“Hey.” Brent nudged Cathy as he turned a rib piece on the grill. He was tall enough that his elbow poked her shoulder, and he offered, “Do you want to do the honors?”

Cathy nodded seriously. She had brought them here, this was her responsibility.

She whistled a sharp note that cut through the hill. The crowd spun and she called, “Dinner is ready!”

Immediately, people broke from their groups, hungry eyes hunting for food. Some of her classmates staggered forward like they were about to drop on all fours. But while many were still looking at her, Cathy lifted her boon feather to her lips and ate it.

Brent gave a hearty laugh and patted his chest pocket. “If you’d waited until I finished serving, I would’ve joined you.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I—”

“No, I’m glad. I thought I’d have to make a toast. Eat. Grab a plate. I’d rather a feast of mine was more a revelry than a banquet.”

She’d planned on waiting until everyone else had their food before she took any, but Brent shoved one of the thin wooden plates the avashay had provided into her hands and she found herself with a few shish kebabs, beans, and a corn cob below her.

“There’s condiments over there,” Brent pointed out.

She felt the magic of the boon whispering inside of her like a muffled song in another room, and then she tasted the warm juices of the corn cob dipped in barbecue sauce. She nibbled on her food on the sidelines while her classmates queued up. They glanced at her. “It’s good!” she assured them, and they took her word for that, at least.

Only four of her classmates had consumed their boon feathers so far, even after Archmage Illyn confirmed that they were safe. And yes, some of her classmates wanted no doubt to wait and deliberate over what to do with their feathers—the [Alchemists] especially. But the greater issue was that people trusted one of their archmages less than they distrusted the Pretender.

Cathy had wanted to consume her boon in the comfort of her meditation room at home, with her mother to guide her, but her classmates came first.

So, she led by example.

Brent was the first one to follow her. After the crowd had dispersed and he could finally grab a plate of his own, she found herself standing with the band of heroes.

Brent and a few of the alien soldiers were using their impromptu cooking station as a table. Someone had dragged one of the log benches closer, and they stood in a loose circle around it.

He had melted a bit of herbal butter on his steak and added the boon feather like a garnish. Rather than toast with a drink, like the rest of them, he speared a cut of meat and magic on his fork. “To life and loot, and new friends!”

The others drank to that.

Brent’s face journeyed from excitement, to confusion, to droll incredulity as he chewed thoroughly. Because nobody else joined their example. “C’mon!” He swallowed. “You heard the archmage— uh, I mean Delilah. Whose expertise I trust, naturally.”

Delilah smiled but said nothing. She had been quiet ever since she’d come back from her discussion with Micah and Pijeru. She looked troubled, even. If she was, Cathy hoped the food and company would ease her worries.

“But seriously,” Brent went on. “You guys earned this more than any of us. You don’t have to eat your boon now, or at all, but you better—”

“Argh! Whatever!” Quin interrupted and stuffed his feather in his mouth.

Golsa followed his example with a large smile.

Brent laughed and skipped over Kyle and Mason, who couldn’t or wouldn’t eat their feathers, to level an expectant gaze on Ajay, but the archer stared at his feather with a heavy frown. He immediately backpedaled. “Dude, you don’t have to—”

“You said it would take us weeks to process, right?” he asked without looking up.

Delilah was distracted so Cathy answered for her, “It should, but I’m not an expert. I can’t give you an exact prognosis. Over a week, at least?”

Cathy thought she understood his hesitation. Tuhrie and the Pretender both had singled Ajay out, to wound Kyle and make a point. Ajay had also been the one to imply that they should leave and come back to seek revenge in the future.

Did he hold a grudge?

“I’m just making sure I’ll have enough time to meditate on this,” he said, nodding seriously. “Thanks.” He folded the feather and washed it down without chewing.

“So you were the ones who against the monkey fought?” one of the soldiers pointed a fork at their group. He chewed while he spoke, using his tongue to squish the food around, but his voice didn’t sound as garbled as their own would.

