Taking her time to get back to the house after her morning training session with her new training master, Rían, Faye was surprised to find all three of the adventurers still sleeping. At least Ailith had the excuse of recovering. She wasn’t aware the others had been hurt.

But she didn’t want to wake them unnecessarily. That was just mean. Instead, she took the time to carefully change clothes into something warmer — avoiding pressing anything against her tender side.

Her workout gear was drenched in sweat. She had stopped wearing her old tank top from home, it was better off in the rags pile than on her at this point. Her hakama style trousers were still fine to wear, but she found herself wanting the heavier fabric of some trousers that Arran had brought out for her.

The thin, supple material of her trousers from home was great for lounging, well they were in warmer weather, but she found herself needing thicker material in this weather and that doubled up as being better protection when she sparred.

Either way, she slipped out of the trousers and pulled on the long woollen dress that she’d been given early into her time in Lóthaven. It was the perfect blend of practical and warm that she needed when she wasn’t training.

Making as little noise as she could, Faye started making breakfast, though she made sure to bang the pots and plates a few times as it was nearing being ready. The adventurers would hear and smell the food, and she figured it was a better way of being woken than any alarm clock.

Ailith managed to shuffle into the room on her own power. She grimaced as she came down the stairs.

“Ailith, what are you doing up?” Faye called, “I would have brought you something upstairs.”

“Ach, what are you talking about? I have to move around somewhat; I’ll heal all crooked otherwise.”

Faye scowled at the woman. “That is not true.”

“How would you know?” the woman shot back.

Faye sniffed and turned away. “Fine. Sit down, I’ll bring it over in a moment.”

“You know,” Arran called out as he came down the stairs himself, “I’m not sure that we should just be letting you get on with daily life after that stunt you pulled.”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” she said, mixing a small handful of herbs into the egg mixture she was frying.

“If that wasn’t a stunt, then we might need to redefine the word,” Ailith said, with a chuckle and groan at the pain. “From where we’re sitting… it was a mighty big risk.”

Faye shrugged. “Of course it was. You jumping out the gates without your armour to save a guard was a risk as well, wasn’t it?”

“Faye, that’s our job,” Arran said. He wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t already mentioned, so the heat was gone from his words.

They were rehashing the same discussion from the night before. Faye just dropped it. They didn’t seem to understand her desire to run out into the dangerous wilderness on her own, no matter how many times she explained it to them.

“How was yer morning training?”

Faye grunted, lifting her arm a little to expose her ribs, “Bastard jabbed me hard enough to crack a rib it feels like.”

“He could have done more than crack a rib,” Arran said, “he was holding back, then.”

“If you say so,” she said. The eggs were done, as were the sausages. She piled them onto plates, making sure to drop a smattering of the onion-like stalks of vegetables she’d found over the eggs.

“What’s this?” Ailith said.

“Eggs and sausages,” Faye said, “don’t tell me you don’t have scrambled egg here?”

“Arran usually boils them…” Ailith muttered, picking at the egg a little with her fork before lifting some to her mouth. She tentatively tasted it. Her eyes widened. “Which I have officially banned from the breakfast table.”

Arran scowled at her. “They’re good for you, a perfect breakfast. My father would always make us boiled eggs on the mornings.”

“Nothing wrong with ‘em boiled, true,” Faye said, diplomatically, easing into the gap between their burgeoning argument. “But this is a faster, slightly more open to experimentation, recipe. I’ve added some flavour.”

Arran had dug into his own plate.

“I can taste the herbs. I’ve never really known which ones to use.”

Faye grinned. He reminded her of plenty of young men she’d met throughout her university days. “You never will if you don’t use them.”

Gavan joined them after Ailith and Arran had already devoured two platefuls each. Faye had been strategically saving him a couple of portions, so that the mage wasn’t left out. He shaded his eyes as he sat at the table.

“Morning, sunshine,” Faye said, slipping the plate of eggs in front of him. “Here you go. Breakfast.”

Gavan simply groaned.

“What’s wrong with him?” Faye asked the others.

“Headache, probably,” Arran provided the answer. “He was using a lot of magic yesterday.”

Faye frowned. “Does using magic always result in a headache?”

