now that he knew who she was. He ... also didn’t think she had a crush on him. She was older than him. Girls didn’t have crushes on guys younger than them. And she’d called him “kid” once, but still … her friend. Why him?

And Garen Chandler was endorsing Micah for his application. Of course he would get into the school then, as long as he didn’t totally screw up. Was that good or bad?

And Micah was also apparently having his first crush right now, on a Heswaren and [Paladin] no less.

Dutifully, Ryan was never going to let him live it down.

But still … where did that leave him?

When Lisa came back, he was gathering his things.

“Huh? Are you leaving?” she asked.

“I, uh, forgot that my dad has an evening shift today. I promised him I’d be there in time for an early dinner. Or late lunch, I guess.”

“Oh.”

Ryan shrugged his bag over one shoulder and headed out into the hallway, where he sat down to put on his shoes.

“What about Micah?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt him. Can you tell him why I left? Oh, and tell me all the juicy bits next time we see each other, you know? How it worked out and everything. How badly he embarrassed himself.”

“Sure. Right …” she trailed off. When she spoke again, she had a smile in her voice. “Right. Don’t leave your dad waiting, then. Family is important after all ... Family is above all else.”

“Thanks, Lisa.”

When he opened the door and glanced back at her, he saw it in her face though. She knew he was lying. But it was too late.

Ryan said bye and left.