Faye opened the door to the adventurer’s house and gestured for the older man to enter first. Taveon stepped across the threshold somewhat gingerly. Faye chivvied him inside with a gentle push.

“Come on, it’s freezing, you’re letting the heat out!” she said, which finally made him step through fully and into the warm embrace of their living room. She followed along close behind and firmly closed the door. She stood her two swords against the wall by the door.

Faye realised that her three friends had all turned to watch them enter. Though Ailith was grinning, Gavan looked a little green around the gills still. At least he was no longer hiding away in the dark.

“Taveon, I’m sure you know these three already?” Faye said, pointing at them as she came to stand closer. “Gavan, I hope you’re feeling better.”

He nodded. “Ah, yes, I do. I’m… ah. Well, Faye invited me in.”

Faye paused. She looked at the adventurer’s faces, and then at Taveon’s.

“Awh, damn, I embarrassed you. You’re not being rude. I told you to come inside,” she turned to the adventurers. “Look, it’s not his fault, I’m the one that made him come in.”

Arran had stood when they had first entered and how he held out his hand and pointed at a spare seat. “Please, Taveon, take a seat. Welcome.”

“I — well, it was, uh…” Taveon spluttered.

Faye was amused, she would never have expected the man to be so tongue-tied. “Is it really a problem that I invited you here?”

“Well, no, I just… this is not how things are done where I was born, to be honest with you, and it took me aback for a moment.”

“But I live here too,” Faye said, looking at the others with a smile. “Thanks to these three, of course, but I told you to enter.”

Taveon nodded. He stepped further into the room and smiled at the others.

“Yes… silly of me, really. But in my old age, I think I’m just not used to… well.”

Turning to Arran with a glare, Faye jerked her hand at the man.

Arran frowned in confusion, but when she repeated the movement, he started blurting out words of welcome.

“Don’t worry, Taveon, we don’t stand much on formality here. Truly, you are welcome.”

“Actually, it was Taveon’s idea to come and ask for your help,” Faye said. She was sure that getting them back onto the idea that had brought them here in the first place would bring the old man back to his usual self. “Something about a field test and magic.”

Taveon’s usual demeanour inched back onto his face.

“Ah, yes! We need to see what happens when Faye dispatches a monster.”

Arran shrugged. “That seems easy enough. She was doing it alone the other night, it should be safer with us there.”

Ailith frowned. “I disapprove.”

“Well, it’s just that without her gaining experience—”

“I cannot leave the house, let alone the town, my healing is not yet complete. I disapprove because I want to be there.”

Taveon snapped his mouth shut. “Ah.”

“How much experience does she need?” Gavan asked, his words even more sombre than usual.

Faye looked to Taveon for the answer, it was a good question. It would presumably change what he planned.

“Oh, not a lot at all. A single kill would allow her to access the system, it has every time before from what she has said.”

Arran stood suddenly. As he went to a small chest at the side of the room, he said, “Well, if we’re taking her outside the walls again, then now is the best time to give you this.”

He turned back with a sheathed dagger. The sheath was a red leather, the point of the scabbard protected with a metal cap, and the mouth of the scabbard matched the metal at the tip. The grip was a wired handle, that felt right in her palm as she accepted it from Arran’s outstretched hands.

“This is for you, from the three of us,” Arran said. “I’m sorry that you did not have it before.”

“You already gave me a dagger,” she said, without taking her eyes from the clearly well-made weapon in her hands. “But this…”

The pommel was round, like a coin, the circumference small enough to fit in the centre of her palm perfectly. Drawing the blade, she saw that it was a double-edged dagger with a point that met in the centre of the blade, a sharp and deadly tip designed for thrusting. The top of the handle had a small guard, quillons emerging from either side to protect her hand when she used it.

It reminded her somewhat of the daggers special forces would use. This was a fighting knife, a dagger that was designed for that one task.

“You can probably already tell that this is different from the other one,” Arran said. “Though, without your system, you won’t be able to tell why.”

“It’s enforced,” Ailith said. “The enchantment is permanent, but it will need a recharge after extended use, as with most weapons.”

“Enchantment?” Faye asked in wonder, “You got me a magic dagger?”

Arran and Ailith grinned. Gavan was a little more serious, as usual, but she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes, too.

“Yes, though we picked it up months ago — a reward for a mission request,” Arran said. “If we can’t always be with you, we want to be sure that you have something up to the task of defending yourself… no matter what you might come across here.”

Taveon was standing politely still, but Faye saw him casting his eye over the dagger. It was truly a magnificent gift, Faye knew, and she handed it off to the older man to look over.

“It’s too much, I—”

“We have a tradition of giving gifts at major milestones in a person’s path through the system,” Ailith said, interrupting her. “Getting your first class is a big achievement, Faye. We wanted to do this.”

Faye bowed her head a little, willing the tears to stay unshed. They were going the extra mile for her almost every day. She had to wonder what they were getting out of it.