Cathy watched, and it didn’t look like their beaks moved as much as they should to pronounce their language. The sounds seemed to originate from their throats and chest.

It was so weird.

Golsa proudly told them, “Yeah. We didn’t just fight it. We beat it.”

“And none of you got serious injuries?”

Cathy thought she heard a hint of condescension in his tone, though she didn’t think it was malicious. He was a soldier in his … twenties? Thirties, maybe? He might have seen battle before he’d come here, and he had definitely fought to protect their new home.

They were teenagers.

Many of the soldiers were the same. They sounded like they were humoring them, or like they were speaking to classroom children. “You must be great fighters!” another cook said with exaggerated awe. “What was that like?”

But if her suspicions were true, her classmates didn’t seem to notice.

“Brutal,” Kyle scoffed with uncertain pride. “Have you ever fought a Garden Greatape before, uh …?”

“Traska,” he supplied his name.

“Kyle. Nice to meet you. Uh, so have you ever fought a Garden Greatape before, Traska?”

The soldier made a face. “Me? Nah. Some of the other guys although yes. I do mainly process and cook what they me bring.”

“Sort of like a loot tent worker …?”

“Get a few levels of [Cook] in and you’ll be wrestling with Greatapes in no time, my friend—”

“You weren’t even there, shithead.”

The soldiers looked amused, but they listened when Kyle went on. And so did Brent, because his group really hadn’t been there to share in their first impression of Tuhrie.

“Well. Good, in any case. ‘Cause, they’re huge. And they can punch through solid stone. The Pretender transformed into one and these guys immediately tried to blow it to the four corners”—he jerked a thumb at the alchemists—”but the thing just shrugged it off. We thought we were done for …”

He launched into the story. Golsa and Quin barged in with their own details and, after a moment, Cathy did, too.

Safe zones. Sarah tapped her foot while she ate. Her midriff throbbed where the raptor had slashed her. It was one of many reasons why she had lost her appetite, but there were even more reasons to eat the meager meal. Her body needed the nutrients, not eating would be wasteful, and not to mention impolite.

It also served as a clear reminder: All of this food came from inside the Tower.

Safe zones, large or numerous enough to house millions … are the Gardens finite?

Two years ago, if someone had asked her that, she would have scoffed and said the Towers were infinite. Obviously. Not because she believed it was the truth, but because what was the point in asking the question …?

Now, she could glance down the hill at the tables and benches climbers had built into the Root road and the old scars of battle that marred the hill. Those remained even when nobody was around to see them.

“Were the Towers ever infinite, or has the Dwarf just stopped bothering with the illusion?” she mused out loud.

Lukas blinked next to her, caught off guard. He wasn’t eating, but he wasn’t saying anything either. After getting their food, they had found a place to sit on their own rather than seek out another conversation.

Her childhood friend looked nearly as troubled as Delilah, which was new. Then again, nearly dying and meeting an alien species was also new.

His expression visibly became more confused as he thought about her question.

“Nevermind,” Sarah dismissed the thought. “My brain is just— Ughhh.”

“Yeah. Same here.” He chuckled awkwardly and leaned back, holding his hands out as he looked around the hill. “It’s like, ‘the fuck?’”

“Yeah!” she agreed honestly, but she kept the point she had wanted to make to herself—‘You know what else is fucking finite? Hadica.’

Space was becoming more and more of a luxury. And not just Hadica, but the Five Cities as a whole relied on the Gardens for food. If millions of hungry new beaks had appeared in their Tower, not to mention beaks that lived in safe zones that might be finite, too ...

Her thoughts spiraled. An anxious tingling filled her chest and her plate crumbled like paper in her grip.

As if her thoughts had summoned them, the first soldiers marched out of the portal on the hill above them—not city guards. Not the Guild’s forces. Hadica’s actual soldiers, of which their city had precious few. They were led by a major who cut the party short.

The avashay soldiers jumped to attention. Krirk found Ms. Denner, who had a smug look on her face like she had known this was about to happen, and chosen not to warn them.

