The sun beat down on Femmet like a merciless forge god, forging his newest creation from the lowliest iron to the greatest Artefact.

The boy grinned as he remembered the witch telling him that story, ending with him asking what the god made and the witch turning and pointing at the ground beneath his feet. That was weird, how did you make something that big in a forge anyway?

How big would a forge need to be to make the world?

Jenert had a huge forge, but the biggest thing he’d ever seen him make was horseshoes for that noble last year. Such a huge forge, and such a small horseshoe. Femmet sighed. How small was he, compared to the world?

A voice yelling from afar startled him out of his thoughts, and he gathered up the balls of dirt which lay around his legs on the ground, placing them in his basket, before running back to the house. Maybe if he finished his work early today, he’d be allowed into town for a little while, long enough to play a little bit.

He was told off, and he deposited his potatoes on the ground for his sister to clean, before running back out to the field to pick once more, before returning with a heavy basket and a tired back, only to be spurred on by another nod and a few more words from his mother. And again. And again.

When he finally finished the sky was purple and blue, but Femmet was too tired to care, and the thought that he might be able to head into the town to play had all but died in his chest.

His father was home though. He saw the Book on the table when he got home and knew immediately. That Book went everywhere with his father. He got a hug, the man’s huge frame enveloping him like a blanket. Femmet was happy, the day had been hard, but he was happy now that he got to see his Father again, he always smelled like warm bread.

It might be better to say that the Holy Book was a part of him, and when his Father had become a Priest it was the connection he had to his god. Without it, he was just a man, but with it in his hands, his Father said it was like he was a part of his god and his god was a part of him, and he could draw on his power, through the Blessings that his god had granted to him.

His father prayed, and once again Hodon the God of Life, Blessed the food, and it shone lightly making it look a little brighter and giving it a little sparkle before Femmet desperately shoveled it into his mouth. His stomach had been grumbling forever.

His mother raised her hand up high, ready to strike him down for rudeness, but father intercepted her with his own, as well as a smile, a chuckle and a shake of his head. Femmet grinned, the crunchy potato visible in his mouth. His sister laughed, hand over her mouth in a poor attempt to disguise her rudeness. Femmet was annoyed and tried to stick his tongue out at her, but he choked on his food, thumping his chest.

The whole table was laughing now, except for Femmet who desperately, tears streaming, took a swig of water before glaring at everyone in the room. They just laughed harder though, and he tried to stay mad but even baby Alice was gurgling, so he eventually joined in.

#

It was several months before Femmet was allowed out of the house for anything other than farming, but he managed to get a skill in that time, ‘Weather Resistance’. It wasn’t especially useful, although it would mean he could enjoy the sun without it burning him, but that was largely pointless now that his skin had darkened. His father had called it a blessing from Hodon, whatever that meant. It would be useful in the winter though, his parents promised him, but Femmet had wanted something cool like ‘Enhanced Strength’.

Berant had gotten that one in the spring and had been bragging and showing off forever. He’d actually beaten some of the adults in arm-wrestling, although Berant had to stay in bed for a few days after challenging his own father. That had been a mistake. Now he got to show off what? His lighter skin?

He decided not to tell them, they’d just laugh at him.

Femmet tried. When he got close to their Spot, one of the old men called out congratulations, an old tradition which he’d forgotten about, just loud enough for them to hear him. His gang rushed over, surrounding him and asking him. Femmet had to tell them eventually but they all just rolled around laughing when they heard and he wished he’d refused to tell them. The rest of the day they flicked water at him while laughing, watching it fall off him like he wasn’t even there.

At least until the witch intervened, scolding them for wasting water on something pointless, doing something nice for once.

After the first few days, they got bored though and did what they normally did when they got bored and nothing interesting was happening, mock fights.

They headed out a little away from the town, the adults always misunderstood, and sometimes the little ones would crowd around, watching. Today, some of the little ones thought they’d tried to join in with the fun.

Berant had always won, making the fights boring and nobody wanted to fight him, and at a certain point realized, and had come up with a new rule where he’d just told them all to get him at once. All of them, against all of him. That was what made this game fun.