“No, not always. It depends on a few things, not least of which is the mage themselves. Gavan’s always been prone to them, has been since the day we teamed up, anyway.”

Faye nodded. Leaving the groaning man to his breakfast then, Ailith went back to her room. She said she was fine, just that she wanted to get comfortable. Faye took that to mean she was going to lie down again. She didn’t blame her, to be honest.

Arran got Faye to follow him out into the courtyard.

“Gavan will be right in a while; he’s probably running low on mana still.”

“Mana powers magic, right?” she asked.

“Yes, it does. Spells are different from skills. Gavan and Taveon can tell you more, but I know the basics. Most adventurers do.”

They both picked up a wooden stave from the sheltered porch by the door.

Despite wearing the dress, which was belted quite high, she shrugged. The fabric would allow her the full movement she would expect from any martial art she performed. She would just have to leave out any high kicks.

“Might have to adjust my session today,” she said.

They worked through some movements together. Faye had continued teaching Arran everything she remembered about the staff, despite it not being her area of expertise. She had even had Ailith and Gavan join in every so often. The group exercise was fun, and it made her feel more ordinary when the others were learning from her.

“Okay, so skills,” Arran said, in the middle of their pattern. “The system uses skills as a template for controlling mana. Skills don’t use mana in the same way that spells do. I’m not sure exactly why. The difference between a skill and a spell is that spells are transferable.”

They spun around and started a portion of the movements that meant they stepped backward with each swing of the staves instead of forward. It was always a favourite of Arran’s.

“Transferable, like from person to person?” Faye asked.

“Exactly. Someone skilled in spellcraft can often create a scroll, tablet, or use some other medium, that carries the system instructions for a spell. The other person uses the scroll… and well, they learn the spell.”

They ended their pattern with a forward thrust of the staff. They held the position for a second or two, then Faye called for them to rest.

“Good, you’re getting better with that every time we do it. I can literally see your progress.”

“You’re a good teacher,” he replied. “Really.”

Faye grinned.

“He is half right,” came Gavan’s voice. They both turned to look at the doorway and the hunched mage.

“I told her I only know the basics, don’t blame me for getting something wrong.”

Gavan shook his head, carefully.

“The transfer process is not always successful. It is difficult. Very.”

“I’ve heard of people taking up to a dozen scrolls to learn even a basic spell,” Arran said.

Faye frowned. “Is that the only way of learning magic?”

“No.”

Smiling a little at Gavan’s grumpy face, she turned to Arran and raised an eyebrow.

“I cannot elaborate. He has spoken of it before, but I… didn’t listen.”

“Fool.”

“Weakling,” Arran retorted, with a laugh.

“Come on Faye, let’s carry on with our morning workout whilst this one recovers.”

Gavan ended up being in pain for much of the morning. He begged off training that morning, despite his strong desire for someone else capable in magic... and Faye's some-what serious complaints that he had promised her some magic lessons.

“If I could cast through this pain, I would,” he said.

Faye did feel bad for him. They left him to a darkened room with a cold rag across his forehead.

“Does he often get migraines?”

“Aye, especially after a lot of casting. I think he went a bit overdrawn, too.”

“Overdrawn?”

It was probably different to the overdraft Faye usually dipped into with her bank back home.

“It’s a dangerous thing,” Arran warned. “It is not something I think is possible for someone at your level.”

“Alright, I get it, danger, bad, don’t do it… now what is it?” she said.

“It’s using something other than mana to fuel the spell. Remember that I said skills use mana in a different way?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding and popping a piece of fruit in her mouth. It tasted light and refreshing, it was one of her favourite local foods.

“I was always taught that magic requires a lot of power, because you are often doing something against the natural laws. The system converts the mana you hold into the magic you cast.”

“Makes sense.”

“Overdrawing is when you use too much mana for a spell, and you also take some of the internal reserve of… life force, energy, or something,” he finished, a little lamely.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Faye replied, nodding.

He blinked. “But… well, I’m not even sure I get it myself.”

“It’s like going into debt, you temporarily borrow from another source. You have to pay it back, and usually with interest. I’m guessing that the headaches are the interest. If he wasn’t in pain, could he cast something?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Arran replied, looking at her strangely. “It’s still somewhat strange to see you grasp these things so easily. It took me longer to understand that when I was first taught it.”

