David leaned back with a sigh after he finished breakfast and spoke with his wife about what Micah would call work stuff; what shifts he would have this week, whom he would be working with, what time he would be home.

Neolle had her hands on her stomach and and smiled a bit as she tilted her head towards him. She told him about how she wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow herself, but that it would only be for a few months anyway.

David rolled his eyes and snorted in support of something they both knew about, but Micah didn’t.

Ryan finished eating his third helping of breakfast and looked around like a lost pet. He had switched between being overly casual and indecisive about whether or not he should stare at Micah all morning.

And Micah just sat there, hands next to his plate, glancing at them all in turn, and wasn’t quite sure what to do. He took one look at the empty dishes and found an escape plan.

“Oh, you don’t have to do the dishes, Micah,” Noelle told him as he began clearing off the table. “I’ll be here all day, so I can do it.”

Wait, did that mean Micah had crashed into her day off? Washing the dishes was the least he could do to make it up to her. And smile. He couldn’t forget to smile.

“It’s no problem. I want to do it,” he said as he piled everything up on the sink. He spotted the brush on a hook over the sink, but not the soap anywhere. Maybe under the sink, then?

He went for the rest of the dishes first.

“You don’t have to feel forced to be polite,” she told him as she got up and put her own plate next to the rest. “Just act like Ryan. Ah, no. Ryan is too stiff, too. Hm, act like that one kid does. Ryan’s other friend. Uhm, Finn! That’s who.”

Micah was beginning to suspect which of his two parents Ryan got his poor people memory from.

“Finn is—” Ryan started, but couldn’t finish the sentence without lying.

“I’m not being polite,” Micah said. “I really do want to.”

David snorted in his seat. “Yeah, right. No one wants to do the dishes, kiddo.”

"I have a cleaning Skill now, so I do,” Micah explained and opened the cupboard under the sink to look for soap. Ah, there it was. It was even the same kind as what they used … at home …

“You have a cleaning Skill?” Ryan asked him.

Micah nodded and smiled as he looked back. “[Winter Cleaning]. I got it from my warrior Path. I’m not entirely sure what it does yet though, so I want to experiment. So you see, ma’am, by letting me do the dishes, you are actually helping me further my Path.”

Noelle wiped away a fake tear and said, “That’s so beautiful.”

“And I’m sure you’ll also want to sweep the floors, the street, clean up the backyard, dust, do the laundry, bring out the trash, and clean the bathroom to experiment, too, right?” David asked him.

“Dad.”

“Uhm,” Micah started, a little daunted. “I can do some of those things, sir. But I still have to leave for work later. So, uh, I could do the rest after I get back?”

David grinned. “Relax, I was just joking.”

“Work?” Ryan and his mother asked at the same time.

“Jinxed,” she called it, but he ignored her.

“You’re still going to work?”

“Of course,” Micah said as he turned the faucet on to a slow stream and got to scrubbing.

After a moment, Ryan stepped up next to him, casual again, and held a towel at ready. “I’ll man the drying,” he said.

Micah put on a smile on and handed him the first plate.

“But still, a second Skill from your Path,” he said. “That’s good, right? It proves you’re not stuck.”

“Right. I’m not stuck.”

Not on his warrior Path, at least. Micah knew he had slacked off on training for Skills from it, but seeing how he got one from cleaning, he was quickly reconsidering that indecision. If a little bit of training every day would get him a Skill eventually, it would be worth it.

Plus, he wanted to keep up with Ryan.

“I, uh, about work,” Ryan mumbled. “I actually made plans to go study with Lang for his entrance exam today. But that was before, y’know? I’ll just have to go cancel real quick and then I can come back and hang out.”

Micah needed a moment to catch on and quickly protested, “What? No! Don’t. I’ll just be … scrubbing baths all noon. You’d be sitting around, bored on your own for hours. Or Ed will cheat you out of your money at cards again. Go study with Lang.”

“Are you sure?”

“What this about a son of mine losing at cards?” David asked, but his wife shushed him.

“Yeah. It’ll, uhm, give me time to think,” Micah said. “Plus, we’ll have lots of time to hang out afterward, right?”

“Oh. Right.”

Awkward. So awkward. Micah just kept on washing dishes until eventually, Ryan spoke again, “About your siblings …”

Then he froze up.

“They were climbers.”

Of course, they had been.

Ryan started telling him a story and Micah listened, standing still with a brush and plate in hand. For the first few minutes, at least. Then he went back to scrubbing while Ryan dried and told him about how Maya and Aaron had been climbers … and about how his parents had known and accepted it, even gone in after them to look for them when they had gone missing.

But they couldn’t accept him?

“You alright?” Ryan asked him near the end of it.

Micah realized he’d run out of dishes but left the water running. He quickly turned it off and looked up with a smile. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just thinking, is all.”

“Don’t think too hard about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

After sorting the dishes back into their cupboards, they headed upstairs and Micah tried to figure out how to balance his dirty clothes and his clean ones in his backpack. Where did Ryan put his…? Oh, he had a hamper in the corner of the hall.

Micah put it in his backpack. When they got too much, he’d go wash them himself someplace else. He handed Ryan the apron, not knowing what else to do with it and headed downstairs to put on his shoes.

Ryan’s parents quickly shooed them out of the house, telling them to have fun and not get into any trouble. Or not too much trouble. At the very least, not to lose any fights they got themselves into.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to come with?” Ryan asked him when they got to the street of the bathhouse.

“I’m sure,” Micah told him and gave him an awkward fistbump for once. “Till later, then.”