The best part was, either one of them could win. After Berant sometimes reluctantly tapped out, they could finally get to each other, turning it into an all-out riot. He’d heard the adults use that word on them once, but Femmet didn’t think it sounded bad, it sounded good.

Sometimes Femmet thought that this was all he wanted out of life and that he was envious of Berant who’d earned the Job of Scrapper the summer before last, the first one out of all them to get a job. Then he remembered how much trouble Berant had been in for that.

The bruises had been there for months.

They finally let him out of the house now, and they were less mad at him after he’d gained his Enhanced Strength skill, he even said his dad had smiled at him the other day! Either way, he would be a burden on his family for the rest of his life, or at least until he officially became a Guard. The rest of them either had the tier 0 Worker Job or the Helper Job.

They lined up, eight against one. One of the girls, the one Berant liked maybe, she walked in the middle of them gave them both a steely stare. Probably for the mess they’d caused last time, and the only way none of them had got in trouble from all the blood, had been that nice Follower lady who’d been passing by who’d helped them out with a quick Blessing.

A rag flew into the air and the girl sprinted away.

They charged, Berant charged in, noticeably faster and bigger. He grabbed hold of somebody who missed with their punch, grabbing him by the leg and swinging him around and throwing him at somebody else. He had some space from that, although he got an overeager kid with his swing. He’d used that move before and they were ready, the boy who’d had a kid thrown at him dodged out of the way. Femmet dived for Berant's legs, grabbing him mid-thigh, but a slap to the back of his head made him see stars and he crashed into the ground.

He’d done his job though. Berant had been distracted enough for Tolo to come flying in, his hands wrapped around Berant’s neck as he dragged him to the ground, his ‘Sure Grip’ skill meaning he stayed stuck on him even as Berant rained blows down on his arms, flailing behind his back. He fell, and Femmet woke himself up enough to realise that Berant was on the ground, and he grabbed the thrashing legs in front of him, holding them together with a vice-like grip. That new kid, Invim, was pretty good too, and between the two of them, they managed to hold his legs down.

Eventually, they had him so tight that no matter how much he tossed and turned, he quickly realised his loss and conceded loudly.

After that, they stopped holding back, it was dangerous to actually hit each other when Berant was involved, and they’d collectively agreed that they could only hit each other when he was down. Femmet was one of the last three left standing, but he was taken out by a flying kick to his stomach which kept him on the ground in a world of pain for a few minutes. Berant wanted to go again a few more times, he would level up quickly from these fights and this was one of the few chances he got to do something like this.

They all ended up panting and laughing on the ground a few hours later, a little bruised but happy, but when Femmet explained the bruises away he told his mother that he’d fallen. They wanted him to become a Land Worker, the more he fought the less likely that would be. Femmet was okay with that, he liked the farm, and planting, maintaining, and everything else which came with it. He knew that eventually, everyone would get too old for this, and in three years most of them would be married or gone off to the city. He knew that, so he always tried to enjoy his time with them.

#

The following Summer, Femmet was bored again. He was thirteen now, but he was still a Worker.

Everyone else was fine with it, he’d actually got his Job fairly early, and he was only considered a failure if he failed to reach tier 1 before he turned fifteen. Berant was a Guard now, and he’d stopped his mock fights a long time ago, he was just unbeatable as a tier 1 combat Job holder compared to a group of tier 0 non-combatants.

Either way, Femmet had gotten his second skill ‘Carry Load’ which helped him carry heavy weights, and helped him move a little easier when he was tired. That was great, but he’d been stuck at level 5 for over a year now, he should have gotten his advancement by now.

He was starting to see his family look at him weirdly, out of the corner of his eye, when they thought he wasn’t looking, did they think he was useless, that they should have had him become a Follower as well?

One day, his mother and sister decided to go with his father to the church, his sister was a Helper and his father was assisting her in that path, using his insight and experience to teach her the religion. Femmet used to get mad when he’d learned that they’d only had him in order to till the land so that his parents could devote themselves to their God, but now he had his Job he took a strange pride in being the protector and provider for his family.

