The day before they were to be discharged Niall sat outside the Scryers offices waiting to be seen. There was a surprising amount of administration involved in leaving, but this was the last thing before the ceremonial dinner to mark their last night.

“Patrol Leader Vendra?”

Niall stood and followed the Scryer into the examination room. The Scryer sat back down and waved Niall to a chair. “Please sit, sit. No need to stand on ceremony.”

The Scryer picked up a file with Niall’s name on and began to flick through it. “So, you came in with somewhat low physical abilities alongside an Apprentice Blacksmith and a Smallholder class. Perfectly fine, perfectly fine. Today we just want to see that you have reached level 2 in your Militia class. It would be lovely of course if you had managed to get another level or two as well – we live in dangerous times after all – but don’t you worry about that. Given where you started, just getting to level 2 would be an excellent achievement. Any questions?”

“No,” Niall said. He knew what his levels were and was interested to see the Scryer’s reaction.

The Scryer put his hand on either side of Niall’s head. Without Pobble blocking, the reading went more smoothly than the first time.

The Scryer spoke out loud as he read Niall. “Your Blacksmith and Smallholder classes haven’t changed. No surprises there. Oh naughty, naughty, I see you have another level in Brawler. Someone has been getting into unauthorised fights I see. Oh, and will you look at that, you have a Healer class now as well. Level 6 no less. Well done. Lots of accidents in your Militia company to help you on your way no doubt.”

The Scryer opened his eyes and looked at Niall. “Do you know how impressive that is? You were an Acolyte Healer when you arrived. To have pushed through into a Level 7 Healer in just six months is incredible, particularly as you were not focussing on Healing. Obviously, each Level you earn is harder to get, but after level Level 10 you would evolve into a Master Healer. I don’t know how long it took you to get to Level 6 in Apprentice Blacksmith, but given your age I would guess it was slower than six months. Maybe Blacksmithing isn’t where your talents lie. If you want, I can put you in touch with the Army Healing Corps, there would be a good living for you there away from the front lines. They always need people.”

Niall gave him a smile as he thought of the contacts he already had in the Healing Corps. “Thank you, but I’ve done my time in the military, I just want to get home.”

The Scryer shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind let the recruitment office know. Right, on with it then.” He shut his eyes again. “You’ve also picked up a few levels of levels as a Hunter. Don’t know how you got that while you were here on training but I’m sure you’ll put them to good use back in your village. Now onto the main event.” The Scryer opened his eyes and looked a Niall. “Oh, that’s a little disappointing, you only have Spear 5 and Short Sword 3. I would have thought you could do better than that. But you’ve scraped in with Militia 2, so job done.”

“Pobble, are you messing with what the Scyer is seeing?” Niall thought to the Fae shard.

“Pobble is just blocking him from seeing the Steelmind and Telepathy Skills, the Scryer is just being careless.”

“Actually,” said Niall out loud. “I don’t think that’s quite right.”

The Scryer puffed up with self-importance. “I have been doing this for fifteen years Patrol Leader. I think I know how to read a simple militia fighter.”

“I wonder if you might look again, Sir,” Niall said.

The Scryer rolled his eyes then shut them to examine Niall again. “Fine. I’ll have another look. Just as I...” The Scryer’s voice trial off. “Wait, that can’t be right...but that would mean...that’s just not possible.” He opened his eyes and his voice changed as he looked at Niall curiously. “Would you mind waiting here a moment. I just need to speak with someone.”

A few moments later, the senior Scryer Niall had seen the first time he was there swept in, again ignoring Niall and speaking the whole time. He put his hands on Niall head. “So what is the issue? Blacksmith and Smallholder background. Low level but typical. Full Healer, good. Hunter, splendid. Elite Militia Warrior, level 2, oh good show young man. Good show. Master Level weapon Skills as well, marvellous.

“What’s the issue, Carruthers? This cohort of militia were at the Battle of Deerhead pass. What did you expect? They’ve been coming through all day. You must have only just come on duty. This chap has a second evolution which is rare, but he’s not the only one. No sir he is not. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

“One of them, forget her name, reached level four. In six months. Six months I tell you. Now that was worth seeing. Impressive. Dammed impressive. Anyway, all normal here. Process him and carry on.”