She had sent back word of their situation earlier. Normally, Sarah would have expected the Guild to show up, but their army must have subverted their response in a rare show of force, which was … she couldn’t remember if the Hadica army had done anything noteworthy in the past decade.

More than any of the Five Cities, Hadica didn’t invest in troops. It invested in intelligence and leadership, and it allowed its Guilds and noble families to raise armed forces that acted as army reserves—in exchange for other legal permissions and favors that Sarah had no doubt had exchanged hands behind the scenes.

It was like a less extreme version of what the relationship between the kings and their noble families had been like.

To see their army get off their asses to do anything was like watching a slumbering dragon twitch.

Sarah remembered the words the Pretender had spoken. ‘A way to close this rift I have inadvertently helped to create.’ She also remembered how happy they had sounded when Delilah had mentioned dangling threads.

This is so obviously a trap, she thought as she stared down her pocket, but the worst traps were the ones you saw and had to risk anyway.

She scarfed her boon feather down in a moment of panicked resolve.

“You ate it!?” Lukas nearly shouted in surprise.

She nodded and swallowed with a heavy grimace, but her initial disgust at the scratchy texture of the feather quickly dissolved alongside the boon. It seemed to phase through her body like the beat of a drum and the electric charge that heralded the storm.

Counter to the invigorating feeling and excitement, Sarah wished she could hit the hay.

“Why?” Lukas asked.

“The archmage said it was safe, right? You didn’t sense anything either.”

“I can sense if food has gone bad, not if it’s cursed!”

“For now. You could improve that Skill in the future.”

“You ate the feather now, not in the future, you dumbass! What, did you want to level that badly or what?”

Sarah sighed and stopped deflecting as she watched the soldiers standoff. “No. Yes. Sorta? I think we might need it. I don’t want to treat our new neighbors like our other ones—we can’t, actually. Which sucks. For them.”

Lukas frowned in exhaustion. “What do you mean? That Pijeru lady says they want to be our allies. So long as they don’t try to invade like the North—”

“That’s the thing,” Sarah hissed as the other conversations died down. People were trying to eavesdrop on the discussion going on between their leaders. “They already did! What does the North want? One of our Towers. Where do the bird people live? In our Tower. Do you think the city will just accept their presence because the Dwarf put em’ there? I sleep a ton in history, but if I’ve learned anything about the last century, it’s that we don’t play nice with others when it comes to sharing things.”

Her rant was cut short when their principal addressed them. The party was over. She instructed them to say their goodbyes and depart in a calm and orderly fashion.

But Brent complained lazily, “Who’s going to wash the dishes?”

Ameryth shot him a conflicted glare—something caught between Indignation, respect, and amusement. That glimmer of amusement turned to mischief as she straightened herself up and announced, “Your concern for your guests is commendable, but you don’t have to worry about that. Archmage Illyn can handle the dishes.”

“Huh?” the elderly woman perked up.

The noise level rose again as various people began to speak. “What about our loot?”

“The nicest thing I can imagine us doing is forcing them to leave and putting them on some island somewhere in the ocean,” Sarah continued. “That’s the nicest thing.”

Lukas stared at the childish posturing and bickering in front of them. “It’s not like we’d attack.”

They had never been the ones to throw the first punch, that was true, but there was a first time for everything.

“Do you know? Can we afford not to? Because they can level. And do you really think there won’t be some psycho [Fighters] out there itching to fight them? Once they’re in the Tower, nobody can stop them. Then what?”

“Oh,” Lukas said. Then, after a pause, “Fuck.” His expression looked even more troubled than it had before, but it was less anxious and more grim. Whatever he’d been worrying about earlier must have been something different than Sarah’s own concerns. “So what are you hoping for, [Helper] levels?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. But if we want to build bridges, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“The Pretender’s help.”

“I know,” she hissed back. “That thing must have done this on purpose. I don’t know what it thinks will happen, but it can’t be good.”

“It’s not cursed,” he thought out loud.

“Says the weakest archmage.”

Lukas bit his lip and then bit into his feather.

