The next few days passed quickly. Jeremy kept them both on a tight schedule. During the day, Jake alternated between sprinting and walking to keep up, very much the slowest link in the chain. At night, he practiced Spellcrafting and Protection magic until Jeremy insisted he got to sleep.

The first night, Jake crafted a short duration, weak potency Protection/Aegis/Absorb spell. While under the effects of that, he crafted another, more potent version. Each cycle covered the next against the risk of a miscrafted or miscast spell and ratcheted up the power level.

Several castings went wrong. The moment control began slipping away, he released the spell. The blasts still overwhelmed the Absorb spell, but they were significantly less deadly. On the bright side, he got extra healing practice.

Over the course of those nights, Jake increased his Protection magic skill to 5, Spellcrafting to 4, and Life magic up to 3. Unsurprisingly, the basic Protection perks were much the same as with Fire magic.

Stability (0/5): Increases stability of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Power (0/5): Increases potency of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Quick Cast (0/5): Increases casting speed of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Critical Chance (0/5): Increases critical chance of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Critical Severity (0/5): Increases critical severity of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Cast in Motion (0/5): Decreases the accuracy and movement speed penalty from casting Protection magic while moving by 20% per level.

He put two Protection perk points into Stability. That would allow casting, and thus crafting, more powerful Absorb spells safely. The other three points went into Power. More potency, more protection, less danger from miscasts, hostile mages, and, well, pretty much anything, via the Armor and Absorb effects.

Life had the same basic perks as well. He put a point each into Stability and Power, and the third into Quick Cast. With healing magic, every moment might be the difference between life and death.

Spellcrafting posed the hardest choice. Speed wasn’t a priority. An extra half-second on a cast wasn’t a huge issue, particularly not for Protection spells. Cohesion would be useful down the line, but for now, even three aspects were a handful, let alone the four that Insights to Aspects supported.

Burst firepower would decide fights. Neither Durability nor Efficiency improved that, leaving a choice between Stability and Power. Power was only 5%, but it would boost mana efficiency as well. Stability was 10%, but the more he pushed a spell’s potency, the faster stability would decay.

Both would have their uses. He added a point to each, bringing them both to 2.

***

The Forest gave way to wide open grassy plains and, for the first time in over a week, a horizon. Rather than a slow thinning of the trees, it passed from thick forest to flat grass in the space of a hundred yards. Beyond a dirt track in the direction of the Divine Empire, there wasn’t anything else of interest.

Out of the Forest, into the fire. The wood elven books indicated that the denizens of the world were not all as community-minded as they were, to say the least. While it was possible that was propaganda, it was vastly more plausible than the alternative, especially when it came to the orcs living nearby.

Jake forced a smile. It was a shame Jeremy couldn’t come with them all the way. “This is the border, then? More sudden than I expected.”

“Aye.” Jeremy lowered his voice and gestured to Cara, who was wistfully looking back at the forest. “Make sure you look after her.”

“I will.” As best I can. “But who’ll look after me?”

Jeremy smiled and shook his head. “Don’t die too often.”

“I’ll try. You too. On that note, I’ve got an idea for a spell, but… I need someone to test it on.”

The night before, Jake had studied Jeremy’s Blast Arrow spell and worked out how the dual Imbue-Sphere forms interacted. Based on that, he’d constructed a Protection/Touch-Aegis/Absorb spell, but it still awaited testing. He explained the idea and talked through the construction with Jeremy.

“Worth the risk,” Jeremy said. “We both Absorb up, then you cast it.”

A tense casting, but it went off without a hitch. The old ranger was an attentive and surprisingly humble learner. After only a couple of casts, he’d already grasped it.

“There.” Jake smiled and a tingling warmth filled his heart. Even if it was in a small way, he was helping to train a new wave of wood elven casters. “Its potency is low, but it’s better than nothing, and should help them safely transition to the self-cast Absorb spells.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy bent at his waist and bowed. “This may save lives. We’ll have them battle-ready in record time.”

Cara approached with a quivering smile and slumped shoulders. “You guys done?”

How hard was it going to hit her? He was a long, long way from home, but it wasn’t the same. She would actually miss the Forest, and that was before even considering the tree-song’s absence. Was that something to envy, or pity?

He swallowed. Neither. Not now. There was too much at stake. “Pretty much. Here, Jeremy, you should take these books. Reltan’s probably already raising a search party for them.”

“They’ll get back safe. Make sure the two of you do, too.”

***

Jake and Cara walked side by side up the track. They didn’t talk. Occasionally, Cara glanced over her shoulder. The usual energy in her steps was gone. She didn’t even fidget with anything.

