"Triburst flash ignite!"

Shit! Missed again! Miss Sarna was right... This is what happens when I lose my speed advantage.

Bloody and bruised, River's heavy breathing billows fluffy clouds of mist in the freezing cold. Stripped of all his clothes, except for minimal undergarments, he aims a trembling cleaver in front of him like a heavy gun.

His target blurs before and behind the trees. Their speed mixed with swift teleportation magic disorients him to the point where he can't trust his senses anymore.

A shallow slice across the back of his muscular thigh staggers him and he retaliates with a slash of his own that cuts the frigid air but nothing more.

He resumes the fighting stance of Way of Intercepting Hydra, bracing for another attack. The first time he took a hit he tried to heal himself, but didn't have time to recite as well as defend himself and he received two more slashes in rapid succession.

The frustration of being toyed with starts turning his vision red. Impotency in battle, after everything he thought he knew, brings him back to the cave. He's in excruciating pain, shivering from the cold and the fear, wondering how he got himself in this mess and if he would survive to get himself out.

His mental distraction costs him a fist to the ribs and he nearly vomits the water in his stomach, the only thing he's had in there for days. Gritting his teeth, he forces the image of an abyss into his head.

Clear thoughts.

Where are they?

Clear thoughts.

Fuck, my everything hurts...

Clear thoughts.

What's that... smell...?

The trace of something behind him sends him whirling around, the cleaver barely missing the fluttering robe of a dark figure. He follows through with a hard kick where the figure should be behind him where he was facing.

He hits nothing, but he can feel the presence moving away. He's felt this only once before when he made a wild swing in the beginning. Instead of attacking again, or blocking, he rolls to the side and narrowly avoids the invisible force splitting the air on its path of destruction.

The last time that blast of air or whatever sent him flying and he may have fractured a rib or he landed badly on a branch. Either way, it hurt immensely. Mid roll he started his incanto.

"Triburst flash--"

--ignite!"

Barely back up, his cleaver sends three spikes of red, blue, and yellow energy streaking toward the robed figured, but they pass through harmlessly.

He grunts in confusion and frustration, but puts his guard up just in time to block two throwing knives aimed for his face. The figure vanishes and five more take its place.

They mirror each other exactly as they each lift a serrated dagger in one hand and aim it at him before rushing in all at once.

These five are not as fast as the lone figure meaning River can track them with his eyes. Unfortunately, this doesn't translate to them being slow and he struggles to push himself in not getting hit.

He successfully uses a tier two skill to disarm one, then another, and another until all five figures are swinging fists and kicks with even more killing intent.

Already exhausted from how long the fight has been going on, the unrelenting fury of five expert Brawlers is completely overwhelming.

A final uppercut to the chin sends River flying, out cold before his head hits the semi-frozen ground

He woke up soon after, propped up against a tree, wearing a blanket and having no idea how long he had been out. Groggy from the repeated, heavy blows, his hand feels for his enchanted cleaver. He grimaces from all the pain wracking his body. Something had to have been broken, but his only healing spell couldn't do anything about that.

"Looking for this?" The hooded figure asks, holding up the very end of the handle like they had picked up something vile from under a rock. He jerks forward but the pain arrests him. The figure shakes their hooded head.

"Better, but not by much. We have a long way to go..." removing their hood reveals silver hair and golden eyes and lips. It's too cold for Sarna to sweat, but she takes out a canteen of water to drink.

She offers it to River, but when he grabs hold of it she hoists him back to his feet. It is the cruelest thing she's done so far.

"Heal yourself for now and we'll head back inside. We're gonna patch you up, make dinner, and then work on your deck. You mentioned having some cards you weren't sure of?"

After taking long gulps, River wipes his mouth with an edge of the blanket and nods his head.

"You might as well be versatile since you have all six classes, but that only means you're gonna work that much harder to master those abilities."

Not wanting to ruin his good clothes and also to focus on skill rather than enchantments, River opted to be as close to naked as possible. Sarna didn't mind, the only problem being that she would have to ruin the view by repeatedly slicing and tenderizing his athletic form.

"Let's go. Now, when you party with Fyrg's group, do you have any kind of strategies or do they just let you do your own thing?"

She deliberately walks in front of him and asks him either open questions or questions he has to elaborate on.

"They have strategies. I fill in gaps."

Goosebumps ripple across her skin. It's cold, but not that cold...

"I saw... That's an interesting, if not highly inefficient strategy. How do they know what you're planning? What stops you all from stumbling over each other?"

