As Pobble’s consciousness retreated, Niall went to his Testimony. He took a moment to look through what his efforts over the past weeks had earned him.

TESTIMONY: Niall Vendra

ATTRIBUTES

Strength: 66

Endurance: 77

Agility: 50

Will: 47

Perception: 44

CLASSES:

Junior Smallholder 6

Apprentice Blacksmith 6

Healer 2

Hunter 6

Brawler 2

Militia 10

- Short sword 13

- Spear 14

- Shield 11

- Light armour 11

- Patrolling 9

- Field Camp 7

UNALLOCATED SKILLS:

- Flow 14

- Leadership 4

- Meditation 6

- Steelmind 12

- Telepathy 1

Satisfied with what he saw, he focussed on the Class part of his Testimony and concentrated as Pobble had instructed. As he did so, his Testimony expanded to fill his vision. The label that identified him as having a Militia Class hovered in front of him but the rest of his Testimony disappeared, leaving just the translucent shape of the background behind it. Then, as if a cloth had been sliced by a sharp knife, his Testimony split to reveal an arch leading to a space beyond.

Niall could make out a rough stone floor, but beyond that, a glow obscured any other details. Trusting that Pobble’s advice was sound, Niall tried to move. He intended to walk through the arch, but before his intention could transform into the action, the archway moved toward him. Niall tried to stop and the movement paused. Slower this time, he started to progress again. It was disorienting, but he put the discomfort to one side to prepare himself for whatever was through the archway.

It took a moment for Niall’s eyes to adjust, but he soon realised he was standing in a large cave, its grey stone walls rough and untreated. Despite being enclosed on all sides he could see, but it was unclear where the illumination emanated from. He took a lungful of the still air that filled the space and realised there was no scent to it, but neither was it stale.

Looking around the cave did not give him any insight into where he was. In front of him were four pools of water on the floor. The water was entirely still but they were lit from within. Behind him, the entrance to the cave was an impenetrable black.

Niall looked down to realise the clothes he had been training in had gone and, instead, he was in a long simple white robe. Beneath his feet he could feel the rough stone rubbing against his bare toes.

“Pobble?” Niall spoke the Fae shard’s name in his mind then paused.

There was no response and even the sense of Pobble that had sat at the back of his mind for so long now had disappeared.

“I hate to say it,” Niall said out loud, “But I kinda miss you, little guy.”

Niall walked over to one of the pools and looked down. His reflection looked back. No, not quite. He bent down and looked closer. The image in the reflection was still him but he was dressed in his full armour rather than the robe he was wearing now. His reflection gave him a wink, then the look on his face hardened and his image walked away, pulling on his helmet as he did so. The image expanded to show more and Niall saw himself walking along the walls of a town that was surrounded by a group of what he could only describe as goblins.

Defenders lined the walls and massed behind the closed gates. It was clear they were not professional soldiers, and Niall suddenly realised he was looking at the militia company for an unknown town.

Although Niall could not hear anything, he saw himself waving and shouting orders. Under his direction the militia moved smoothly into place and, after a quick glance all around, Niall raised his arm then brought it down with a swift chopping action. A flurry of arrows came from the few archers that were lined up on the wall then stopped as Niall gave another signal to open the gates. A short, intense battle broke out that ended with the goblin attackers lying dead or fleeing. Niall’s image had been calling out commands throughout to direct the members of the militia company to where they were needed. The victory secured, the grim look on Niall’s face relaxed. The battle had been won without him having to draw his sword. As Niall was surrounded by cheering villagers and townsfolk, the image in the water faded.

Still bent over the pool Niall noticed his Militia label pulsing more brightly. He looked at it again as he realised the label had changed from Militia to Militia Leader. It was clear what this meant. If Niall went down this path, he would be leaning into the Leadership aspects of what he had been doing during his training, to become better at managing and organising the people around him. Before he appeared at Camp Sedrum, Niall would not have described himself as a leader. However, having been thrust into the position he, now found it natural to tell his comrades what to do. This evolution would fit him well.

His brow furrowed in thought, Niall walked over to kneel beside the next pool. As he bent over it, his reflection gave him a nod before walking away. As the image pulled back, Niall looked at it in confusion. It was the same scene as before. He was walking along the walls of the same town that was surrounded by the same goblins. Members of the militia watched him as he passed, one or two patting him on the shoulder, or giving him a respectful nod as he walked.

This time, however, his reflection did not give any orders. Instead, he jumped down from the walls to land behind the village gates. He gave a nod to the militia who stood next to it. A man, who looked to be the leader, seemed to want to say something but, at a look from Niall, he shut his mouth and instead gave a signal. Again, the flurry of arrows came from above, but unlike the first time, only Niall stood behind the gate. At another signal, the arrows stopped and a sally port to the side of the main gates opened just enough for one man to slip out.

As soon as the door had cracked open enough to allow his body to pass, Niall headed out alone at a run. Behind him he heard the sound of the door slamming shut and the clunk of the bar being dropped into place. The goblins did not hesitate and charged towards him as soon as they caught sight of him. Niall crouched behind his shield and waited for them to approach. When they were within spear range, Niall attacked. His spear weaved between them leaving death in its wake and as Niall observed himself he felt that the movements were more reminiscent of Argon than they were of anything he had managed before. His spear snapped against the shield of one of the goblins but Niall simply pulled out his short sword and continued his dance of destruction.