He indulged her silence. Space was what she needed. Or was that merely easier for him? This was her first time leaving the Forest. First time away from the song that connected all her people.

All her people except her now. And the only person beside her was a human she barely knew. What could he do in the face of that?

Grasslands gave way to farmland, mostly cereal crops. Occasionally a figure toiled in the distance. Subsistence farming. If Jake put his mind to it, he could revolutionize farming. Or maybe not. How much did he really know about farming?

Not a lot. Maybe, when this was all over, he could work on it. At the very least, he might be able to point them in the right direction, help them develop. Although, if there had been ten thousand years of no progress, maybe there was something in the way? Something blocking them?

They arrived outside a small village close to sundown. It was time to stop shying away from the elephant in the room. “You okay?”

She stared blankly at him, blinked a few times, and nodded. “It’s just so… quiet. So alone.”

“I’m here.” Not that it was going to help.

A half-hearted shrug. “I’ll be okay.”

“Alright.”

They approached the town. Most of the buildings were wooden with thatched roofs. The blacksmith was stone, and a large brick manor sat atop a hill, looking down over the village. Beyond that stood a barn, a few dozen houses, a mill in the background, and a tavern bustling with villagers drinking. Not so different from Earth, except they were all orcs.

Green skinned, six to eight feet tall with the physiques of linesmen, and two oversized tusks protruding from their lower jaws. Cara strolled on toward the village as if they weren’t alien figures. An ache swelled in the back of Jake’s throat. If anyone here was an alien, it was him. Hopefully, they’d be friendly.

They could have buffed up first, but Cara would never have let him. Worse, she’d have been right. Anyone who Identified them or had Discern Magic would notice any combat buffs, and their weapons already pushed against the limits of acceptability. Arriving armed and ready for battle would be unwise.

At least he’d made a few new spells while Cara had cooked breakfast. He pinched his bottom lip between his teeth. They didn’t have any reason to expect a fight. The orcs were probably lovely.

A heavily armored orc stood out front of the tavern, at least eight feet tall. His armor glistened in the dying sunlight. A heater shield was slung across his back, emblazoned with a dragon crest. A sword hung on his left side, a mace on his right.

Opposite stood a braying pack of five orcs, all bare from the waist up. They each wore a necklace made from several small white objects strung together, all differing in number and size. Weapons hung at their belts, ranging from daggers to maces hung. Their hands rested on them, itching to draw.

The largest of them stepped forward and squared up to the armored orc, growling and baring his teeth. Maybe they weren’t all lovely after all.

Jake took Cara’s hand. They didn’t need to be part of this. “Let’s go.”

She brushed him off. “No. Be ready—he might need help.”

Five versus three. Great odds, especially for a stranger. Jake sighed. “I’ve got your back, but seriously?”

If she really wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to stop her. Worst case for him, Death was waiting with more information. He had to help her.

The leader of the pack glared in their direction. He grunted in a guttural language and headed off, gesturing for the others to follow.

“Come on.” Cara took Jake’s wrist and pulled him along. “You need a drink. I’m buying.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

She tilted her head, the way she always did when confused. “What’s so funny?”

“My… Someone asked me to go for a drink, the night I got kidnapped and dragged here.”

“I’m sorry!” Her eyes widened and her hand shot over her mouth. “I didn’t know. Is that how they got you?”

“No. I didn’t go. Maybe if I had…”

“… then you wouldn’t be here.” Her lips pressed tight together. “It’s okay. I understand what it’s like to be apart from the place where you belong.”

Place where he belonged? Jake snorted. “I nearly had my life the way I wanted it. I was so damned close. But hey, at least I can cast magic now.”

“Why didn’t you go? For the drink, I mean?”

“Too busy.” Always too busy.

“As a scholar, right?”

How to explain a delivery warehouse to a wood elf? “No, manual labor.”

“With your stats?”

“No stats. Just paying the bills.”

“What a waste!” She tugged at his wrist again. “You have time now. Tomorrow, we find quick work; tonight, we relax.”

“How can you relax?” He certainly couldn’t. Sleeping out in the wilderness might come with its own problems, but at least they wouldn’t be surrounded by strangers. “We’re a long way from home on a quest that’s probably going to kill us.”

She grinned and took his hand in hers. “That is exactly why it’s the best time to relax.”

It made no sense, but then again, what did these days? He’d earned a stiff drink, and the opportunity to try orc beer was too good to pass up. “Alright, but only one.” It wasn’t like saying no had worked out last time, anyway.