With that, the senior Scryer swept out.

As the army Scryer finished his work Niall pulled up his Testimony himself and looked through it properly while focussing on the changes that had taken place over the last few weeks.

TESTIMONY: Niall Vendra

ATTRIBUTES

Strength: 137

Endurance: 138

Agility: 95

Will: 72

Perception: 90

CLASSES:

Junior Smallholder 6

Apprentice Blacksmith 6

Healer 6

- Battle Trauma 5

- Healing Cradle (Lead) 9

- Major Healing 8

- Minor Healing 10

- Cleansing Burst 4

- Stabilise 3

Hunter 6

Brawler 3

- Throw a punch 5

- Take a punch 4

Elite Militia Warrior 2

- Battle Militia 10

- Spear Master 5

- Short Sword Master 3

- Final Strike 3

UNALLOCATED SKILLS:

- Flow 20

- Leadership 6

- Meditation 8

- Steelmind 12

- Telepathy 1

The new Healer skills of Stabilise and Cleansing Burst were ones he had spent time practising since he had come back to camp. Using Master Healer Falen’s name had opened the door to the main army Infirmary and allowed him to swap a few guard shifts for Healing shifts. He had used that time to consolidate his understanding of those new skills and, as he had expected, he was now able to lead the formation of Healing Cradles.

He winced as he looked at the extra level in Brawler. That had come about from his fight with Stefan and, while he had come to some kind of peace with what he had done, the Class was a reminder of the killer he had become.

The Elite Militia Warrior class and the Skills underneath it brought a smile back to his face. He had seen the improvements from the Class and the Skills in his training sessions back at Camp.

From what he understood, there were four of them that had gained Elite Militia Classes. He, Lupa and Killip had gained the Elite Militia Warrior Class while Huff had gained an Elite Bulwark Militia Class from the times he had held the centre of the line while Niall attacked around him. It came with a shield Skill that appeared to be similar to the one Argon and his comrades used.

Whatever Elite Class they had gained though, the fighting skills of the four of them were well ahead of the rest of the Militia Regiment. The few days back at camp had allowed him to quickly and smoothly engage Final Strike while incorporating it into his fighting style. In fact, in training, it soon became clear that all four of the Elite Militia were able to defeat the majority of the regular soldiers, at least those who had not spent time actually fighting on the front lines.

There had been no further changes since he had arrived back at the camp. Nonetheless, he was more than happy with the level of his Attributes, Classes, and Skills. Anyone who could scry him would not be surprised by how low they were. In fact, they would be likely to give him a wide berth, his weapon skills and physical abilities were well above what a civilian would be expected to have.

He swiped his Testimony away and, just as he was about to leave the Scryer’s room, there was a knock on the door.

“Come,” said the Scryer.

A young man in the uniform of a camp runner entered. “Patrol Leader Vendra?”

Niall nodded.

“Here you go, Sir.” The runner handed him a letter then saluted to both of the men and walked out.

“Do you mind if I open this?” Niall asked the Scryer.

“Go ahead. We are done here.”

Niall walked out of the Scryer’s office and opened the note. It was short. “Patrol Leader to report to Captain Chandris office, North East 5. 6th bell today.”

Niall narrowed his eyes. He had not seen any sign of Lord Chandris since he had brought Champion Aketeon out to them when they were at Forward Camp Glaive. A summons to see him did not bode well. He shrugged. If that was the case, there was nothing he could do so he would have to report and see what Lord Chandris wanted.

As the 6th bell began to strike Niall rapped on Lord Chandris’ door.

“Enter.” The voice that replied managed to combine condescension and boredom in just one word.

Niall opened the door and then paused before he entered. The fact that Lord Chandris was sitting inside behind a desk was what he had expected. He did not expect to see Killip Transven standing behind him though.

