"But we need a healer! Who knows what we might bump into out there.”? Malcolm said with a hint of desperation in his voice.

Saria sighed, then held up a hand to stop Malcolm's incoming whining. "Who's going to look after the town while you're away? And you," She pointed at Darion. "who's going to look after Milly?"

"I wanna go with big brother!" Milly stomped her feet.

Darion kneeled in front of her and gave her a quick hug. "No, bumblebee. Saria is right. It's dangerous out there. It'll be safer if you stayed here with Grandma Saria."

"Grandma!?" Saria said with a shocked expression.

Malcolm held in a laugh, but Saria heard him and shoot him a cold glare.

"But, I..." Milly sputtered, her big eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't wanna... I don't wanna be alone."

Malcolm's heart nearly collapsed as he watched Milly's small face fold in on itself, and tears began streaming down her rosy cheeks.

"Don’t worry, sweetie." Saria cut in. "Lord Malcolm will be there to watch your big brothers back. Isn't that right, Lord Malcolm?"

She turned to Malcolm who nodded his head like a malfunctioning bobble head. "That's right! And he'll watch mine. No need to worry we'll be back in a day or two, I promise."

Milly's face lifted into a smile and she gave Malcolm a tight hug. "Thank you, Lord Malcolm! Please keep my dumb brother safe."

"Hey!" Darion began to protest but then halted when Milly leapt at him and wrapped him in a tight hug. He then proceeded to reassure her in hushed tones.

"Adorable, isn't it?" Malcolm said to Saria.

Saria nodded but then her expression hardened. "Back to the matter at hand. Since I'm not going with you, you'll be without a healer. Hold still please."

"Huh? Whoa!"

She then placed a hand on his chest then the other to his forehead. "By the right of my power, I release the flow of your power!"

A rush of energy flowed into Malcolm. He let out a sigh of relief as images and formulas placed themselves into his mind. Something was taking root in the very fiber of his being.

And just like that, he knew!

You now have access to Light elemental magic!

Light Magic is now Skill Level 1! New spells available.

You have learned two new spells!

You have learned the spell Healing Hands!

Info: This is an uncommon healing spell. By laying your hands upon a wounded ally you can heal them 10HP per second! Cast Time: 5 seconds. Mana Cost: 5MP per second.

You have learned the spell Mage Light!

Info: A simple spell that summons a small glowing orb that will follow you and light your path. Lasts for 30 minutes or until dismissed. Cast Time: 1 second. Mana Cost: 20MP.

"Oh, my head is swirling..." Malcolm grasped the sides of his head.

Saria tsked. "Ah, sorry about that. Forgot that unlocking magic can cause migraines."

"Unlocking magic?" Malcolm said as the spinning slowed down a bit.

"Yes, as a master of light magic, I can unlock the magical capabilities in others. If they have a high enough affinity. Upon doing so, that person will learn one or two low level light magic spells at random. Which spells did you learn?"

"Mage light and Healing hands."

"Oh! Those are some very useful spells!" Saria clapped her hands excitedly. "I know the spell Mage Light, very helpful in dark areas. I don't know Healing Hands though, but a friend of mine knew the spell. It's one of the stronger lower level healing spells. It'll allow you to heal others and yourself! With that you'll be fine without me tagging along with you."

Malcolm wrapped her in a tight hug, to which Saria let out a surprised squeak. "Thank you so much, Saria! How can I repay you?"

"How about you don't break her?" Darion remarked. "She's brittle."

"Oh, shush you!" Saria hissed once Malcolm released her. "And no need to repay me, just take care of yourself out there and come back." She cupped Malcolm face in her hand and gave him a light slap on his cheeks. "I'm in retirement. I want to relax in this paradise, not play babysitter for the entire town. Now go, and don't forget to pick up some medical supplies as well!"

"Alright," Darion spoke up. "Let's gear up. I'll grab a wagon and meet you at the front gate."

Half an hour later they were both fully geared up and ready to go. Malcolm had tried talking Berlung into going with them, but the old dwarf was knee deep in making the town forge workable again. The only thing that looked salvageable was the anvil, but Berlung reassured him that he'd be able to get it running within a few days.

"But if you could get me a pair of blacksmith tools, that'd be grand my lord!" Berlung huffed as he lugged a beam of wood to the side.

You have received a Quest!

Title: Tools for The Job!

Objectives/Info: Berlung would like you to get a new set of Blacksmith tools for him.

Rewards: 100XP, +50 Relationship Points.

Malcolm had reluctantly accepted the quest. If he wants the tools so bad, why not just join us!? He swore under his breath. But he also knew it was for the best, they'd need that smithy in operation as soon as possible to make the tools for his builders and weapons for his guards.

"Ready?" Darion asked him as he picked up the reins, then at Malcolm's nod he snapped the reins and the hideous beast pulling the cart let out grunts as they began trotting forward. Malcolm scanned the strange ostrich slash crocodilian beast to remind himself of their names.

<> Eastern Muc'Rak. Level: 5. Health: 100%. Mana: N/A.