The well-lit tavern brimmed with raucous drinking, arguing, and singing that more closely resembled choking than a tune. Less crowded than a busy bar on Friday night, but viscerally and explosively alive.

A few of the orcs glanced idly at them before turning to their drinks and guttural banter. Despite the constant sense that a brawl or three was imminent, it felt safe.

An older orc woman skulked in a corner, propped up by a gnarly staff. Her beady eyes remained fixed on a group of young orc men aggressively arguing. A sign hung above her, inscribed with a runic language. Orcish. Without a dictionary, translating it was out of the question.

“Don’t start a fight,” Cara whispered. She led him to a gap at the bar, giving a wide berth to the rowdier groups.

No shit. “How could that happen?”

“Healer’s in town, so…” She held up her hands and shrugged. “Pretty much anything might do it.”

A fight broke out, making her point for her. The group of young orcs that the old woman—the healer?—had been watching descended into an angry ball of fists, knees, and headbutts.

Great. They were surrounded by eight-foot-tall orcs with no entertainment but fighting. Not that an Earth bar would be much different if magical healing were on standby.

The orc woman behind the bar nodded at Cara and continued to dry off oversized tankards. Bald and stocky, she was shorter than most of the other orcs, yet still a good few inches taller than him. Behind her hung a large bronze bell, heavily worn and chipped in places.

She put her tankard and worryingly ratty rag off to the side and flashed Cara a toothy grin. “Half-strength, or quarter?”

“Quarter,” Cara said, without the slightest hesitation. She clambered onto a crude barstool and patted the one beside her. “For me and my friend here.”

“Quarter-strength?” Had he really heard that right? “I might not drink much these days, but I’ve had my fair share.”

The bartender looked him up and down, sending the tingling down his spine of being Identified. She roared with laughter. “This one’s funny.” She addressed Cara and gestured at Jake like he couldn’t hear them. “His first time in an orc bar?”

Cara nodded and shared a knowing smile with the bartender.

Of course, orc beer wasn’t like human beer. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, could he?

“Two quarters, coming right up. Room for the night?”

“Please.” Cara handled the orc a few coins. “Single’s fine.”

Jake’s eyebrow shot up.

She shrugged. “No point paying for a second bed I won’t use.”

“That’s the spirit,” the bartender said, slapping down two heavy tankards before them. “Don’t worry about noise. We’re used to it here.”

Cara’s face and ears turned red. “No, not like that, we’re not—you know—” She shrunk back in her stool, blinking and looking frantically between Jake and the laughing orc.

The bartender flashed another grin, somehow full of cheer despite the array of razor-sharp teeth. “You’re not the first wood elf I’ve had pass through, you won’t be the last neither. I’m always happy for less sheets to clean and beds to make.”

An orc at the end of the bar shouted, pulling the bartender away. Cara’s stiffness slowly abated. A long exhale, and she sipped her drink. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.” He kept his face impassive. It made sense to concentrate their forces. “It’s safer. More efficient.”

“Right.” Cara nodded curtly. “Efficient.” She took another sip and gestured for him to start on his. “So, Jake Earth Not-Really-A-Scholar, why are you really doing this?”

Drinking was suddenly more appealing than ever. He lifted the heavy tankard and sipped. It wasn’t bad. A bit bitter, but not particularly strong.

The kick hit him like a truck. He coughed and spluttered, hurting his hand as he slammed it against the bar. “That’s… that’s quarter-strength?”

“Mm-hmm.” She took another sip, her smile far too smug. “First time in an orc bar?”

“No.” Another dry, bitter sip. Ready for it, he held the kick under control this time, but the damage was already done. “I’ve been in plenty.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, you have.”

Hang on a moment. “You’ve never been out of the Forest before now.”

She turned away, her cheeks a little rosier. “You’re dodging the question. Why are you really doing this?”

Why was he? He shrugged. “I have a quest. What else am I going to do?”

“A quest to save a world you don’t even want to save.”

He flinched and took another drink. Why the hell should he? “I’m doing it, aren’t I?”

“You aren’t the kind of guy to do anything without a reason, certainly not just because the System gave you a quest.”

“Maybe I am.” He clenched the tankard and gulped down more. The beer was meant to be strong. It had better hurry to the rescue. “What makes you so sure?”

“For starters, you made me explain the why to literally every single thing I’ve ever taught you.”

She had a point there. Another swig. Was she done yet?

“You always think before you act.”

“Hey! You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Sometimes it is! Sometimes you just have to dive in there without thinking.”

“That why you’re here?” Fire burned hotter and hotter in his chest, refusing to shut up and sit still anymore. “You spoke up without thinking and now you’re too scared to back out?”