Within minutes the goblin horde was decimated yet Niall did not stop. Cuts opened on his body as the goblin’s leaf-shaped blades got through, but it was not enough. Demoralised, in ones and twos, the goblins started to flee. That appeared to be a signal and the town gates opened wide to allow the main body of the militia to emerge to slaughter those few goblins who remained. Niall pulled his sword out of the corpse of a goblin then turned and walked back through the town gates as the militia streamed past and the image faded.

Niall looked to his label. This time it read Battle Militia. This evolution emphasised his combat skills and took account of all of the effort he was putting in to improve his fighting abilities. Given how much time he was already spending on combat training, this evolution would play to both his strengths and his interests. If he was scared of being weak in this world, this would ensure that few everyday threats would ever be a problem for him. But was violence truly the path that he wanted to pursue?

At the third pool, Niall’s reflection was back on the town wall once more. This time he took part in the attack as just another member of the militia. Niall scrutinised his own image. While he was fighting competently, it was not significantly better than his fighting ability today. The battle ended with a victory for the town that was not overwhelming, and certainly not without casualties.

Niall sat back on his heels as he looked into the pool and chewed the inside of his cheek. What was this? It didn’t make any sense. How was this an evolution to what he was doing today? He glared at the still water, then realised the vision had not yet faded. He pushed down his irritation and leant back over the pool.

The battle over, Niall walked over to where the wounded lay, tended to by a harassed looking priest. Niall propped up his spear and shield and then put his hands on the worst of the wounded. As he did so, the cuts started to close and colour returned to the villager’s face. The first person healed, Niall moved to the next. He kept going until every injured person lay breathing easily and the moons were lighting the sky. Then he stood, weariness etched on his face, alongside a look of deep satisfaction as the image faded out.

Niall glanced up to see Militia Healer {Merged Class with Healer} as his label. This skill harkened back to the effort he had expended to save Tate’s life. The priest in Low Vale had suggested he could become a fully-fledged healer if he wished. This, apparently, was confirming it, albeit that it appeared the healing would be most effective when he was dealing with injuries from a fight. Niall spent a long moment staring at the class. While extra combat capability was to be welcomed, the ability to heal better meant he would not have to fear injuries in the same way. Absent a catastrophe, he would be fine. Equally, he would not have to watch his friends die. If he had had this skill when he was in Low Vale, he might have been able to save Rafaela, Fangast and Mak.

Niall shook his head and moved over to the fourth pool. This time his reflection did not even look back at him. Instead, it was focussed on something Niall could not see. The image zoomed out and Niall realised that this vision had not started on the town walls. Here, his avatar was hiding up a tree next to the goblin camp. The goblins were raucous as they ate their dinner, carving bloody, barely-cooked hunks from a deer that roasted over the fire. Although Niall lay on a branch above them for almost an hour, none of the goblins had any inkling he was there. Eventually, carefully, silently, Niall inched backwards and shimmied down the tree. Once down. he took off through the forest, a ghost who used Soft Step to make barely a sound as he flitted back to the town.

When he arrived, he spoke with several squads of waiting militia, gesturing animatedly as he did so. His briefing complete, he headed out to the goblin camp once more, this time accompanied by a selection of the Militia. Half a mile out, he had them halt as he went ahead. The moons were now high in the sky and all the goblins were asleep, except for one that stood looking watchfully into the woods.

He never stood a chance.

Niall came up behind him, Soft Step rendering him silent. One hand clamped over the goblin’s mouth while the other drove a dagger deep into his back. The goblin’s eyes opened wide as he died but made no sound as Niall gently laid his body on the ground. That done he went back to the militia and led them to the goblin camp. Niall took part as a shadow, flitting in and out of the fight, occasionally firing an arrow to protect a comrade, occasionally turning up to thin out a clump of goblins before disappearing again. Everywhere and nowhere, but always where he was needed. The conclusion was bloody and swift. The image in the pool faded out as Niall led the victorious militia back to their village.

Niall looked up to see the Militia Scout label. This would be where his Tracking and Hunting skills would lead him. There was a strong draw to becoming the menace in the shadows. If he had the ability to hide and escape it would mean he would not even need to fight. Despite what he had learned and done, the thought of fighting and killing in the heat of battle was something he found hard to come to terms with. This might be the way out.

Niall stepped back from the pools and sat cross-legged on the floor of the cave. He closed his eyes and started to Meditate. As he replayed each of the options in his head, one started to resonate with him with increasing strength. He snapped his eyes open, as his path forward became clear to him. In a single movement he rose to his feet and headed to one of the pools. He knelt next to it, scooped up the water in his hands, and drank deeply.

The water tasted like, well, ordinary water. Niall waited for some change to pass through him, but there was nothing. The only difference was that his label no longer read Militia. Niall waited a few moments longer but still nothing happened. He shrugged and walked out of the cave to find himself still lounging on his back outside his tent.

He sat up. “How long was I gone?”

“No time at all,” Pobble replied. “That all happened in Niall’s head, literally at the speed of thought. While Pobble appreciates that Niall’s speed of thought is not as fast as it should be, it still does not take a long time. Now, doesn’t Niall want to see what he got?”