“Later, then.”

When he was finally out of sight, Micah let his smile drop with a sigh. He shambled over to the bathhouse, finally able to think without having to worry how it would show on his face. And he confronted a simple truth: He had run away from home.

That thought haunted him while he walked past an empty counter where someone should have been collecting admittance fees but wasn't. It haunted him while switched out of his shoes that Ryan had brought for him yesterday for his work sandals—he really was thoughtful, wasn’t he?—then picked them up to bring them along. He couldn’t leave them out front after all. What if his parents came by and saw?

Micah had run away from home and apparently, that ran in the family.

He knew his mother had— Well, she hadn’t run away from home, but she’d grown up in a caravan and decided to stay in Hadica to attend school when she was a young woman, against her family’s wishes. And few years after, she had met his father and gotten married, and then her mother—Micah’s grandmother—had come to stay with them, much to his father’s dismay, until she moved out in a nearby apartment. And Maya and Aaron had come along and they …

His sister and brother had both been climbers.

Micah walked down the hall, quietly peeking into every room he passed for signs of Prisha. Maybe she was out today or was sleeping in? He headed for his favorite supply closet near the back.

One his aunts peered at him in concern. Two of his cousins froze where they were headed his way as well, but they just looked curious. Word had spread already, then. At least, they were nice enough not to whisper while he could still hear them.

Micah ducked into the closet, put his shoes in the corner, and started stacking things into an empty bucket. Soap, brushes, rags, wax. The usual suspects.

His eldest two siblings had been climbers, and they ... had gotten lost or went on an expedition? Did they really not find an exit for six months? Micah had a hard time believing that. Sure, exits were supposed to become sparser further in, so maybe in the Fields or the Gardens, but anywhere else…?

But his parents had been climbers for those months, too, Ryan had told him. In order to save their children, who might not have even needed saving.

Five out of six. Everyone but Prisha. Micah guessed he came from a family of climbers.

He wondered, if his parents had known from the start that he’d been lost in the Tower, would they have come looking for him? Would they have found him? Instead, they had searching fields and forest outside the city.

His mother was a [Ranger], his father a [Warrior], his eldest sister a [Gourmet]—she apparently ate monsters to get stronger?—and his elder brother was a [Quartermaster]. That was also sort-of a combat Class, Micah knew. At least, since Aaron’s caravan master was a retired [Marine] from Lighthouse, so he had a little more militaristic approach to the Class.

But they were all climbers. All except for Prisha. He guessed it really did run in the family.

And then his siblings had … well, not run away. They had been old enough to live on their own back then. But they had left and never looked back. Four out of six, Micah came from a family of—

“Micah,” Neil called, stumbling up to him as he stepped out of the supply closet. He looked a little disheveled himself, and tired. He hadn’t had much time to celebrate during the summer festival, Micah knew, so he had done that yesterday. Did he have a hangover? Micah wondered what a hangover felt like.

“You’re here. I thought you, uh ... Prisha said you wouldn’t be working here anymore?”

Micah paused and tried not to frown up at the tall man. Not just because of the statement, but because he hadn’t seen Prisha yet. Not that he had called out for her, but … he had peeked.

“Why wouldn’t I be working anymore?” he asked. “I have work to do. Who else would do it?”

“I asked two of your cousins to fill in for you in the meantime, but I guess if you’re doing it now …”

He trailed off and Micah suddenly understood why his cousins had looked at him. They had only been wondering if they had to work or not. Well, they didn’t. Good for them. And if they weren’t whispering about him after all, good for him, too.

“But you know your parents paid you, right?” Neil asked him.

They hadn’t, actually. Not for a while now … six weeks? Seven? Ever since Micah got into that fight with Ryan. Still, he shook his head as he tried to inch past the man and said, “I know.”

He didn’t care.

“I just want to work right now,” he said honestly. “I have little better to do.”

Micah felt uncomfortable practicing alchemy at Ryan’s house, out of an irrational fear he would somehow harm the baby through the divide of a glass bottle, two walls, and a set of stairs.

And Ryan was busy at Lang’s, so Micah couldn’t train with him yet or head into the Tower. Micah wasn’t even sure he would have to head into the Tower again to prepare for the exam on Saturday since he might have failed the second one, but he would do it anyway.

But that left training on his own, preparing otherwise—like working on his alchemy recipes or meditating—or working. And right now, Micah would rather do that. It was the easiest. It didn’t require him to put his mind to things. Plus, he was interested in learning more about [Winter Cleaning].

The few chores he'd done at Ryan’s house had already confirmed his suspicions, it had little to do with day-to-day maintenance. It was more about long-term cleaning. Like when you went on a trip and left your house alone ... or when you left your old room to rot and never looked back.

He wondered if his siblings had similar Skills.

“Is, uh, Ryan not here today?” Neil asked and looked around a bit, as if he should have been able to find him.

Micah frowned. Why did everyone always assume Ryan was somewhere nearby? Sure, he was dependable, but he wasn’t here today.

“No,” he told the man. “He’s busy.”

“But you’re still staying at his place, right?” Neil asked him, a little worry in his voice.

Micah nodded. “Of course.”

“Oh, good. Good.” Neil nodded along a little and then said nothing.

“Uhm …” Micah glanced past him down the hall. “Can I work now, sir?”

“Oh, no. Not just yet.” He shook his head and gave him a look. “Your sister and I want to speak to you.”

“Oh.”

That said it all.

Neil led the way and Micah followed, a bucket full of cleaning supplies in hand. They walked into a private sitting room and Prisha jumped up from where she sat on the couch to hug him like water into a sponge.