Her classmates said their goodbyes in passing. They had only known these people for less than an hour, but Cathy tried to improvise a speech. Of course. What was weird was that Kyle and even Lukas seemed reluctant to depart.

In the limelight, Delilah stared at the legion of kindly ghosts that dotted the hill. Pijeru noticed her and brightened.

Delilah turned away and kept her head down as she gave the ghosts, and her classmates, a wide berth.

I’m sorry.

The Tower plaza came to a rest in the late evening. Infirmary, loot tent, and Guild workers alike retired for the night. The last carts left through the commercial exits. A patchwork ring of windows illuminated the plaza and, one by one, their lights winked out.

But the people didn’t leave. The curious crowd remained, watching the blockade of soldiers who intercepted them on the way out. They shepherded them and anyone else who stepped out of the portal toward the infirmary with a tone that brooked no argument.

Some of her classmates, of course, still argued. They wanted to wait in case their principal had anything else to tell them.

When Cathy stepped out of the portal, her cousin slipped through the ranks of soldiers to run at her. He got caught, so she had to come to him. The soldier let go, and he tackled her into a hug.

Delilah kept walking. Not toward the school, like the others, but toward the Guild. She sensed the eyes of the crowd like the hot rays of the sun. [Veil of the Eclipse]. A mental nudge made Rowan take flight. He partially eclipsed her, shielding her from those rays, and people looked up. Delilah slipped away.

She wasn’t surprised to see the lamps were lit in the kitchen when she made it home. She dropped her things at the coat rack and shuffled up the thin stairs to her mom’s … observatory? Atelier? Gambling den?

Atelier for today, she confirmed when she found sheets, paint splatters, and the easel behind the door.

Her mom sat with her legs crossed on a bar stool and doodled a childish painting on canvas: two people that might as well have been stick figures stood on a hill. One was … skipping a rock, maybe? Levitating the rock in the air? The other stood there with a frowny face.

She threaded her way through the figurines that held burnt incense sticks, the circle of star maps, and tarot cards, and came to a rest next to a tray with a tea set.

“You aren’t sleeping at school?” her mom asked without looking. And without waiting for a response, she asked, “Hey, what do you see?”

“Two people skipping rocks at a lake.”

“A lake?”

“Aren’t those little dashes reeds?”

“I thought those were people on a busy road. I’m pretty sure the blue is supposed to be the sky, not a lake.”

“You don’t know?”

Her mom shook her head and stretched. The bar stool rocked and fell back into place. “No, I let the muse flow through me—”

“Aha.”

“—and I was thinking it might be the Second King?”

“Is this not supposed to be a prophecy?”

“You don’t know. Some of those cultists in Anevos could have gotten away and be resurrecting the kings as we speak.”

Resurrection. Pijeru dropped from a balcony in front of her eyes. Her body collapsed into sand. Delilah fell through the sky like a mirror and then— Pijeru reformed alongside a city. Alongside a world on the tassels of the Vim, watching the original shrink as they left it behind. A world run so ragged by a haste spell that it crumbled to sand.

“So, what do you think?” her mom asked after a moment of silence. She looked happy with her work.

Delilah stared at the childish watercolor painting. “I think it looks like crap.” Her voice cracked. If she had died today, this was what her mom would have been working on. It didn’t even have anything to do with her! No wonder, she didn’t have a talent for divination or art.

Why play at greatness? There were such giants out there, hidden in the void between the stars …

“That is no way to speak to someone else,” her mom chastised her, getting up, “especially not your mother. Why would you— Have you been drinking? Breathe at me.”

“Mom.”

“Let me smell your breath. If you’re a mean drunk, I swear—” She tried to angle her chin up.

Delilah pushed away and knocked over a frog figurine.

Her mom’s stern expression and aloof words stopped when she took a proper look at her from one step away. “Delilah. Did something happen? You look—”

Delilah changed her mind, rushed forward, and hugged her. “They died, mom.”

“What?”

“They all died.”

“Who? Your— your teammates?”

“The chicken people!”