“Really, the knife you took into the woods is barely fit for the task,” Arran said. “Once again, I’m sorry that you only had it and your training sword…”

Faye waved a hand in the air. “It’s done.”

“This,” Taveon said into the quiet gap, “is an exquisite dagger.”

Faye accepted it back from him, turning it in her hands.

“Will her class skills work with the dagger?” Ailith asked. “I’m not sure about her class, but with some of the Guardian skills, I have to use particular weapons or equipment.”

Taveon nodded. “That is a common restriction on skills, particularly when they are somewhat stronger skills than ordinary. I haven’t read a complete account of the Swordfighter’s skills, but I think it is safe to assume that they will work… albeit in a somewhat reduced state.”

“Reduced?” Ailith asked.

“Indeed, perhaps they will be less effective, less powerful, or have effects altered slightly. It’s rare for a skill that is specific to equipment to work with things that are not listed, but almost universally they are weaker when they do.”

Makes sense to me, she thought.

“So, if I need to switch to a knife in the middle of a fight, I’d be okay?”

“It’s a dagger,” Arran said.

Taveon held up a finger, “Exactly, that is often an important distinction.”

“What?”

“A knife is a tool,” Arran said. “A dagger is decidedly a weapon.”

“Hmm, just so. If you are trying to use a combat skill with a knife, you are at risk of the skill not activating and you will lose the energy expended without the effect taking root. Of course, until we test there is no guarantee that you will be able to use your class skills with daggers… your class is swordfighter, after all.”

Faye frowned. Would it really matter?

“That brings up something else,” Arran said. He picked up his own sheathed sword from its customary place by the door. “I am a Duellist, yes? That means that I have many class skills related to combating enemy duellists. Whilst my class is in some technical sense a close cousin of the Swordfighter, it’s not quite as simple as saying I only have a different focus.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Faye said. “You’re a sword fighter, but your class doesn’t mean you have to be?”

“In some ways, yes.”

“There have been recorded Duellists that have used other weapons,” Taveon said. “They almost certainly were using an altered class, however. The majority of Duellists must use a blade.”

“The key thing,” Arran said, “is that we have to choose a weapon that is fit for purpose.” He drew his sword, which was almost like a sabre with a less pronounced curve. “This blade fits well with my style, but it’s not the only one I could use. A rapier, for example, is a common Duellist’s blade.”

Faye nodded.

“I wouldn’t be able to take up a greatsword and expect my skills to work, though.”

She narrowed her eyes and glanced aside to Taveon. “Because the greatsword isn’t really a one-on-one fight kind of weapon?”

Taveon nodded.

“Exactly,” Arran said, but he also paused and sheathed his sword. “Then again, there are some Duellists that get away with unconventional sword types, too.”

“Personal belief plays an important role,” Taveon said. “There are parts of the world that use strange punching daggers as their chosen duelling weapon and have for thousands of years. That tradition has meant that Duellists from that land are forced to use those weapon types. They cannot wield a sword.”

“The day is growing shorter,” Gavan said, after the old man’s words.

Arran looked to the shutters over the windows and nodded.

“He’s right, we should get prepared and leave now if we want to test your theory, Schoolmaster.”

“I am ready,” he simply said.

Faye rushed to change into clothing appropriate for fighting, her new gift securely fastened to her belt.

As Faye, Taveon, Arran and Gavan left the house arrayed in their fighting gear a grumpy Ailith loudly complained as they got ready to leave without her. Apparently, there were certain things that even magic couldn’t heal in the snap of your fingers.

“I noticed you brought your own sword home,” Arran said. “How did you convince the Administrator to give it back?”

“It was part of her payment to me for the class information,” Faye replied. She shrugged. “At this point, it’s about as useful as this wooden blade. I think this one might actually be better, anyway. I wanted it back for purely selfish reasons.”

“You will need a steel blade at some point,” Arran said. “Let’s see what we can learn about your system before you make any decisions about what you want to purchase, though. There are certain enchantments that, whilst expensive, are invaluable when away from town.”

“So, Faye,” Taveon said. “You are looking to take up the adventuring life?”

Faye nodded. That was something that the Administrator had offered.

“I think Arran’s going to get a request for an office chat, soon, actually. The Administrator offered for me to be attached to the team as an apprentice as a way to speed up my training. Something about ‘nurturing talent’. Honestly, she was just buttering me up.”

Arran rolled his eyes but shrugged and said he would deal with the official aspect when it came up.

“Are you prepared for the life an adventurer leads?” Taveon asked. “It can be tough, especially on one new to the profession.”

“It’s better than sitting doing nothing,” she replied.

He went silent for long enough that they trudged through the streets and reached the gate. It was the same one she had sneaked through the other night.

The guards there almost looked like they wanted to prevent Faye from leaving, but with the combined weight of Arran, Gavan, and, especially, Taveon’s presence they were easily persuaded to let her go.