They wanted him to take care of the house and farm by himself that day, and make sure to check in on now toddler Alice every now and then. It was the first time they’d given him that much responsibility and Femmet was overjoyed when they told him. His mother was harsh but she had probably seen how unhappy he was at the moment and tried to lift his spirit. Femmet strolled throughout the house for most of the morning after his family had left, calling himself master and laughing to himself for a while.

The cold was creeping in, he could tell because of the slight crunch in his steps as he finished the last of the harvesting. There was some low mist creeping about as well, the ground was too hilly in this area, it just collected any fog which wandered about. He’d been given some new seeds by a trader, who promised that they would grow well in winter, and Femmet was looking forward to planting them. If he tried different plants, it would be likely he would be able to unlock the tier 1 Job Land Worker.

He enjoyed the cold air and left his coat in the house, Weather Resistance staving off the worst of it. The morning went by quickly before Femmet remembered that he had to check on Alice, she would be stuck indoors about this time and would be very bored. He strolled back, the last of the potatoes weighing him down even with his skill helping. He looked over at his blurry house in the distance, then froze in his tracks.

He saw from afar that the door wasn’t covering the entrance properly. Alice.

He dropped his Load at his feet, desperately throwing himself forward across the icy ground as he slid and crawled towards the door, his mind punishing him in a thousand ways with terrible, red pictures of what he’d find inside. He still had a mind though and thought the situation through before entering. Femmet didn’t call out when he slowly entered through the broken doorway, scratches or maybe sword marks cutting deep into it.

It was quiet.

His breath was the dominant sound in the house. It was the only sound.

His breath, foggy and loud slowly quieted as Femmet forced himself to listen. There was nobody else in the house. He relaxed briefly, thinking whoever or whatever had attacked had gone, before calling out.

“Alice! Alice! Hello? It’s Femmet!” He kept yelling as he strode throughout the house, their furniture was wrecked, but Alice was nowhere to be found. He found blood marks in their room. Blood, but not much of it, then again children didn’t have very much blood. Femmet had seen someone bleed out though, a thief, who’d come from their village. He’d been publicly executed and Femmet remembered seeing the massive lake of blood which had come from his stump and thinking there was no way anybody had that much blood in them.

So she was still alive, she could lose a little blood and still survive.

Alice was alive but hurt, and someone or something had taken her.

There was a trail, he could see it now, so clearly, like drawing a finger through the mud.

Oh. He’d gained a new skill. That didn’t happen normally, did it?

Femmet cast aside those thoughts. Alice. He had to find her. Mother had put him in charge, which meant it was his responsibility to find her. He hadn’t protected the house. He would die before he let anyone kill his little sister.

His thoughts were racing so fast he couldn’t move as he thought quickly. The signs he was seeing, the trail he could follow here, it would go quickly, he couldn't afford to go to get help. Maybe that Trapper Lartan, he could find his sister, but it would take too long to find him, he had to leave quickly, before his last hope of saving his sister was gone.

He took his coat and his father's sword, mostly symbolic he’d been told, but useful for a wandering priest to defend themselves. It worked better when put in the hand of a Believer of Hodon, but he’d been eating blessed food all his life and his father was a Priest, he received the full benefit of the sword on his body. He wanted to outfit himself better, maybe with better armor but there was no time, the trail was disappearing by the second. Then he was gone.

#

Femmet tracked the attacker down far beyond where he’d ever been before, but he had no choice, the trail disappeared after a little while, the monster, he was sure it was a monster based on the tracks it had left behind, it’s imprints in the earth were washed away after a while. If he was a Trapper like Lartan then it wouldn’t be a problem but the skill he’d awakened, ‘Intuition’ was not a tracking skill.

He ignored the prompt that was waiting out of sight, it had appeared since he’d picked up the sword, but he wouldn’t accept it. He loved Alice but he wasn’t going to throw the rest of his life away. He had a duty to his family, he had a duty to take care of them. He had confidence he could kill a little monster, even without ascending to a combat Job.

He headed in the general direction that the trail had been heading in before it ended. A little further on, and the desolate land around him faded away finally giving way to a large wall of trees up ahead, a remnant of the people who used to live in this land. His Intuition and his common sense told him that was where the monster was, where Alice was.