She sobbed into her side as her mom stroked her hair. Rowan left. She must have stood there for a while like that, hugging her, because her dad’s bleary voice spoke up from the doorway.

“Lila? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where we can find a doctor this late?” her mom joked in a conspiratorial whisper, “I think we might have to have her blood tested for drugs.”

She had to explain, of course. Despite her jokes, her mom was concerned. Delilah assured her that no, none of her classmates, teammates, or friends had died. She was injured but five different parties had already checked on her. Delilah just felt … worthless.

“I couldn’t do anything.”

“You said you unmasked the attacker,” her dad pointed out.

“Yeah, but that only escalated the conflict. If we had just left immediately like Micah and Kyle told us to— We didn’t because they went looking for me. And we only survived because of Micah in the end. He risked himself to stop the spirit, and he was the only one of us who could threaten it.”

Her parents perked up like they wanted to say something, but Delilah barreled forward, almost ranting as she vented her emotions.

“All I did was say a few words. Cathy could have done that if I hadn’t been there.”

“I don’t know who this Micah is, but if he could deal damage to the spirit, maybe you could ask him how he did that? Maybe it is something you could learn to do yourself. And if not, that’s not an issue. He still needed you—or Cathy. He couldn’t do it on his own.”

“You negotiated with the spirit,” her mom said, “you saved your classmates' lives and earned a boon in the process. Their lives, your lives—those matter. Not some ominous creatures drifting around in the void.” She made a vague gesture at the ceiling. “Here in the dirt, your classmates are alive because of you.”

Delilah wanted to argue. They were missing the point! Was she talking to a brick wall? But another part of her wanted to keep quiet and let their words comfort her. She was too tired anyway so …

Victory by default.

Her mom rubbed her back to check to see if she was listening, and Delilah nodded.

Her dad took her hand and gave it an excited squeeze. “A boon. I remember when you first learned about those. You had a whole plan to run off and bargain levels from golems so you could surprise everyone in classroom.”

Delilah gave a wistful sigh. “Yeah … so dumb.”

“We should go see a doctor in the morning,” her mom said, “just to be safe. And talk about this. But we should probably do that in the morning as well.”

“You look like you could use some sleep.”

“I could.”

She let them guide her to her room and crawled into her old bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and pillows. Her parents didn’t head toward their own bedroom after they tucked her in, they went back toward the kitchen.

Probably to continue the conversation. She considered sending Rowan to spy on them but … he was tired, too. He curled up in his little ‘cave’—a cat bed. “Good night,” she told him and let sleep find her.

[Shadow Witch Class changed!]

[Conditions met: Dusk Witch Class obtained!]

[Dusk Witch level 13 → level 15!]

[Student level 4!]

[Memory — Alien Stars obtained!]

[Skill — Winds of Time obtained!]

“Meditation, huh?” Sarah mumbled. She wasn’t an overachiever, she didn’t meditate often, but she could feel the boon crackling inside of her. It felt powerful and chaotic. What would it do to her if she let it run its course?

So she gave it a token effort, reflecting on the day and what she wanted, but her patience wavered after a few minutes. She tipped onto her pillow and drifted off to sleep.

[Scout level 7 → level 9!]

[Helper level 5!]

[Athlete level 3!]

[Scout levels ‘6’ consolidated!]

[Scout level 3!]

[Helper levels ‘5’ consolidated!]

[Helper Class consolidated!]

[Conditions met: Guide Class obtained!]

[Guide level 10!]

[Skill — Fledgling Metalwind Connection obtained!]

[Skill — Lesser Perception obtained!]

Finally. Cathy sighed and shut her notebook. It had taken two hours, but she’d wanted to finish her account of events while the memory was still fresh in her mind. She updated her to-do list with that and everything else about their new situation in mind.

The army ceased our cart. Missed return deadline on rental. Who can I contact to get it back? How to handle the late return fee?

Consult teachers and/or mom about boon. Would have to make time to visit home for the latter. Maybe mom can visit you? Find experts if need be?

Approach P. Denner in morning about what comes next. Approach Climber’s Guild/ city investigators/reporters on own initiative? You do not have to filter everything through her.