Following their altercation Niall and Killip had largely been ignoring each other throughout the rest Militia training. On occasion Niall would feel eyes on him and, when he turned, more often than not, it would be Killip looking at him speculatively. Nonetheless, while Killip and his toadies had taken every opportunity to sneer at Niall and the others before they had left for the front, after they had returned from the Battle of Deerhead Pass, there had been a new bond amongst the surviving militia and all overt unpleasantness had faded away.

Despite the cease in hostilities Niall did not trust Killip. Even though there was no way to prove it, he was certain the other man had not only conspired to kill him but was in the pay of the Bulvine so it was not a pleasant surprise to see him there. Niall did not pause for long, instead he walked into the office and saluted Lord Chandris.

Lord Chandris did not bother to stand or return the salute before he spoke. “Ah, Patrol Leader Vendra. At ease. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“So, this is your last night at Camp Sedrum? Back to Raintor tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You have come a long way from when I saw you at Smith Devon’s place all that time ago.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

“I hope you do not mind Patrol Leader, but I have been keeping an eye on your progress while you have been here. After all, because of you I had to wear last season’s outfit to the spring ball.”

“I am sorry about that, Captain.” Niall could see Killip bristling with anger as Lord Chandris casually brought up the fight that had led to the other man’s family being brought to the verge of ruin.

Niall brought his attention back to Lord Chandris who had carried on talking. “No matter. A little humility is good for the soul, is it not? I used the money to buy a new matched pair for my carriage so no harm was done in the end. Anyway, that’s not why I brought you here. Now, tell me, what do you know about our bandit problem.”

“Nothing, Sir.”

“Of course, how silly of me. At Raintor, you will have been insulated from all of that. Well one of my roles is to keep our borders free from bandits. While our borders are safe, the bandits’ attacks on the frontier towns beyond our protection have been getting worse. Coupled with the Bulvine attacks they are not in a good way and, as a result, Boarwell has asked to become part of the Duchy of Lanton and come under the umbrella of our protection. Of course we said ye;, who are we to refuse our friends help? To that end, I am putting together a group of fighters to create a border patrol. That is where you come in.”

“Sir?”

“You have proven to be surprisingly effective at this army business, Patrol Leader. Your efforts to deal with the dire wolf problem were impressive enough, and I thoroughly enjoyed your exhibition bout with Champion Aketeon. He is still thoroughly salty about that you know. However, in addition, my little birdies tell me you also performed with distinction in the Battle of Deerhead Pass. That sort of talent should not be allowed to waste away so, as a result, I am honouring you with the position of second in command of this border patrol under Corporal Transven, or Border Captain Transven as he will shortly be. It will mean a promotion to Sergeant for you with all of the remuneration and benefits that accompany it. You can have a month back in Raintor to help with the harvest then head off to get to Boarwell before the snows. Any questions?”

Niall did not need to take any time to think about it. “I’m very sorry sir, but I’m not really cut out to be a full-time fighter. I will have to respectfully decline.”

Lord Chandris looked at him with unblinking eyes. “No? Are you really turning me down? I’m not sure that you understand, Patrol Leader. This is a position that I, as your future Duke, am asking you to take on. You would have my personal gratitude.”

Even though Lord Chandris said the words in a light tone, Niall could feel the ice behind them. Nonetheless, he held firm. “I am humbled to be considered Lord Chandris, but I’m just an Apprentice Blacksmith. I have to say no.”

Lord Chandris’ eyes turned flinty. “Well, I have to say I am very disappointed Vendra. I won’t keep you any longer. That will be all.”

Niall saluted and backed out of the room. He glanced at Killip as he did so. He could not tell if the look Killip returned was satisfaction or annoyance, but he did not stay to find out. Once Niall had shut the door and had exited the building, he stopped and took a deep breath. He was sweating. That was not what he had expected and he could only hope Lord Chandris was too busy to remember he had thwarted his will.

Niall put the interview with Lord Chandris from his mind as he walked back to his own barracks to get ready for that evening’s ceremonial dinner. There were more important things to do. Time to test that Endurance Attribute against the best alcoholic beverages that this camp could provide.