Micah almost dropped the bucket right then.

“Hrnsis,” he mumbled instead, “lemio. Icantbreathe.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She stepped back and brushed his hair, held his face as if to make sure everything was still on him. “I’m just happy to see you. Sit?”

Micah sat and she talked. It was a brief conversation, full of awkward pauses and half-glances. Micah stared at his bucket half the time to avoid their intent gazes, but if he did it for too long, they’d ask him to look at them, so he spared them the effort after the second time.

Prisha asked him to explain what was going on his life right now, where he was staying, how the Paynes were, what Ryan had told him about their siblings, and even stuff like what level he was and which Paths he had.

Micah told her about the school, wanting to become a climber, and that Ryan’s parents were nice, but that it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. They were too nice and Micah didn’t want to be a burden on them for too long. Nor did he want to rely on Prisha, but he didn’t say that.

If he moved into a dorm, he wouldn’t have to do either.

“So you really want to go to that school?” Prisha asked him for the fourth time at the end of it.

“Yes, sis,” Micah sighed.

She nodded once. “Good, then you’ll stop working.” When he looked up, she added with a finger up, “At least, for the rest of the week. There’s going to be a last entrance exam, right? On Saturday? So you’ll need time to prepare for it.”

She seemed pretty confident, even though Micah had told her about the written exam.

“And if he doesn’t make it in?” Neil asked her, echoing his own thoughts.

She gave him a look like the answer was obvious.

Micah wanted to shrug and wait for them to offer. Because they surely would offer, whether they actually wanted to or not. But he had to own up to his actions. This was his plea to make.

“If I don’t,” he started slowly, trying not to fidget. “I would go back to classroom for another year. I think I have the money for a year of tuition. I’m not sure, but I could earn more. I’d apply somewhere as an Early Bird, and either try again for a different school next year or find an early apprenticeship. But until then, uhm, could I stay here with you, please? I don’t want to be a burden on Ryan and his parents, no matter what they say.”

They looked at him with blank expressions and he quickly added, “I wouldn’t take up much space, I promise! And I would continue to work whenever I have the time. On the weekends or in the evening, however it works out.”

Surprisingly, they both smiled at him softly.

“Of course, you could stay here, little brother,” Prisha told him.

“Of course,” Neil echoed her and scratched his leg a little. “And on the topic of working, your sister and I talked it over and actually—” He pulled something out of his pocket then. A small coin purse. “We decided to pay you for all the work you’ve done in the last month and a half.”

He stacked three gold pennies on the table.

Micah stared at the money for a second, then up, and said, “No.”

“Micah—” Prisha started, but he interrupted her.

“I know how much the bathhouse was struggling two years ago. I know you guys still have debts. I’m not stupid.”

“This might seem like a lot of money to you, kid,” Neil told him. “But it won’t harm us. Really.”

“But that’s”—Micah started and quickly did the math in his head—”almost eleven times what my allowance would have been!”

“It’s what we would have paid a worker who put in all the hours that you did,” Prisha said calmly. “Take the money, little brother. You worked for it, so you deserve it. Plus, you know what I want you to do with it.”

Neil frowned at the two of them, but Micah nodded in understanding.

“Offer it to the Payne’s,” he explained. “Or insist on them taking some of it, at least. You know they won’t accept either.”

“Still, try,” she implored him. “And should they refuse, you know you’ll need the money anyway. Schools don’t come cheap, Micah. Even if you did manage to get a scholarship, there’s books, and dorm fees, and food, clothes, shoes … and equipment for, you know, the Tower? You’ll need it.”

Micah hated that she was right and he feared the reality of it. But slowly, he pocketed the money anyway and hoped he could repay her someday. Starting with today, actually, since he still had work to do.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Prisha asked him when he stood up. “Go drag Ryan from whichever bath he’s lounging in—for free, I might add—and prepare. Go into the Tower or spar, or do whatever else climbers do to prepare.”

“Ryan’s busy,” Micah told her. “He isn’t here today.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise Micah almost groaned. Really. Why did everyone always assume Ryan and he were glued to one another? They didn’t spend that much time together … right?

Micah frowned for a bit, but quickly shook the thought away. So what if they spent a lot of time together? It wasn’t like they’d gotten sick of one another yet.

“And anyway, I want to work one last time … and steal one of your bathtubs into storage for [Winter Cleaning].”

Neil frowned at that, but Prisha grinned.

“Alright, then. Have fun.”

“But take one of the ones we have extra of,” Neil told him. “One of the white ones. Oh, and take one that has a lot of scratches. Like the one in room 2B. I swear some regular bathes with his belt still on, damn it.”

“Will do, Neil,” Micah told him with a smile.

He mirrored it. “Keep up the good work then.”

“Yes, sir.”

Micah headed out with his bucket and promptly dropped his smile. When he found the first bathtub and began to clean it, he thought about having run away from home and didn’t know how to feel.

For some reason, he longed to go to David again to ask the man for more advice. He knew where the inn he worked at was, after all. Maybe he could tell Micah some stories about his old teammates?

Another part of him wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep, but he didn’t even have a bed anymore. That reminded him, he would have to buy a bedroll after work. And a toothbrush. He’d forgotten to pack his.

Another part of him wished he could go home. Would his parents even come looking for him?

Instead of either of those things, Micah scrubbed to take his mind off things. And afterward, he decided, he should probably write a letter.