Meditate. Meditate. Mdtate. (& train) Now super important. Push up minor tasks for 2 weeks minimum.

… No1 will focus during loot d&p tmrrw. Account for delays & absences.

She tried to think of anything else to add, but her thoughts felt sluggish and her hand was beginning to cramp. She still had to do her nightly routine—shower, brush her teeth, pluck her eyebrows, skincare routine. If she hurried, she could be done in half an hour maybe …?

Her roommates were already asleep. She crept out of the room and, when she went to bed after midnight, fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

[Witch level 10 → level 12!]

[Helper level 6 → level 8!]

[Witch levels ‘12’ consolidated!]

[Witch Class consolidated!]

[Helper levels ‘4’ consolidated!]

[Helper level 4!]

[Student levels ‘1’ consolidated!]

[Student level 2!]

[Conditions met: City Witch Class obtained!]

[City Witch level 14!]

[Skill — Fledgling Whisperwind Connection obtained!]

[Skill — Basic Rhetoric improved!] → [Skill — Intentful Communications obtained!]

[Helper levels ‘4’ consolidated!]

[Helper Class consolidated!]

[Student levels ‘2’ consolidated!]

[Student Class consolidated!]

[Conditions Met: Student Leader Class obtained!]

[Student Leader level 5!]

[Skill — Social Memory obtained!]

Ajay meditated next to an empty quiver and a fallen stack of four books. He pictured an arrow in flight. It struck the Garden Greatape dead in the eye … and bounced off.

He pictured Micah, digging rock claws that he’d hastily scooped out of the ground into Morgana’s eyes, and the Pretender froze in fear.

What gives?

Micah had caught the spirit in the middle of their transformation, that was true. His rock claws were presumably also a spell effect—they were magical, so they could wound spirits.

Yet, Ajay couldn’t help but feel like, if he had replicated that same feat and planted a magical arrow in the Pretender’s eye, they wouldn’t even have blinked. Call it jealousy or instinct, but everything he knew about spirits, the terror he’d seen in Kerataraian’s eyes, and his Path in the midst of his mediation all agreed with him.

Micah had some way of wounding spirits. Something unique.

My essence is make-believe, he remembered the Pretender say. I can pretend to be an alchemist. I can adapt.

He pictured those rock claws and sensed the boon within him. “That. If you can be whatever I want you to be, I want that, for me, and nothing else.” He repeated the thought, reinforcing it over and over for hours until he fell asleep where he sat.

[Archer level—]

[Archer levels ‘1’ lost!]

[Archer level 10!]

[Skill — Mortal Weave: The Warrior’s Arrow obtained!]

Mason waited alongside a few of his classmates in the dark Tower plaza for nearly an hour before the archgamut stepped through the portal. Principal Denner had left already and spoken to Cathy and a few of the others.

He remained patient while she spoke to the lieutenant colonel on the scene and, when it looked like she might leave, stepped forward and raised his hand. “Uhm, excuse me, madam?”

Lady Illyn perked up with a light stretch of her back like a curious cat and began to walk toward them.

Immediately, Principal Denner broke off from her own conversation to intercept her. “Was there something you needed, Mason?” she asked and turned him away, then placed a hand on his back to urge him to walk away.

Normally, he might have been concerned that he was being rude toward the archmage, and that Ms. Denner wanted to get him out of her hair, but the expression on her face told a different story. She looked almost concerned. For his safety?

Micah had made comments in the past about one of the guests of their city, Enon the Hermit.

Mason glanced back at the kindly woman who had danced with the avashay and conjured an orchestra out of thin air. She followed a few steps behind at a slow pace, letting the distance between them grow. She didn’t look dangerous.

“Uh, I was just wondering if the archmage could help us with something. We wanted to preserve our boons somehow, but when we talked about it, we realized most of our preservation methods are designed for ingredients or crystals, and uh … we had no idea how to go about this?”

“Andrew thought we might be able to cast a preservation spell,” someone else spoke up, “but none of us know how to do that, and uh— Would that even work? Could it damage the integrity of the boon, ma’am?”