Her eyes widened. She looked away and slumped in her chair.

It was unfair, and he’d already gone too far, but the words kept coming. “Have you even read what it’s like outside the Forest? It’s dangerous, it’s brutal, it’s unforgiving, and the Divine Empire is worse.”

She bit her lip and swallowed. “I know. It’s—” Her gaze dropped to her drink. She sighed and sipped at it. “Forget it.”

It wasn’t her fault. Jake’s chin dropped. The off-green tinge of his beer, for want of a better word, was more than a little worrying. What was even in it? He took another sip. Sharp, and definitely too bitter, but it was growing on him.

A squeak came from Cara’s direction. The beer couldn’t have had that big an effect already, could it? It had sounded almost like Nibbles.

“I don’t think you want a taste of that.”

Cara wasn’t talking to him. Oh, no; she was redirecting Nibbles away from her tankard.

“You brought Nibbles?” His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head, wishing he didn’t believe it. Of course she had.

“I was going to find someone to look after her.” She shifted in her seat and hunched over her drink. “Then I forgot. Then I remembered, but it was too late, and Jeremy would have said no, and I really wanted Nibbles to come and… surprise?”

What was he going to do with her? He held his head in his hands, focusing on slow, calming breaths. The alternative, hurling obscenities, was more tempting by the second.

“She’d only have missed me, anyway.” Cara petted the creature, eliciting loud purring. “See how happy she is? And since she’s my pet, nothing can hurt her while she’s in my inventory.”

Deep breaths. Calm thoughts. He sighed and held up his hands. “She’s here now, so…”

“Nib-nibs loves me, yes you do, yes you do! You’re so glad you can come. You don’t get mad at me, no you don’t, not even after being stuck in a smelly little pack for days.”

“I’m not mad at you. I just want her to be safe.”

Cara leaned in closer and held his gaze. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re terrible at relaxing?”

Despite himself, he chuckled. “Not in those exact words.”

“We’ll work on that.” A smile lit up her face, as if she wasn’t still in major trouble. “You just need more practice, that’s all.”

He should have been mad at her, but he couldn’t muster it. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was that glowing smile. Maybe it was Nibbles gnawing on his ear.

A large, armored figure propped himself against the bar, too close to Cara for comfort. It was the orc from outside, the one who’d squared off against the pack all by himself. “Who’s this beautiful creature washed up in the town I saved?”

Cara blushed, blinked twice, and turned to the orc. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and she mumbled, “Nibbles.”

In contrast to the bartender’s gregarious grin, this orc’s smile was forced. What was he playing at? Jake activated Identify and awaited the results.

“That’s a beautiful name,” the orc said, leaning in slightly closer, “but that wasn’t the creature I meant.”

Red filled out Cara’s cheeks. She brought her hand up over her mouth and stared at her drink.

Gramok Kadora

Level: 15

Gramok whispered something in her ear. She tensed up. Her shoulders pushed back and her jaw set.

“If he’s bothering you…” What exactly he could do about it was unclear, but he’d have to do something. He certainly couldn’t wrestle or fistfight the orc. Magic would bypass the plate armor, but also escalate matters way too high.

A stiff shake of her head and she plastered on a smile. “He’s not bothering me. In fact, well…” She leaned over and whispered in Jake’s ear. “Don’t stare, don’t Identify them, but those thugs are incoming.”

Shit. His ideal battle plans involved time to precast, distance, and being on the right side of an ambush. An impromptu bar brawl wasn’t ideal. Tight quarters, lots of enemies. Keeping distance would be nearly impossible. “Don’t know if we have the time. We have business to be getting on with.”

“I’m doing it.” She straightened up and glanced back at the orc in distress, conveniently giving her sight of the door. “With or without you.”

He risked a glance. Five orc thugs, the same ones as before. Not great odds. Their hands resting on weapons didn’t suggest this was going to be a punch-up, either.

The armored orc grinned for real this time. “We play hard in this town.”

Another three thugs swaggered through the door, with equally bare chests and similar white necklaces. The other patrons exchanged glances and made hasty retreats, most of them carrying their drinks. Another sign this would not be pretty.

Nibbles retreated into Cara’s pack. Cara unslung her bow and notched an arrow. One day, she was going to get herself killed. Jake sighed.

Abandoning her wasn’t an option, and she knew it. “I’m with you.”

As the last of the patrons left, the bartender retreated out the back. In the corner, the healer erected a magical barrier. She leaned forward and rubbed her hands together.

The leader of the pack advanced with a serrated scimitar and a sneer. “Human, elf. Last chance. This doesn’t concern you.”