A few miles away in the Northern bazaar, Ryan and Lang were not, in fact, studying. They were window shopping with Finn. In this case, the windows were flat panes of glass set into wooden vitrines, which revealed an assortment of magical items.

These were the type of items that couldn’t be sold immediately for a variety of reasons, because they were weak, or superfluous, or had too niche effects. And yet, they were too expensive for beginning climbers to buy without a second thought.

Basically, it was overpriced junk.

But below the fourth floor, even junk could be a beginner’s treasure. And normal citizens often found uses for items like these, if only as a means for entertainment. Citizens that didn’t live in Westhill, that was.

That explained why Lang and Finn were ogling the description cards of every single item they saw like they were minor miracles. At least, they had the presence of mind to not look too interested while the stallkeepers were around. Ryan just hoped they wouldn’t be ripped off when he wasn’t looking.

And when they weren’t looking, he eyed a small display at another stall filled with accessories, like leather necklaces and wristbands with sharp teeth or metal tags hanging from them.

“Hey, Ryan!” Lang called and he immediately stepped aside to fiddle with the backpacks hanging there. Even though Ryan didn’t need a new backpack. He’d already ordered one.

“Hm? What?”

“I just …” Lang stepped up with a brief frown, but quickly recovered, “Finn found something he likes and is asking for input.”

“I’m no expert on magical items, Lang.”

“I know, I know, but you could still give him some friendly pointers, right? Grumpy pointers will also do.”

“I guess.”

He moved to walk away, but Lang stopped him with an arm against his shoulder. “Wait, you, uh, you dropped one of the bracelets.”

“What?”

Ryan spun around and searched the ground for what he had dropped. He didn’t want anyone to think he had stolen or broken anything. But—there was nothing there. Oh. He’d fallen for a bluff.

“If you wanna buy an accessory, you can buy an accessory, Ryan.”

“I thought they were magic. They’re not. And you can’t wear unnecessary stuff as a climber.”

Lang fiddled with the display himself. “Yeah, but what about for outside the Tower?”

“I’m not going to wear a wristband, Lang,” Ryan told him and looked down the street for Finn. Sure enough, he was smiling as he haggled with a matron-looking stallkeeper over her counter. Not good. “That’d be stupid.”

“Why?” Lang asked anyway. “Older guys wear stuff like this all the time. Girls, uh, people think it looks cool.”

Ryan walked off to save Finn from spending all his money on junk.

Behind him, Lang said, “Well, I’m buying one. Oh, or two.” He caught the attention of the stallkeeper. “I’ll have these two bracelets, please, madam.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t see.

“Dude,” Finn said and dragged him over as soon as he got close. The matron was pulling the drawer halfway out to fetch something from inside. “Look, they got lighters that run on magic. And they’re almost as cheap as actual lighters.”

Ryan took one look at the lighters and saw the issue. “They run on fire crystals, not magic.”

“Yeah. From the first floor. So those are, like, dirt cheap, right?”

“Wait, didn’t Micah break the first floor or something?” Lang asked, fitting on the bracelets as he walked up.

“Break? How can—” Finn broke off and chuckled a little. “Lang, why are you wearing a pink bracelet? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Ryan glanced back, saw the bracelet in question, and gave Lang an annoyed look that said, Seriously?

But Lang just shrugged, so he distracted himself with warning Finn, “Yeah, Micah broke the first floor, so fire crystals aren’t dirt cheap anymore. Plus, filling these types lighters is a hassle because you got to break down the crystals until they fit or buy ones that have been specifically cut. It’s a waste of time.”

“It’s got a heart dangling from it,” Finn pointed out, still stuck on that.

Lang smiled. “So what if it’s got a heart? If it does, it should show it.”

Ryan gave them both the stink eye. And the stallkeeper gave Ryan the stink eye, so he asked her, “How long would a cut crystal last? In minutes or amount of times you can spark a flame?”

She deflected, “They can burn regular fire potion, too. You just need to fill them with a few soaked cotton balls.”

Huh. That was surprising. Ryan switched tactics. “And what about the material? What if the wheel or the flint breaks? Can they be replaced? How long will the enchantment last either way? Will it stop working if it gets wet?”

Finn shook his head at Lang’s antics and looked back, but by then the stallkeeper was smiling anyway, so she didn’t need to put on a poker face. She seemed amused by his questions.

“The flint and wheel can be repaired by [Enchanters] and people who know what they’re doing. They have to be made from Tower materials, though, and that’ll be pricey. You’d be better off just buying another lighter. Now, this wasn’t made by a famous shop, but it is from the Tower so it’s good quality. Better than those mass-produced ones coming up from Lighthouse, anyway. These will last you a few years, like all low quality magical items do. If it lasts you one or three depends on how you treat it and how often you use it. And of course, just like regular lighters, you’ll have to dry it after it gets wet.”

Ryan scowled. She had him on all accounts but his first one raised. And buying the lighter now, when it was cheaper because of the collapsed Salamander’s Den, might actually be wise. He was just worried about being ripped off.

“If you wanna buy it, buy it. It’s flexible enough. But ask more questions, like about its history. Get a receipt if you can, so you know what you’re paying for first,” he mumbled to Finn.

The guy gave him a look that said, I’m not an idiot, and went back to haggling.

“You going to buy one?” Lang asked him, looking at the variety on display. “Must come in handy for a climber.”

Ryan glanced down at the lighters through the glass. Some of them were red. Entirely red. And some looked like they were made of smooth stone instead of metal. One was layered with tiny Salamander scales and had fangs that seemed impractical, but actually looked pretty cool.