Faye threw a piece of fruit at the man.

“That’s because you’re dumb and you keep forgetting that I have lots of experience to draw upon from my world. Sure, it’s not a one-to-one comparison, but it’s enough to understand what you’re saying.”

Faye thought a little more about the town and what she knew of the place. She had been here long enough that she felt she should know more than she did. She guessed that she had never really asked but it occurred to her that she knew very little about why Lóthaven existed out here, so far from others.

“Why is it that Lóthaven is all the way out… here, wherever here is?”

Arran shrugged. “I’m not sure why the original settlement was made, it’s actually quite old if the stories are true. But, in recent years, it was purchased by the Guild. Lóthaven serves as the region’s Guild outpost. It’s large enough that the locals used it as a focal point before the Guild moved in. Now, with the support we give the region from here, it’s basically the regional seat of power.”

“You mean the Guild rules the town?”

“Owns,” he said, raising a finger, “and operates most public services. Lóthaven is ruled from the capital, like the rest of the land.”

“Who rules, then? A king and queen?” she asked.

Arran smiled. “Like in the children’s stories? No, there haven’t been any royals in the capital for many years. There are noble houses, of course, but the royal line died out and hasn’t been revived. There is a Council.”

“Elected, I hope?” she said.

“Only by the nobles,” he replied. “They vote for their House leader and each leader sits on the Council. To really complicate matters, they’re only part of the whole thing. The Crafters, Scholars, Mages, and a few other influential classes formed cooperative groups. They have a powerful say in how things work, unofficially.”

“It was too much to ask for pure democracy, wasn’t it?” Faye said, smiling.

“Does pure democracy work, where you come from?” he asked. He drained the cup he’d been nursing.

“No,” she said, “not really. It’s hard to get everyone to vote. Even then, there are different voting systems and some of them are fairer than others.”

Arran shrugged. “The Council vote on things between them. At the end of the day, their direct influence only spreads so far. They have basically no say on the day to day running of Lóthaven, for example.”

Faye nodded, then she slapped the table and pushed herself up to her feet.

“Right, well, as lovely as this is, I think we’re in danger of falling asleep talking about politics—”

A knock at the door interrupted her words.

Maggie was standing at the threshold. Faye smiled at her, but shook her head a little.

“I thought you were coming over after work?” Faye said.

“Don’t worry!” Maggie said, “I’m still looking forward to that. Actually, I’m here because of work. The Administrator would like to speak with you, if you’re willing?”

Faye arched an eyebrow. It seemed much more polite than she had ever gotten from the officials before now.

“I don’t know. Am I willing?” she said.

Arran shouted through from the main room, “Yes, you are!”

Maggie nodded. “I would agree. I know that the way you were treated was bad, Faye, but she really is one of the people best placed to help you.”

Faye ground her teeth but let out a breath through her nose.

“Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The Administrator’s office was well furnished. It looked lived in, filled in. Faye was sure that this woman spent the majority of her time here. She idly wondered if she had a house and a family.

“Thank you for coming, Faye.”

Faye didn’t trust herself to speak yet, so she just nodded.

“I think I will cut to the heart of the matter, if you do not mind?”

She shook her head.

The Administrator nodded and pushed a few items on her desk around as if checking their alignment. She caught Faye’s eye and laid her hands flat on the table, stilling their movement.

“I understand that you are willing to sell your class information to the Guild.”

Is that really what she called me here to talk about?

“Yes.” No point lying about it.

Pulling a small tablet out of a drawer in her desk, the Administrator placed it between them.

“This tablet is a recording device. It will, when you place your hand upon it, withdraw the system information for your class. It’s a simple, painless, and quick process.”

She hesitated. Faye just waited, though she did fold her arms.

“The information that you are willing to sell is very valuable. I’m not sure if anyone has told you—”

“Oh, they told me that it’s worth a pretty penny.”

“I’m not sure I know what a penny is,” the Administrator said, “but I am certain it is worth more than a penny, even a very pretty one.”

Faye tried her hardest not to grin.