Muc'Rak? Yeah, that fits. He smirked. With a thought Malcolm selected the small info tab beside the creatures' name and small paragraph filled his vision.

Info: Muc'Raks are the ideal beast of burden for the desert terrain due to their resilience to intense heat and lack for the need of hydration. Their powerful legs make pulling heavy loads an easy task but be wary, they are easily startled, and very dumb.

"So how does it feel?" Darion spoke up after they'd passed through the oasis's illusion barrier and found the main road towards Azmar's Bay.

"Huh?" Malcolm turned to his friend. "How does what feel?"

A slight grin curled on Darion's lips and he glanced over at Malcolm for a moment. "Oh, I don't know. Going from being called a slave to being called a lord in little over a week!"

Malcolm chuckled. "Aw, yeah..." He turned to look off to the ever-expanding desert around them. "A lot has happened recently... Is it weird that I let them call me Lord?"

"Like you have a choice in the matter!" Darion laughed. "You've saved those people lives more times more than I can count on one hand and now you provide a bountiful land for them to prosper in? Hells, I'm surprised they haven't started a religion on you yet."

Malcolm shivered slightly, he was barely getting used to the fact that people were now calling him Lord. If they really did start worshipping him, he'd run for the hills. Already he felt like he had too much on his shoulders. Part of him was happy that people like Rafael were there to keep him on his toes. I really must investigate getting an assistant of some sort though. Malcolm thought to himself. I have a feeling my hands are going to get super full in the upcoming weeks.

"Oh, don't fret," Darion nudged him with his elbow. "I'll be there to make sure you don't get too full of yourself!"

"Thanks for that, man." Malcolm sighed in relief. "It's getting hard. Where I come from, the only person I had to care for was myself. My mom was never really in the picture and my dad…” Malcolm bit his bottom lip, reigning in his emotions. “And now I suddenly have to look out for an entire town? I'm glad I have you and Saria to help me along."

Darion smiled genuinely. For a moment Malcolm could see the handsome young man Darion tried to hide underneath all his sarcastic remarks. But that was quickly ruined. "Oh, what's up with your weird outfit by the way?" Malcolm asked as he took in the elf's strange garb and scarf that was wrapped around his head.

"Ah," Darion said as he probed his impromptu turban. "As I told you before, Swamp Elves aren't really looked upon as trustworthy people. Some target us because our..." He looked down and a frown set on his lips. "Parts go for a high price on the black market, especially our scalps and ears..."

"Damn man, that's terrible!"

Darion nodded and his grip on the reins tightened. "So, it's best to hide my hair as much as possible."

"Couldn't you just shave your head?" Malcolm asked then smiled. "It'd be nice to see the sun glint off your bald dome."

“Ha-ha! If only it were that simple, but to us swamp elves growing out our hair is a sacred act. There’s a long legend connected to it, but to cut the story short, cutting my hair would be insult to my ancestors and my home tribe.”

“Your tribe? Right, I remember you telling me about that. Do you think any of them made it out?”

“They’re dead.” Darion said quickly. His grip on the reins tightening.

Malcolm felt he shouldn’t push any further, but he wanted to comfort his friend. “You don’t know that for sure, maybe some- “

“They. Are. Dead!” Darion snapped, the sudden outburst caused the Muc’Raks to hiss in confusion and bring the wagon to a halt. “I saw them die!” Tears flowed down his face. “I was on a hunt, when I came back… My home was on fire, everything was on fire!”

Malcolm didn’t know what to do as he watched his new friend bury his face into his hands and sob. He looked around for help but already knew they were alone. Just the two of them on the road, the far-off city of Azmar’s Bay barely a speck in the distance.

Awkwardly, Malcolm began to pat Darion on the back. He must have been holding it all in. Malcolm frowned. He was trying to stay strong for his little sister. “It’s alright. You’re safe now. Milly is safe now.”

It took a moment, but eventually Darion pulled himself back together. “Can we just act like that didn’t happen please?”

Malcolm shook his head. “No, that definitely happened.”

Darion glared at him.

“A lot of shit has happened to the both of us lately,” Malcolm went on. “I won’t fault you for crying, there’s nothing wrong with that.” He patted Darion’s shoulder. “Just know that I’m here for you.”

Darion’s expression softened and a smile creased his lips. “Thanks, pervert.”

“Sure thing, asshat.”

The two soon fell into a soft argument and pushed on each other's nerves, they entered a strange ritual that all male friends fell into. It was the ritual all male friends go through at one point or another, testing each other and taking notice of the others limits; all the while building up a tough bond between them.

The rest of the trip was surprisingly uneventful and before long by nightfall they were riding up to Azmar's Bay front gates. Malcolm awed at the massive stone wall and gate. As they drew closer the gates opened briefly to let in a wagon that was ahead of them and Malcolm gasped as he glimpsed the city.

The cobble streets were well lit with what looked like lanterns but the flame they held was a strange shade of orange that made Malcolm wonder if they were magical in some way. I wonder if this world even has electricity? Malcolm thought. Would they even need it? Maybe Mana is their Electricity. Thanks to the bright lanterns he could easily see most of the city's details. It was a fantastical mixture of Agrabah, the town from Aladdin, and an old mid-western town. This place is huge!