Their description cards listed neat effects, like some that were always warm, some that could be lit with mana, and one that said its flame would always point straight away, so you could hold it upside-down to light stuff.

Still, he had to shake his head.

“Hey, look, this one even says it’s enchanted with sparks.”

That made Ryan inch closer to see the one Lang was pointing at; that ridiculous pink wristband with a heart still dangling from his arm.

“True [Sparks]?”

Ryan checked, but the card just said that the user could create sparks by snapping his fingers with his other hand. That meant it wasn’t the cantrip. If it were, the stallkeeper would have advertised it.

“There’s a difference?” Lang asked him.

“Yeah. That just lets you ignite a bit of mana to make some sparks. It’s not the actual cantrip you’d get from a Class. Those use mana differently and are often the basis for learning more advanced spells.”

“Oh. But if you aren’t a spellcaster, it’s still good, right? And I bet true cantrips are more expensive.”

Ryan shrugged. “Sure.”

“So buy one.”

Again, Ryan shook his head. “Can’t.”

“Why not? Still too expensive?”

“No, because of Micah.”

That made Lang frown. “What about Micah?”

Didn’t he know?

“He’s afraid of fire.”

“What?”

Finn seemed to have heard, too, because he gave them with a perplexed look and listened with half an ear as the stallkeeper went to fetch something. Probably a receipt or fuel to demonstrate.

“How am I just now hearing about this?” Lang asked him.

Ryan scowled. “You don’t just go around talking about other people’s hang-ups either, do you?”

“Of course, not,” Lang insisted with sudden fervor. “I wouldn’t do that, Ryan. You know that, right?”

Ryan ignored him.

“So why’s Flower Boy afraid of fire?” Finn asked.

“I think he got caught up in an explosion in the Tower. Now, he won’t go near the stuff without extra layers on him.”

“Oh, shit. I had no idea.”

“Sucks for you,” Finn added in agreement.

“Right! Don’t you have that [Salamander Path]?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Isn’t it, like, a fire Path or something?”

“Yeah. And?”

“Oh,” Lang repeated. “Yeah, that sucks. So, uh, I take it you aren’t begging your instructor to take you to the fourth floor anymore to learn how to breathe fire?”

“Nope.”

“Wait, you thought you could learn how to breathe fire?” Finn asked him. “Awesome, dude. You should do it anyway and we could put on a show during festivals. We’d rake in so much cash.”

Ryan was getting tired of this conversation, so he walked off to look at another stall while Finn made his purchase. Some of the loot was interesting, but he was looking for something specific.

Micah forgot to make light potions half the time they went into the Tower and Lisa didn’t even come with them the other half—she had summer break now, too. What did she do with all her time besides be weird about Sam?

But fire wasn’t an option, so Ryan needed something else for a light source. He searched the description cards, but of course, most of this stuff was junk. Ryan wasn’t just going to buy the next-best object he could find. He wanted something that would last and be cheaper in the long run.

Lang followed him a little too closely and whispered, “So is Micah actually afraid of showing skin?”

Ryan frowned at him. “What?”

“Like … does he have burn marks on his legs or something?”

Oh. He was talking about that time they went swimming. Ryan shook his head. “No. His arm is a little messed up and he has those scars all over from the wolves, but he’s not afraid of showing those.”

Micah wasn’t very bashful, Ryan had learned.

Lang looked relieved. “Oh. Good. I was worried there. Cause that would have been a shitty to do back then, y’know? But you’re still going to climbing together?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Great. Right. Uh, awesome. So you’re just going to mimic other monsters then? It still feels weird saying that.”

“I’m working on some stuff,” Ryan said honestly. “Not sure if it’ll work out.”

“That makes a [Fighter] and an [Alchemist]?” Finn asked them as he walked up with his new toy. He flicked it open and sparked it at the same time, showing a small flame, before shutting the lid again. Over and over, grinning. The stallkeeper must have sold him fuel as well. “You still need a [Mage] and, uh, a [Scout]? How many people are even in a climbing team?”

“Depends on the team,” Ryan said. “What you intend to do, what Skills you have covered. But we already have a [Mage]. Or rather, a [Summoner]. Lisa. She’s a friend from school.”

“Lisa, eh?” Finn asked. “You should introduce her sometime.”

Ryan briefly imagined Finn trying to seduce the Dragonslayer’s granddaughter and held back a chuckle. When Finn gave him a pissed look, he just shook his head and mumbled, “She’s out of your league, man.”

“That makes three,” Lang said as they began a slow walk along the stalls. Ryan kept an eye on the description cards of the loot while they talked. “Do you know any others already?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I guess there’s Anna,” Ryan mumbled. “She’s a [Paladin].”

“Two girls, Ryan? Seriously? How do you know them or do they just throw themselves at you?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “She’s Micah’s age. He has a crush on her.”

The others stopped walking.

“What?” Lang asked.

“I said, he has a crush on her.”

Ryan spotted a ring with an interesting description about limited [Darkvision] and ignored the looks the other two were giving each other and him. After reading it twice, he moved on though. He couldn’t afford it. At least, not yet. It was too expensive for something that wouldn’t even help the entire team and probably a rip-off anyway.

[Darkvision], here? Yeah, right.

Eventually, Finn started playing with his lighter again and Lang asked, “But you are still going climbing together?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh. Good. But, uh, four people isn’t enough, you know? I bet you’ll need a fifth. You’re bound to meet a bunch of new people at that school, right?”