“I would have been worried if you said it wasn’t, honestly.”

“It would, I suspect, make you highly solvent. You wouldn’t need to worry about money for quite a while.”

“As long as I had more than two pennies to rub together…”

“You could hire a twenty of crafters to make twenty pennies, each month,” the Administrator replied.

Faye couldn’t help it, she laughed. The woman’s face fell.

“I’m missing something, I fear.”

“A penny is practically worthless,” Faye said. “Sorry, I was having you on. Well, I’m willing to sign on the dotted line if you’re willing to guarantee that I’m loaded for years.”

“Are you… saying those things intentionally?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

The Administrator breathed in and out, somewhat slowly. Faye’s grin didn’t fade. She moved forward and rested her hands on the table. She looked into the woman’s eyes.

“Listen, I happen to believe in sharing knowledge. That’s the main reason I’m doing this. Getting paid is a nice second reason. Give me another one.”

“I will apologise.”

Faye raised an eyebrow. “That’s probably not worth as much as you think, being that—”

“Hold on,” she interrupted. “I meant that I would apologise publicly. I will announce that you have been suffering from an unfortunate system error that has stripped you of levels. A fate that many whisper about in their darkest moments. They will believe it, when I tell them.”

Faye frowned. “What is in it for me?”

“I think it’s clear that you are not what you seem at first glance. You are stronger than you look, for one. If your attributes were really as low as what my analysis tells me, you’d have been killed outside the walls. Or there’s something else about you that interferes with the way this all works.”

The Administrator leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees.

“Faye, I say this in earnest. I had no idea what you were when you first turned up here. I learned absolutely nothing from my contacts elsewhere in the Guild. For weeks, you have been an enigma wrapped inside a mystery. A bottomless pit of darkness that no information escapes from.”

“Was it really too much to ask that you treat people with respect until you do know, then?”

The Administrator shrugged. “It’s not the way things are. It may seem harsh to you. Indeed, it seems harsh to some of those who live here. But then they remind themselves that there is only so much to go around, only so many people that will get the help they need to escape the drudgery of a basic class. Then they rein in their bleeding hearts and do what they know they have to, to survive.”

“Doesn’t make their decisions right.”

“Doesn’t make their decisions wrong, either. You might not understand us, Faye, but what I can assure you of is that we definitely do not understand you.”

Faye straightened up and paced a little inside the office. The floor was covered by a nice rug, she noticed.

“Look, whatever. You still treat people like garbage and expect it all to go away? What’s in it for me if you announce I lost levels?”

“They will realise that you aren’t a layabout beggar looking to take something from their children’s, or their own, hands. But, most of all, they will know that you are different. Just not… how different.”

Ah, and here is the truth of things.

“You caught that, then.” Faye grimaced. She had not meant to let that slip, but that spell had affected her in strange ways.

“Yes. I was surprised enough that I wanted to research a few things first.”

“What did you find out, then?” Faye asked. “Not met any more otherworlders, have you?”

The Administrator’s eyes flickered, and Faye thought she caught a slight smile.

“No, I dare say I have not. Otherworlders are incredibly rare, Faye; especially here. Most of what I learned was hearsay. I think it is more interesting to learn from you directly. For starters, how did you get here, to Lóthaven?”

Faye shrugged. “Tripped over something and the notification asked if I wanted to use something. I was about to get skewered by something else—” she shivered at the thought, “so I screamed ‘Yes!’ in my head and wound up in the square.”

The Administrator nodded, as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

“We thought you had somehow stumbled across one of the stones. I presume, then, that the previous owners are deceased.”

Faye nodded. “I think I saw them. Not sure, mind, on account of the almost skewering, but yes. I think so.”

The Administrator nodded. Then she held out a hand and indicated the chair Faye had been resolutely ignoring. “Why don’t you sit down? We have a lot to talk about.”

“I hope you know that I'm missing something extremely important and exciting to be here in this room with you. You said something about payment, I'll be adding my time here to that. Also, if you stuck me with Rían as some kind of misguided attempt to control or punish me, your name will be permanently inscribed on my shitlist.”

“As I said,” the Administrator said, with a sigh, “a lot to talk about.”