He stepped with purpose, but tried not to step on the newly fallen dried leaves, monsters had better senses than humans. A familiar scream sent him running through the greenery surrounding him, throwing caution to the wind. He reached a small glade. Alice was … alive. She was alive, but two small dogs were playing with her legs.

No, two small wolf cubs were savagely biting deep into her legs causing her to scream out. They would have trouble getting through, she’d had the skill Toughened Skin since she was a baby, but there was definitely a pool of blood underneath her. If she was an adult, the wolves would have broken their teeth on her, but she was a barely walking child.

Femmet dashed forward, swinging downwards with a yell, cutting deep into the wolf's body. The other wolf dashed back with a yelp, as a chorus of howls sprang up around him. Femmet got his arm around Alice, swinging her up onto his shoulder awkwardly, while the howls were quickly accompanied by a much louder almost roar. It resonated through all of them, making the forest itself vibrate with rage, keeping all of them motionless until the sound faded away.

As the roar faded away, Alice who was in his arms screamed out, in fear or pain, he didn’t know. Femmet could only helplessly try saying things his mother said when he was ill to make him feel better.

He kept murmuring to her as he kept moving through the forest, his Intuition popping up every now and then to remind him that he was being hunted and tracked.

He had his sword out in front of him, but it was in one hand, his other being used to keep his sister on his back, and his breathing came fast. He’d been running for a long time to get here. There were noises all around, and the loud one was just getting louder, which his Intuition told him was probably their leader, and the one who’d broken into their home. Why had she taken Alice? Why had she kept her alive? His Intuition decided that that was a good time to tell him that if he didn’t start running now, at the rate that that roar was getting closer, it would catch up quickly and die.

Femmet didn’t think, he didn’t have time, so he just picked the direction with the least sound and ran.

The plants whipped at his legs as he ran, while he breathed deeply and quickly due to carrying Alice. He briefly considered dropping her as he panted furiously and he heard the baying echo out from behind him. He remembered Alice back there, bleeding and screaming as the wolves played with her. He was his family’s protector, their provider, he would die before he let one of them die.

The barking behind him increased in volume. They were behind him.

Femmet used a tree to catch himself and then duck behind as a wolf had caught up to him and snarled and bit at him. He held it at bay with the point of the sword, unwillingly to attack and possibly miss. When it darted in, he swung forward with his leg, sending its light body flying. He looked around furiously, waiting for it to return, but it seemed that once he’d scared it off, it was unwilling to return. He took a quick break.

Femmet squatted to his knees as he breathed deeply, even as the howling echoing around him quickly increased in volume. He took deep shuddering breaths, Alice was okay for now, she seemed to be asleep somehow, was that okay? He hoped she was okay. She needed to be okay.

His Intuition was screaming at him to take the Job advancement, it was the only way he was getting out of this alive. He’d assumed it was a small wolf or maybe tier 1 wolf at worst based on the damage to his home, but from the number of monsters around him, it seemed to be similar to that one they’d killed last year, a Wolf Mother. An adult had died fighting that thing.

He was the guardian, the protector of his family. If he died here, then Alice died here, and he’d have failed his family.

He had to take the Job.

He took a deep breath, then jabbed his finger forward resolutely towards the blue box, even as he saw a wolf cub dart through the forest towards him.

A Warrior gripped his sword tightly, and then in one smooth motion, took a fierce step forward while thrusting with his sword. It pierced into its eye and out the other side. It was stuck there, hanging freely from his sword, dragging it down due to the weight.

The Warrior staggered to his feet and kicked the corpse off of his blade. The rain started up again, but he had no time to enjoy it as the rest of the monsters were coming, and he was in their home. He’d have to fight his way out. He couldn’t outrun them, they were wolves, he was a human. He’d have to stand his ground, use the trees as cover, and hopefully, it would prevent them from surrounding him thoroughly. Although he’d be restricted in his movements.

The Warrior set Alice down to the side gently, he’d need two hands for this fight, and he didn’t need the extra weight. He waited, trying to settle his breathing. Two more, tier 1s by the size compared to the ones before. He backed up briefly before Femmet forced himself to stand his ground to protect Alice. They reached him at the same time. One leaped high for his neck, the other went for his ankle.