“Will I meet new people at a new school?” Ryan asked him dryly, but with a small smile. And an even smaller bit of hope. Maybe he would? He spotted another ring whose description said it glowed in the dark, but not much else. Probably not worth giving up gloves or wearing a necklace for. But maybe he could fasten it someplace else? Mm ... maybe not.

Lang still followed after him. “Have you talked to Darren lately?”

Now, Ryan frowned. “No, what about him?”

“I hear he’s also an [Alchemist] and [Apprentice]. Level one on both. He found a master in Westhill.”

Who? Ryan wondered.

“Seriously?” Finn asked. “Everyone’s getting their Classes, man. I feel left out. What’s it even like to get a level? Just like a Skill or what?”

“You still don’t have yours?”

“No. I’m taking a year off to do Chores. Hopefully, that’ll give me something. But as soon as I do, you can bet on me overtaking both of you.”

Ryan snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Lang grinned as well. “I’m level three. Preparing for the entrance exam is giving me levels like crazy.”

“One level isn’t leveling like crazy.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

"Yeah. It is."

They started arguing about Paths and levels, and Ryan smiled a little. This. This was what he’d missed. Not Lang bugging him like always. Just being stupid. Finn regretting that he had spent so much on the lighter already when he saw other stuff he wanted to buy. Lang not buying anything because his aunt would murder him if he did. Ryan dismissing everything as junk, even though he would happily buy it all if he could. Them all squabbling about anything and everything else.

It took his mind off things.

Slowly, they even forgot about why they had come here—Ryan had mentioned that he needed to buy a magic item soon, and Lang had gladly tossed aside his boring learning material to force him to lead them here.

Now, they just walked around and bantered while looking at Tower loot like a side attraction.

Eventually, Ryan told the others about how Micah was now sleeping on his floor. Finn told him about how Mandy had broken up with him … again. This time, because she was going to school and he wasn’t.

They eventually reached the end of the bazaar, having walked past dozens of stalls filled with items, and realized their mistake.

“Oops?” Ryan mumbled.

He would have to go back to Westhill soon. He didn’t have time to search the stalls again or haggle. And he had also wanted to keep an eye out for anything he could buy for his parents. But of course, a magic item wasn’t going to cut it. Ryan had another idea for a present, but he didn’t know if Micah would be willing to hand over his Salamander Chest.

Well, he still had a few months before he would have to worry about that. For now, he’d head back home and—

“Hey, let’s go in here,” Lang interrupted his thoughts, pointing at a shop at the corner of the street.

A loot shop, based on the sign over the door. It showed a wheel with only two spokes crossed, surrounded by another half-circle made of outward-pointing lines. The lower half of the plus was intersected with a shorter horizontal line that didn’t reach the ring around it.

It was supposed to represent a ring or shield, sword, and wand all at the same time. The lines around it, the glow of magic. There were variations on it, but it was an old sign for a magic item shop. And old meant traditional, and thus fancy.

“We can’t go in there,” Ryan said. “They’ll rob us blind.”

“Oh, c’mon. Just a peek?” Lang asked. “A peek can’t hurt.”

“... Fine. But straighten your clothes and comb your hair a little. Don’t look too interested in anything, don’t ask too many questions, back straight, shoulders back. Look composed. Proper shopkeepers can sense weakness like bloodhounds.”

“I’m out,” Finn told them. “No way I’ll be a goody-two-shoes. Can’t buy anything anyway, so I’ll wait outside.” He flicked his lighter open again and fumbled as he tried to do a spin.

Lang finished straightening out his clothes a little, nodded at Ryan, and he carefully opened the door, painfully aware that he had too much money on him right now.

A bell rang then, high and brief. Aside from it and the gentle voice of the clerk behind the counter greeting them, it was quiet inside the shop. Calm. They nodded at her and stepped inside with slow steps.

Its space was filled with proper glass vitrines and tables, all sure to be enchanted by Skill or magic. And they held suits of armor, shields, swords, and magic items on cushions spaced out in groups, perfectly polished, with name cards, price tags, and brief lines of information. Some even had plaques.

Ryan saw all that, even the glowing items, and ignored it when he spotted the small display standing on the counter, filled with accessories that hung from hooks.

That ridiculous pink wristband still dangled from Lang’s arm because he had forgotten to take it off, and Ryan couldn’t help but ask, “Excuse me, ma’am. Are any of these enchanted with light spells?”

“It suits you,” Micah said with a smile, glancing at where Ryan sat. Glancing too, as he did, at the enchanted band on his right wrist.

His new roommate—at least, until Thursday, Micah had asked him—let his bedroll unfurl and roll down to his feet, then threw it on the ground next to Ryan’s bed. Gone was almost half the space in his small room. Not that he minded.

“How so?” Ryan asked, trying not to frown. Did Micah mean, uh, aesthetically?

He looked at the flat wristband again and guessed it looked kind of cool. On its own, it looked like a thousand tiny threads of a strange, stretchy material glued together rather than woven, and dyed in different colors. Most were light grey. Some blue, orange, pink, yellow, green. Together, they created an image akin to a soap bubble.

But when it touched his skin, its colors switched to true iridescence. It looked almost liquid then. And it glowed.

Ryan wasn’t really used to spending a lot of money. He hadn’t really ever bought anything expensive before. Everything he’d earned from climbing had gone in part to his tuitions and in part into his personal savings. Sure, he got a little bit of allowance every now and then, but just to buy lunch around school. So he’d never really touched his savings.

Well, now he had. And now … they were gone. Practically gone. He had a few pennies left.