Ms. Denner cast a look around their small group. Looking for Andrew, maybe?

“He left,” Mason explained. “Him and Forester. They have a contact in the Alchemist’s Guild apparently. We, uh— None of us do.”

“You’ve been waiting here all this time?” the woman asked. She massaged her temple with two fingers and let out a deep sigh. “My sincere apologies. My attention was somewhat split. As some of you might know, I once was a soldier myself and I tend to fall back into old habits. I should have sorted out my priorities for your sake.

“Of course, I can help you preserve your boons. I have a safe in my office with a minor preservation enchantment and though I cannot cast any … gentle preservation spells, I do have contacts who specialize in such things. If you want, you can leave your boons with me for the immediate future until you find your own solution at the Registry, the Alchemists’ Guild, or a bank—I’m sure your research will be an amazing learning opportunity.”

They were somewhat hesitant, but Kyle had already entrusted her with his boon, and she had come to save them.

Mason handed his feather over. It was a relief, if he was being honest, because some part of him did want to eat it. Not because of the feather itself, but because of his classmates. Cathy, Delilah, Quin, Golsa, Brent, even Sarah and Lukas—they’d walked by some of the alchemical lanterns on their way out and pointed at each other with large smiles when they’d noticed they all glowed in different colors.

It was one more experience Mason had missed out on. As a kid, he’d never understood why idiot teenagers broke the rules and got drunk but now … he was beginning to feel restless.

Someday, he told himself, acknowledging the desire so he could let go of it. It let his thoughts drift back to more important, and more passionate, topics as he strolled back to the dorms. Topics like, ‘Can people be allergic to boons?,’ and, ‘I think I’m going to level up tomorrow.’ That was exciting.

[Restored Constitution], he told himself. If only he got the Skill, maybe he would miss out on fewer things in the future … and have fewer topics to think about.

“Huh.”

[Alchemist level 11!]

[Spell — Conjure Irritants obtained!]

[Spell — Enervating Touch obtained!]

“Oof,” Brent said as he let himself drop. His bed made a similar noise of protest as it groaned beneath him. “That happened.” He chuckled to himself. “Are you sure that wasn’t a shared delusion? Maybe our weed was laced with something else and we’ve been drooling on our beds all day.”

“Like someone’d need someone to lace your weed for that,” Kyle mumbled as he staggered under his covers.

Lukas grunted in agreement.

“A delusion would make more sense, too, ‘cause it would explain your behavior, Mr. Party Animal. So much for being a [Rogue], huh?”

“Yeah,” Kyle paused and he sounded like he actually agreed with him. “Maybe I won’t be tomorrow.”

Lukas paused as well, and Brent leaned up on his elbow in surprise. “Are you serious?”

Kyle shrugged. “It was fun.” He left the statement hanging for a moment as if thinking over his own words, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I have no idea what to think anymore.”

“Well, uh, I’m glad you joined us? Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the chicken people bite.”

Kyle nodded silently and curled up, facing away from them.

Brent dropped with a content look on his face.

Lukas lay in the dark and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts kept him up for hours, long past the time the other two had fallen asleep. “I was only gone for a minute,” he mumbled under his breath. He didn’t remember when he fell asleep himself.

[Hunter level 8!]

[Athlete level 5!]

[Lover level 2!]

[Skill — Basic Time Management obtained!]

[Skill — Magic Sense obtained!]

[Skill — Backtracker obtained!]

[Cook level 10 → level 12!]

[Hunter level 3!]

[Lover level 2!]

[Skill — Minor Conjurations: The Wild Feast obtained!]

[Skill — Balefire Aura obtained!]

[Fighter Class changed!]

[Conditions met: Blooded Fighter Class obtained!]

[Blooded Fighter level 9!]

[Rogue Class changed!]

[Conditions met: Geist-touched Rogue obtained!]

[Geist-touched Rogue level 9!]

[Memory — the Avashay obtained!]

[Skill — Closed Aura obtained!]