His sword was long, he pierced through the lower wolf in one strike, and bringing the full weight of his body to bear with the strike, taking the opportunity to hide behind his blade as the wolf bounced off, snarling, claws scratching and sliding on the blade, before retreating back into the greenery. The Warrior wanted to pursue, to remove the threat, but the wet leaves would make movement unpredictable. Also, Femmet reminded himself, he had to protect Alice.

The Warrior was content to wait while leaning against the tree as he rested, his adrenaline pumping as his Intuition furiously tried to figure out what direction the next monster would come from based on their previous howling.

One to his left, two to his right, plus the one which had run off earlier. The louder one roared out again, somewhere ahead of him, the same intensity as earlier, which given the distance he’d run meant it was following him. These monsters were natural predators, the warrior had to remind himself of that, they could track him easily, every one of them. They could move silently, he had to be ready to respond instantly at any time. These new instincts, he was still getting used to them but they were already used to him, he just had to trust in the Skill, and in his own skill.

The Warrior was probably surrounded, it was too long since he’d last heard a howl. They were waiting. What for? For their leader. He couldn’t let that happen, he wasn’t sure he could fight off a tier 2, let alone a tier 2 and a pack of wolves at the same time. So he needed to go on the offense.

But Alice! Femmet reminded himself furiously.

He needed a way to make them attack him. His Intuition flickered in the back of his head, weak now from all the work it had done, pointing him towards a memory, and their behavior so far. They were group animals, and they liked to attack in groups, perfectly in sync with each other's movements. So they wouldn’t react well to one of them being tortured and hurt.

He stuck his sword into the corpse he’d discarded earlier. He flung his sword around, slowly turning so he pointed it in every direction. One of them finally snapped, wanting to save its family member. A blur of motion in the corner of his eye and his sword responded, cutting through the air and into its head. He felt pain in his leg and turned to see a wolf clamped onto his calf, biting deep, its eyes rolling.

The Warrior flicked his blade, sending the wolf tumbling to the ground as it gurgled and tried to stand before its legs gave out beneath it. He sliced into the wolf's side, cutting deep but not deep enough. The wolf leaped away, and the Warrior fought the wolf for his blade in a brief game of tug, before pulling it free and sinking to one knee and punching it on its head.

It sank down to the ground, but he didn’t have time to finish it as another wolf crept up on him from behind, breaking a twig and alerting him, before leaping at him. He blocked with the sword, and the wolf’s jaws clamped around the sword instead of his neck. Its momentum was strong though, and this one was big, maybe tier 1. It continued forward, pushing the Warrior down to the ground.

He tried to get up off the ground when the jaws of the wolf left his blade, but it leaped on him again and this time its jaws found purchase on his arm, which he’d raised instinctively to block the attack to his neck. Femmet cried out as tears fell from his eyes, before screaming at the wolf and hitting the wolf again and again with the hilt of his sword, still clamped on his hand like it was a part of him. It finally fell off him and dropped to the ground, long after he stopped feeling anything in his arm. It lay there, dazed and unmoving, before quickly coming to itself. It quickly ran, turning into a grey blur and disappearing quickly into the dark forest around them.

Femmet wanted to lie there on the ground, but the Warrior got up with a groan and readied himself for the next attacker, before reconsidering, and throwing a brief contemplative look at the limp body lying on the ground. Alice wasn’t his concern right now. There were too many enemies for him to waste effort on protecting somebody useless to his survival. They knew where he was now. He had to move.

“No!” Femmet spoke out loud. It was like he was having to fight these strange new instincts inside of himself, he remembered now, that he’d done something similar after accepting his first Job.

It was like there was this other person in his head, telling him to work hard, to take care of his family, to be the person they needed. To be their protector. To be their Worker. The memories came pouring in like a flood through a broken dam, one after the other and sending his mind reeling.

Then who was he? What was he? Was he a Worker, or was he a Warrior?

His overworked Intuition feebly raised itself up deep inside and gave him a reply.

‘You are Femmet’

Who was he before he was a Worker then?

All of a sudden it was like he could see the best parts of his life on repeat, the fights, his friends, the church, his food. So this was his life. This was good.