"Oy! Who goes there?" Shouted a guard from a post that had been built into the city's wall.

"Let me handle this." Darion whispered to Malcolm. Then he turned to the guard and shouted. "We are just simple men in need of supplies. Please allow us passage!"

The guard let out a grunt. "Need of supplies in the middle of the night?"

"We travelled all day to reach the city." Darion smiled plainly. "Check us if you must, but if you'd let us know of an Inn that'll have room for two wary travelers and a wagon that'd be much appreciated."

Malcolm marveled at Darion sweet tone. He had never heard the swamp elf speak in such a refined voice, it was nearly alien. As if sensing Malcolm's staring, Darion turned to him and winked.

"Fine!" The guard grunted. "Come forth! Slowly! Tekla! Come out and give me a hand with this, would you?"

The guard kept his hand by his sword hilt as he approached Darion's side of the wagon. To Malcolm's surprise the guard was a dark elf. He could see by the moonlight that the elf had grey skin, his bright orange eyes blazed when the light hit them, and he had a white bushy moustache on his face that made him look like Hulk Hogan. Malcolm tried to Analyze the guard but was surprised when only an empty prompt box appeared in front of him.

Are city guards shielded from the Analyze skill? Malcolm thought to himself. Or is his level too high for me to analyze?

"Yes, Captain Khel!" Another guard came out of the post and walked up to Malcolm's side. He could already tell due to this guard curves that it was a woman. Deciding to put his theory to test, he analyzed the female guard.

<> Name: Tekla Odrick. Level: 17. Health: 100%. Race: Wood Elf Disposition: Suspicious.

Feeling curious, Malcolm mentally tapped the Info tab.

Info: Wood Elves choose to stay to the deep woods of the Ever Forest, but not as far as the Swamp Elves. They pride themselves on being the original elf race. Wood elves receive +1 to DEX, AGI, and +1 to WIS.

Hmm, I guess that'd mean that the other guard is too high level for me to analyze. Malcolm quickly thought back and could remember that the Giant Bull Scorpion was the highest-level opponent he'd come across at level twenty. So, does that mean my skill can only work of targets level twenty and below?

"Where are ya coming from?" Tekla asked, knocking him off his train of thought.

He looked down at her and could see green eyes boring into him, a frown seemed to be permanently etched on the woman's supple lips. Even with the leather helm and full set of leather armor, Malcolm could tell the woman had a certain sharp beauty to her. Warm olive skin, high cheekbones, pouty lips, and eyes like emeralds.

"Huh? Oh, a new settlement out south from here."

Tekla's frown deepened. "South from here? There's nothing but desert out there."

Malcolm shrugged. "Not anymore." He said vaguely, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted New Arcadia to go fully public just yet.

"What's this settlement called?" Captain Khel barked. "I haven't heard anything of someone wanting to make a settlement out in the Waste."

"It's called New Arcadia," Darion chipped in, ignoring Malcolm's look. "It's a humble establishment."

"Humble? Sure, whatever. Another tent city. It'll be gone within a month, people tend to not understand that you just can't set up a new settlement in the middle of the Waste." Captain Khel said with a bored tone. "Your clear to go. Take the main street and make a turn at the third building. There you'll see Deerhorn Inn, they should have an extra room for you."

"Hold it!" Tekla called out. She then leaned toward Malcolm and glared into him. "Is that weapon enchanted?"

"Yes, it is" Malcolm replied with a gulp.

The woman's intense eyes set him on edge, he couldn't even remember her blinking. Her eyes grew cold and distant, for a moment Malcolm thought she was going to draw her blade.

"Keep it sheathed." She hissed. "If I hear of any ruckus happening, I'll come searching for you. Do you understand me?"

Malcolm bit his tongue, he nearly replied with a sarcastic response. But he could feel that the frowning woman was in no mood for jokes, so instead he nodded. It's a warhammer, it doesn't have sheath!

"Good lad." Captain Khel remarked. "Go on now, it's getting late. And don't be starting no trouble, Azmar's Bay might be a shit hole but it's our shit hole. Got it? Keep it clean."

With the greatest fortitude they'd ever summoned and clenched jaws, both Malcolm and Darion nodded and moved past the gates. It was only once they turned by the third building and were in front of the Inn when they finally relaxed and began laughing.

"Gotta keep our shit hole clean!" Darion guffawed.

Malcolm grasped at his sides and inhaled as he laughed. "What the hell was up with that!?"

Darion shook his head as he tried to home in his laughter. He gasped as his turban unraveled and his dark green hair shone in the moonlight like an emerald beacon.

Frantically they both rewrapped his head and turned all about them to see if anyone saw. Thankfully the streets were vacant so late at night, with only a few forms snoring in dark alleys or out in front of bars.

Hurriedly they set their wagon up and rushed into the Inn, both completely unaware of the shady cloaked figure that stared at them both from across the street. A greedy smile spreading across the cloak man's face.