“Things would be so much simpler if everyone stopped caring so much about what I am doing,” Faye said.

“You’re a fresh classed, and with an uncommon first class at that,” Arran said, grinning at her. “I think it will take something truly extraordinary for the townsfolk to forget about you.”

“Combat classes are always valued,” Taveon added. “Because it is a dangerous world, and it is those with the power to destroy that are key to the protection and survival of the human race.”

There was something profound in that, Faye was sure.

“I’m sure that’s something people argue about,” she said, instead. “But it makes sense. You can’t do much of anything if a tiger’s eating your face.”

“What’s a tiger?”

“Like a chénnail, but much bigger, covered in orange and black stripes, and with a more normal neck.”

The others seemed surprised she knew what a chénnail was; apparently, they had a somewhat interesting folklore surrounding them.

As they entered the forest south of town, Taveon started up an explanation of magic.

“Magic,” Taveon said, “is an external representation of will. Fortunately, we have the system to guide us. Without its help, magic would be virtually impossible to codify, and what one mage could do versus another would be as numerous as the stars in the sky.”

He held up his left hand, fingers curling around to snap. At the very moment his finger slapped into his palm, a small flame snapped into being, hovering above his fingers.

“However, even without the system’s guidance, there are things that an accomplished mage can achieve that takes great practice. What you, and most people, start with is the former. System-assisted spells that are well understood.”

“Umm, magic is magic is magic and I have been fascinated with it ever since being a kid, really,” she replied. “I will learn whatever you want to teach.” Taveon’s question had been somewhat rhetorical, she knew, but at the same time she didn’t care what he taught her, as long as he taught her something.

“Magic isn’t all the same, Faye,” Taveon cautioned, his voice gentle. “There are many applications of magic, and there are scholars and mages that will attempt to categorise spells further beyond that which the system tells us, too. However, to keep it simple, let us stick to common system terms.”

Faye nodded.

“Most commonly, there are targeted spells. These are simple, require a target other than yourself, and run the gamut from destructive fire spells to healing spells that knit wounds closed. There are many variations. It’s often easier to think of these in broad categories. Often, there is a damage type, a damage value, an attack type, and a cost. Let us take a common spell for an example.”

Here, Taveon paused in his stroll. He looked around the path they were still following.

“I think there is a clearing just here,” he said, then ploughed through the undergrowth. They easily followed. “Indeed, there is! Master mage, if you wouldn’t mind demonstrating for us?”

Taveon had indicated a large tree trunk before them, lit somewhat by rays of light lancing down through the foliage.

Gavan nodded. With barely a whisper, his outstretched hand caused a small dart of fire to materialise and launch forward, blasting into the bark of the tree at high speed. The impact caused a small flash of flames, which marked the tree trunk, and a concussion force that threw splinters aside.

Taveon nodded in approval.

“Good. Now, Faye, the spell that Gavan used was a common Fire Dart. It is a low-level spell that many combat mages purchase early in their life. It’s a high damage, high speed projectile that has both physical and fire properties. As you saw, its flight path was relatively straight. Once more, please, Gavan.”

A second dart flew from his outstretched hand.

This time, Faye caught the flash of its path across the clearing. It was straight, but she noticed that there was a slight arc.

“It dips, slightly. Over longer distances, do you have to take gravity into account?” she asked.

Gavan cocked his head, and Taveon just shook his.

“No, it is not affected by weight. However, the nature of the dart is to fly in non-perfect lines. This is what is thought of as the attack type. When practising this spell, a mage will intuitively learn the paths the darts are likely to take. Once learned properly, the mage can predict with great accuracy where his dart will land.”

Without pointing, Taveon called, “Right hand side rock, left hand boulder, second lower limb!”

In quick succession, Gavan snapped out his hands — both of them, as if he were throwing the darts — and three Fire Dart projectiles slammed into the targets the Schoolmaster had called.

Taveon grinned. “Very good! So, our young mage has made good use of his practise. He hit each target easily and quickly.” Taveon turned to Arran. “Isn’t he supposed to be your team’s healer?”

Arran smiled wryly. “Yes, but what he practises on his own is his business. He’s as good with his healing as he is with that dart, believe me. He fills a range of magical roles.”

Taveon nodded. “I am sure of that.”

“Okay, so the cost, you mentioned,” Faye asked, “must be pretty low for that spell?”

“Yes,” Gavan said. “Very low.”

“Cost is something that is highly variable for the user, Faye,” Taveon added. “Most classes will have cost-reducing measures. Common methods are flat reductions across all skills of a single type or heavy reductions for a single, or small number, of spells that increase costs for other, less common, skills.”

Faye nodded. It sounded complex.

“How much of that do I need to remember before a spell will work?”

Taveon blinked, and Gavan smiled.

“Uh, none of it, really.”

Taveon took the bundle of scrolls from earlier out of his bag. He untied the twine a little and pulled one scroll out.

He handed it out to her.

“Here, let’s see what happens.”