He didn’t want to live for his family, he never had. He’d cried for a week after getting his first Job. How had he forgotten that?

It wasn’t needed to take care of his family. His family had never done anything for him, he was created to fulfill a purpose, to take care of them while they worshipped their god.

And now, after they’d made a boy who would take care of them for the rest of their lives, they’d had Alice, who was going to get the life he’d always wanted. He’d worked for his whole life, for no reward, and through no choice of his own, and now he’d ruined his life to save the life of the girl who’d ruined the rest of his life.

Femmet took a deep breath. The Warrior turned and walked off at a slow jog, towards the edge of the forest.

Behind him, Alice stirred on the ground.

#

The Warrior lurched off into the forest, staggering occasionally, and taking brief rests by leaning against trees. His strength was flowing out of him, from every point that he’d been successfully injured, and he had no way of substantially recovering his strength. His breaths were coming faster and faster now, even when he had no enemies to face. His levels were quickly rising though, he’d hit 3 a while ago, the only thing which was keeping him standing was the small surges of energy that they brought.

A growl behind him sent him spinning to respond, his shaky sword outstretched in one still working arm.

It was a big one, either tier 1 or close to the next tier, either one was bad for the heavily injured him. He couldn’t run, it was too fast, he’d be dead in three steps after he turned his back on it. So what to do? It was a wolf, they liked to go for his weak points, like his neck or his ankle earlier. It was in front of him, it would go for his neck. He just had to be ready. He waited, eyes watchful, breathing fast but steady. It didn’t move. Why?

It was hesitating. Why? Its eyes were trained on his sword. More specifically, the thin layer of blood which was covering the blade. Ah. So this one knew he had killed before, had killed his family, and was afraid, not of him, but of his weapon. He just had to make it stop being afraid.

He stumbled to the side, his useless arm steadying himself on a nearby tree, but his blade dropped and bounced off of the ground. Like the wind, the wolf darted forward a grey blur of teeth that was in front of him before he had time to react. He didn’t need to though, he was already moving. His unsteady hand had been moving, placing the hilt of the blade against the ground, wedged into the earth, while he had toppled over it, looking on the verge of collapse, but reinforcing the limited structure he had made with his body and sword.

The beast leaped at his throat, turning itself into an unstoppable force of momentum. It leaped when close, and Femmet couldn’t help but notice the teeth of the wolf ever so close to his throat, before he turned away with a grunt of effort, rolling away to expose the point of the blade as it slid between the jaws of the wolf. As the full length of the sword was devoured by the beast, shrill screams of panic emerged from its throat, its paws clawing at the earth, and then the hilt, as it tried to knock it away, only serving to knock it around further inside its stomach.

It whimpered then growled fiercely as it tried to claw at Femmet, who scrambled away. It whimpered for a while longer before a pool of blood slowly poured out of its head, and it grew still.

Femmet stood up, he’d gotten himself under control now, it was no longer like he was trapped inside his own body at times, he was making all the decisions right now. For the first time in his life, he was making his own decisions.

Finally, he spotted the tree line up ahead, and he quickly took off running away from the edge, mud splashing under his feet. His whole body hurt, but he knew that he didn’t have long to make it back to the village before the wolves caught up to him.

He fell several times and the mud stung his eyes, whenever he opened them, so he kept them closed. He relied on his ragged Intuition to tell him if he was going the wrong way. He was running, body barely upright, legs barely moving when something stopped him, something hit his stomach.

His sword whipped around him in a large arc, hopefully, that would keep whatever it was at bay, while he furiously wiped the mud from his eyes. Stupid. Stupid! He knew the wolves were close, just because he hadn’t heard howling in a while, his guard had gone down.

He continued turning slowly, thrusting out unpredictably while he scrubbed the mud from his eyes. Voices murmured around him and he thrust in the direction of the closest one. Wait…

A familiar embrace took hold of him stopping his sudden motion and keeping him still while a warmth spread throughout his body, warming even the coldest place inside of him. The smell of bread filled his nostrils.

The last thing he heard before slipping out of his Father's grasp unconsciously was someone yelling to bring some water.