And in exchange—

He stared at the wristband and wondered if it really had been worth it. It was one of four things he had paid for recently and surprisingly, it was the second most expensive of them all. That was because it was enchanted with a true cantrip, [Dancing Lights], and had two other magical properties, its material and glow.

But Ryan had wanted it when he saw it, and Lang had agreed that it looked cool on him, though he hadn’t believed him at the time. They needed another light source and he needed a way to get used to his own mana, so it was a great solution … right?

Plus, it was high quality. Its passive glow enchantment was supposed to have a life expectancy of fifty thousand hours of total use. Wear and tear would bring it down eventually, the vendor had assured him, and it could be damaged. But unless he threw it into a fire or tried to cut it intentionally, it would last him years.

In the daylight, its glow was nothing more than a slight sheen that shifted. Ryan imagined that must be what Micah’s essences looked like to him. In the dark, that light deepened into something almost liquid. It was a little brighter than a candle.

Apparently, it drew on his ambient mana to keep the effect going, like a cantrip would. According to the clerk, it could last at least forty minutes before he ran out. Then he would only have to take ten minutes rest at most before he could repeat its duration.

But once he learned how to push mana into it, he could extend that duration or manipulate the light effect in other ways. If he learned how. Either way, it hadn’t stopped glowing yet. Finn and Lang had tried wearing it for a bit on their way back, too.

And as soon as Ryan figured out how to put mana into it, he would also be able to activate its enchantment, too, to throw around lights. That was, again, if he ever figured out how.

A mana ring would have been easier, but Ryan had no use for those because he didn’t know any spells. And though he had read that book of Micah’s three times by now, he hadn’t gotten the Path either. But mana rings wanted to be filled. This thing? It was stubborn.

“See?” Micah said when he repeated his words back to him. “It’s stubborn, just like you. It suits you.”

“Ha-ha,” Ryan droned.

If it suited him, in that case, it suited Micah tenfold. Especially since he insisted on sleeping on the floor.

His bedroll was new and it smelled new. That made Ryan want to wash it, or spill some food on it and then wash it. But he could have slept in the bedroll. He had no problems with that. If Micah had just let him wash everything real quick, then Micah could have slept on the mattress.

But of course, there was no hope of that. So now Micah slipped into the somewhat stinky bedroll with his fingers poking out over the edge and looked at the ceiling. He looked … uncomfortable. But not just because of the bedroll and being on the floor. Uncomfortable that he was here. He looked—

Homesick.

Ryan didn’t know what to do about that.

Micah put on another fake smile and said, “Roomie.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say to that either, so he threw his hand out, trying to will mana into the wristband with the motion. The vendor had done that, but maybe it had just been for show?

Ryan should have asked more questions. He had been too focussed on the price-to-quality ratios, comparison to other wristbands, and assurances of effect and origin to ask for a manual. Maybe he should have bought the one with the light aura? But that one had been more expensive, both in cost and mana drain …

He still felt worried that he had been duped somehow … and a little stupid when he threw his hand out again and nothing happened. For now, the band just glowed when he wore it. It was actually kind of distracting. Maybe he should focus on making it not glow first?

He would have to ask Lisa more about it tomorrow.

“You should give it a name,” Micah told him.

“Huh?” Ryan looked up.

“A name. Like Bubbles, or something.”

“It’s not a relic, Micah.”

He shrugged. “It is to us, isn’t it?”

Ryan frowned down at the wristband and guessed he was right. To them, beginners who weren’t even level—

Ryan paused and frowned some more. Micah was a total level of ten, wasn’t he? That was so unfair.

But either way, to people like them it was worth a lot. It was a true cantrip given physical form. Even if it could be broken or lost, its price suddenly seemed cheap. Well, cheaper. It had been pretty expensive.

What name could he give it?

“Hey! Want to head into the Tower?” Micah suddenly asked him, slipping back out of the bedroll and making its smell spread again.

Ryan was seriously contemplating washing it sometime when he was looking the other way.

He sounded excited now, though.

“You want to head into the Tower?”

“Can we? I want to train, uhm, Dueling? For the entrance exam? You dad let slip that we might have to do that.”

Damnit, dad.

“And I have the whole week off because Prisha told me to prepare for the exam, so we can do it a lot.”

Damnit, Prisha.

But Micah did sound excited, even if it was somewhat forced. There wasn’t a trace of the horrified expression Ryan had seen two days ago. Or even the wretched expression he had worn yesterday. He was always smiling. Ryan only caught glimpses of him seeming a little lost.

Was that really alright?

Ryan didn’t like the thought of Micah bottling it all up, but if he really wanted to prepare for Saturday, even though he might not make it in, of course he was going to help him.

He just thought … well, it was embarrassing. But Micah was sitting there on a bedroll and it was in the afternoon, getting dark in a few hours …

Ryan had thought he would maybe want to take a break? Play a board game, or cards, eat snacks, go play alleyball in the dark with Lang and the others, catch some fireflies, play pranks, get into a brawl with some Westgate kids, maybe head to the bathhouse, or outside the city, stay up late or skip stones or something?

… like a sleepover. That was what Ryan had used to do when he was younger. But of course, that was stupid. They were both too old for that now. Why had Ryan even thought of it?

He didn’t mention anything.

Instead, they got dressed and made a quick trip into the Tower. Two hours. Three with travel time. The setting sun dyed the Fields orange and Ryan taught Micah how to duel Earth Boars. He looked strangely driven as he soaked in every instruction Ryan gave him, then offered his own suggestions on how they could be improved. Ryan let him try them out. The important bit was justifying your actions to the testers, after all, and they had two doses of middle-grade healing potion in case things went wrong.