"Trust."

"That's a lot of trust going around. You may have earned it by helping them out from time to time, but what about you? How long have you known them?"

Their walk wasn't slow, neither of them wanting to be out in the cold. Sarna's question gave birth to a long pause, long enough to reach the tower. She blocks the way in, folding her arms across her chest and raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Unable to maintain eye contact he rubs the back of his head, letting the blanket drop from a shoulder, "I've watched them in the woods for over three years. But... we've only met four months ago."

Her lips part to say something, but nothing comes out and she scrutinizes the young man as he walks past her through the doors.

What the hell kind of answer is that?

Cleaned and dressed, River does his thing in the kitchen. Sarna is on the third floor, staring at Agmus Makamendius with an open book over his snoring face. A small pile of romance novels and a tipped over glass of something lay next to the day bed.

"Really, old man?"

She turns to fetch a towel, but River is already behind her with one. The low table next to the red velvet couch is burdened with dishes of food.

"Oh! Hey, why weren't you this fast when we sparred?"

He doesn't answer as he tidies everything up and covers Agmus Mak with a thin blanket. She just shakes her head and heads to the couch. River is about to plate Sarna's food for her, but she insists on doing it herself.

"Thanks, River, but I'm a big girl now, I can do it myself. Do you have your spare cards? Good. Why don't you bring up your parchment too so we can work on your deck while we eat?"

River sets a small, leather binder with the tulle pages and four cards on each page down next to her plate. With a mouthful of food, Sarna makes an impressed nodding gesture and opens it up.

She sends food down the wrong pipe, coughing and pounding her chest while River offers her some water and several pats to the back.

" I thought-- thanks-- I thought this binder was just for show "

The binders, though pricier than a simple paper box, were often used to display rare essences or just a few favorite cards. This way players could show them off without revealing their personal information or revealing cards they'd rather keep secret. There'd be at most two cards per page and flipping through each page would bring a sense of anticipation. Of the ten pages, all ten are full.

"These are all yours? Oh... up to tier four. I see. Still, this is quite the impressive amount. Wait-- they're all yellow stars and up!"

Yellow, or four star, essences mark the beginning of the uncommon types of cards: yellows and greens. So, just this small binder would equate to a fortune for the average person.

On average, a non-player worker could expect to earn two to three bits, or copper, an hour. Shifts are four hours long and, as long as there are shifts to work, people may choose to work as many as they can in the twenty four hour day.

"I see... the last six pages are all commons... Still, they're at least red, no single stars... a few doubles. What? No summons?"

He shakes his head with a pleased expression on his face. She doesn't sense any smugness so she beckons him to bring up his parchment.

"Usually, solo Casters have at least three summons to make up for the lack of a party. Tank, heal, and support types. I guess since you can act out all three roles plus damage dealer then you can do certain things on your own. Have you joined the adventurers guild?"

His eyes moving to the sleeping old man gave her his answer.

"They have freelance quests. Did you do any of those?" He nods emphatically. "Alright, alright. But I know those pay less since you're not a member..."

Sarna flips through the cards once more before closing the binder and sliding it back to him. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Somewhere deep within her mind, a scene plays out and she can't believe that she's switched roles with the speaker in that memory.

"These are all garbage. They have nothing to do with you or your particular style of fighting, working, or living. You took these cards off the market for what? To show them off? That was stupid and selfish and if you can't find a way to get your money back or trade them for different cards I'm going to slot them right up your ass. That way, they can at least act as a reminder to not do foolish things without consulting someone more experienced than you first."

Well, everything except for the threat part was pretty much word for word.

River's pleased expression drops like a greased rock. His jaw hangs unbelievably open.

"Furthermore, the only enchantments I want to see on your clothes will be Self-Repair and or Auto Fit until further notice. No armor, but you can use those weird knives for now."

The room is deathly silent after her tirade, until the sawing of Mak's sleep cuts the tension. Sarna sighs.

"Look, I know Agmus Mak is supposed to be retired and I'm sure he was probably too busy making your life a cleaning hell to guide you properly. However... as long as I'm here, I might as well teach you how to not die a horrible death due to your own stupidity. Okay?"

River nods solemnly, but an extra loud snore from Agmus Mak cuts into the mood.

Under the book, the old man hides a sly grin as he continues to pretend to be asleep.

"First things first..." She holds up a stack of blank cards she found under the red velvet couch, "Let's strip your deck down to essentials."