“One, actually,” Micah corrected him. “I don’t have mine anymore.”

“Huh? Why would you— Oh. Right.”

Ryan remembered the sound of Micah’s father shouting and something heavy being dragged down a staircase, him sitting outside on the street, unable to do anything as he just listened. He could do something now, though.

“... please don’t cut yourself anymore,” he mumbled.

Micah froze up a for a moment. “I hadn’t intended to do it at all anymore. I just needed a way to—” He shook his head. “Nevermind. It was a mistake.”

“No potion is worth you spilling your blood for, Micah,” Ryan told him.

He stared at his scarred hand and said, “Maybe you’re right.”

When they got back, they set the table and ate dinner.

Micah told them about his plans for school, the results being posted on Thursday, and that his sister had offered him to stay with her if they wanted him out. His parents, of course, told him to stay. He even offered them money, which they, of course, declined.

They even seemed a little insulted by the gesture, Ryan got the feeling. He knew he was.

Then Ryan showed off the wristband he had bought for himself and his dad covertly inquired about how much it had cost so Micah wouldn’t notice. Micah noticed anyway and scowled, saying he could have bought it.

They ignored him.

His mom offered to bring it with her to work on Thursday to have it appraised properly. If their appraisal didn’t match Ryan’s receipt, he could go back to have it switched out or get a refund.

That reassured his dad and in the meantime, it got passed around the table like the curious little bauble that it was.

His dad had troubles with it, but he managed to get a single ring of light fly out and hover around for a few seconds after lots of practice. It looked like a ring of air underwater, but faded. He mumbled that he was rusty for some reason. Had he used magic items before?

Micah put it on for a moment, but the only thing he managed to do was tint its light blue.

His mom made the lights fly on the first try. Three of them. They were white orbs instead of circles and she made them by snipping her finger. They bobbed around the ceiling for about half a minute before they disappeared.

“Why are you so good at everything?” his dad asking her then and she giggled as he leaned over.

Ryan tried not to look.

“I have a mage manual!” Micah blurted out, probably not even noticing that he was interrupting their flirting. “In case you want to be a [Mage]?”

“Oh, thank you for the offer, Micah," his mom said. "But I’m a little too high level for that.”

“Hgh. Humblebrag,” his dad coughed.

She ignored him. “Mana manipulation is just something I picked up in school. It helps a little at work, too, when dealing with magic items. But that doesn’t mean I want to become a [Mage]. Still, thanks. It was nice to offer.”

“Oh. Ah, aww?” Micah said, but he still looked like he had something to say. Sure enough, after a moment he asked, “Uhm, what exactly do you do, ma’am? For a living, I mean.”

“I’m a [Customs Officer],” she told him. “That’s a type of [Guard]. Or at least, the few [Guard] levels I had got added to the Class when I first got it. My [Animal Tamer] levels got added after just a few weeks, too. I, uhm, sort through goods coming at the gate, collect taxes for wares and look for anything that doesn’t belong. I mostly deal with animals coming through, though.”

“Bureaucrats. Everyone hates her,” David whispered over the table and she smacked him on the chest.

“It’s a good job,” she grumbled. “Or it was until my supervisor insisted I go back to working behind a desk with people. I have two Skills that keep animals from attacking me and had the [Animal Tamer] Class for three weeks before it got taken over, but he still feels uncomfortable about a pregnant woman being near animals. He better hope the people coming through have Skills that keep me from attacking them if things go on like this or they will go wrong.”

“You show them,” David told her.

Ryan’s parents weren’t flirting anymore. They actually sounded cranky. But they smiled when Micah asked them about what they did all day and coaxed stories out of them. The good and the bad.

“Wait, so you can appraise magic items?”

“When I’m at work, yes,” his mom said. “Almost every gate has relics to appraise stuff, but my boss is a Tor and a high level [Gatekeeper]. His subordinates can use some of his Skills when he allows them to, so I can cast various appraisals.”

“That’s so awesome! How does it work?”

“Aura Skills,” she said, “and Skills like [Chain of Command]. They have all kinds of uses.”

His dad huffed and grumbled, “Tors.”

“He’s a good man,” she insisted.

“He’s a fanatic is what he is.”

“He’s just a little religious.”

“There’s a difference between being a little religious and being in a cult.”

It was such a weird sight to see. Micah listened raptly while he ate at their dinner table. It was dark already when he normally would have had to go home, but he was still here. His parents argued like it was any normal day, lovingly, if a little cranky. And when he asked, they answered, and smiled, and scowled, and explained.

Ryan was … a little ashamed of how jealous he felt watching him. But that feeling didn’t last very long because Micah roped him into the conversation and asked him a bunch of questions about the times he’d worked with his parents for a few days. He told a story about the time a horse had almost bitten his hand off (“It was just snorting in your direction,” his mom insisted). Ryan knew otherwise.

While they washed the dishes together, and while they brushed their teeth next to one another like they were waging war against caries, while Micah slipped into his stinky bedroll and they said goodnight, while they both stared at the ceiling for a few hours before either of them fell asleep, a part of Ryan wished all the time that Thursday would never come.

He woke up to Micah shouting and scrambling away from his bed. The wristband Ryan had hidden under the covers was glowing a deep red and felt hot on his skin. Ryan tore it off and slapped it on his nightstand, worried he had broken it somehow by wearing it for too long.

It only went dark after a tense half minute. When he poked it again, it glowed white.

“Sorry,” Micah mumbled in the darkness that followed.

Ryan groaned and went back to sleep.