The next morning, Faye woke to the quiet of the house. There were no sounds, and by the barely visible light she knew it was early morning still. So, what had woken her?

She laid still for a while, resting her arm across her forehead. She had meditated late into the night. It had helped push back the feeling of being trapped she had sensed creeping over her.

It’s better, today, she thought.

Checking that internal pool of energy that Taveon had told her to focus on, she could sense the mana. It was odd. When people use words, you automatically make assumptions about what the thing is from those words. Faye knew that her mental image of a pool of water was simply because that was the first thing that had popped into her head when they had all been talking.

But, as she probed the full pool of mana inside her, she sensed something odd and not quite bound by any experience she had had before. The pool was almost a sphere. A globule of energy that rested inside — but also not physically inside — her body.

Putting her mental hands on the surface of that globule of energy told her a few things. It wasn’t solid, liquid, or gaseous. It was something else.

It at once chilled, burned, electrified, and enervated. It was blindingly bright yet shrouded in umbra.

It was the very stuff of reality and all the things she was incapable of imagining at once, infinite and yet definite.

Mana was power. Raw unadulterated power.

That much, she could tell. Its power seeped through her as she laid still with her eyes closed, letting out even breaths. That mana was not contained only in her globule of power, but it was spread throughout her body and limbs.

The moment she realised she could, only just, sense the faint threads of mana elsewhere, a thump from upstairs broke her concentration.

Her eyes snapped open.

“Dammit,” she muttered.

That was the closest she had come to truly sensing whatever it was Taveon had told her she needed to sense. Even still, the system wasn’t rewarding her with anything.

“Urgh, if I have to murder some poor rabbit every time I need to learn something, I’m going to accrue an awful reputation.”

A little while later, after Faye had gotten off her makeshift bed and stretched the night’s aches away, Arran came downstairs.

“Morning,” he said.

“It’s still dark. Up for a light spar?” she said, by way of greeting.

He grinned and nodded. Of course he was.

Their morning sparring had become something of a wake-up method for them both. Faye had been in desperate need of something to brush sleepy cobwebs away from her mind. The fatigue she always felt in the morning had been particularly rough without caffeine.

Once more she lamented finding herself in a place that had cultivated neither the coffee bean nor the tea leaf.

As Faye swung her staff around to sweep at Arran’s feet, he planted his staff and pushed himself up into a sidekick, tucking his left leg in, extending the right in what could be a vicious blow to Faye’s face or chest.

He pulled the kick, landing lightly over her staff.

“Nice work,” she said.

Arran grinned. “Hah, I actually gained a basic proficiency in the staff for that!”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“You are a good teacher, you know,” he said. “It’s not a class skill for me, which is good, but I have the feeling that if I worked toward it, it could be.”

“Oh, really? You can tell that?” They put their staves in the barrel they used for training weapons. Faye wiped her face down with a rag and took a draught of water.

“Yeah,” Arran replied. “It’s an instinct, for me. I could tell that training the staff wouldn’t be a part of the class. That’s why it took so long, anyway. Your class generally gives you a bonus to learning related skills. But, now that I have it, I could develop it into something the class would recognise if I wanted to spend the time, and point, on it.”

“Oh, right, a skill point?”

“Mhmm,” Arran murmured, nodding. He held the door open for her, and she ducked back inside. “Yeah, the skill points you get when you level are rare. It’s hard to use them accidentally, but even so, you should be careful about wasting them.”

Faye nodded, sounded like good advice. “Okay, so what can I use them for?”

Arran spread his hands. “There’s a lot they can be used for. What most people end up doing, though, is evolving a skill.”

“How does it work?”

As they chatted, Faye pulled some of their remaining fruits and bread together, along with a small pot of butter that tasted divine. They sat together at the table and broke their fast.

“So, a basic skill is something that the system recognises as a skill above the normal everyday thing. You don’t need a skill to eat, walk, or run, for example. A basic skill is something that requires some actual training, ability, or know-how.”

“Liiike, survival?” she asked, after chewing her bread.

Arran had just bitten into his own slice of bread, so he waved his hand back and forth, first.

“Sorry, wrong time to take a bite… Uh, sort of. That would probably be a basic skill for you but, in some cases, it would be a class skill. There are some skills like that. A good example is something like acrobatics. It’s specialised enough that not everyone can do it, but it’s general enough that any class could feasibly learn.”

“Okay, I get that. So, what about the skill point?”

“Mmhm, yeah, so the skill point would let you turn one of your basic skills into something more class appropriate, and, therefore, into a class skill.”

Faye’s eyes widened. “Wow, really? That seems incredibly powerful.”

Arran nodded. “Yes, exactly. You get more skill points early on than you do later. It took some time for people to realise that spending skill points as soon as you got them was not the best option.” He scowled. “Some of those noble houses and knowledge hoarders already knew that, of course. It’s fairly common knowledge now, but not everyone listens.”

Faye was about to ask another question, when a knock at the door interrupted.

Arran stood from the table, licking some of the butter off his thumb as he walked over to answer the door. Faye swivelled to see who it was but remained seated. That meant that she could not see who it was, nor what it was that Arran had in his hands.

But a few moments later, she heard his quiet curse.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“No, there are two notes. One is from the Guild. We’re needed. Wake the others. A priority job that cannot wait, apparently. The details are sparse, but we’re heading out of town. It specifically notes that you are to come with us.”

“To the Hall, or on the job?” she asked, warily.

Arran flashed a quick grin, “Oh, we wouldn’t let you get left behind. Definitely on the job. Best place for our little apprentice to learn, after all!”

Faye rolled her eyes. “Alright, but don’t get too big for your boots. I’ll catch up soon and kick your arse.”

Arran didn’t respond, though. He was scowling at the second piece of paper in his hands.

“They’re polite enough, I suppose,” he muttered.

“What? Who’s polite?” she asked.

“The Guard are.” His scowl darkened. “Dáibhídh Macloud is awake.”

Faye blinked. “Should I know who that is and why we care someone woke up?”

Arran’s gaze raked across hers and seeing her genuine confusion, his expression lightened. “Sorry. Yes. He’s the guardsman that took a cheap swipe at you.”

“Oh!” Faye said, leaving her mouth open for a second as she processed that. “He… just woke up?”

A noise on the stairs alerted her to Ailith coming down.

“Aye,” the big Guardian said. She was already wearing half her armour. “Folks that try to resist the system’s control like that get backlash, bloody awful backlash.”

“Yes,” Arran said.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Ailith said, waving a gloved hand at the man. “You’ll crack his jaw, and it will be over in a second.”

“That is not the point, Ailith, and you know it. I let my temper get the better of me and I issued an actual duel to the man. He was an idiot to refuse so long, but it was my skill that put him in that bed for weeks.”

“It’s not your fault, Arran,” Faye said. “He was in the wrong.”

Arran just shook his head. “Look, we don’t have time to argue the ethics of my duelling a Guard. Wake Gavan. Ailith, fully rested?”

“Right as can be, aye,” she said, rolling her shoulder. “Shoulder’s hitching a little, but nothing that’ll stop me doing my job.”

“Good,” Arran said. “I need my Guardian for this one.”

The three adventurers walked up the front steps of the Guild Hall before Faye. She was lagging behind them by a step or two. Her heart was thundering in her chest and her palms were sweating.

“Come on, Faye, what are you dawdling for?” Ailith called over her shoulder. “Get up here.”

“Yeah, sure, coming!” she called.

She could not quite ring up the courage to call herself an adventurer. It felt like a mistake. Like something the universe might come along and rip away from her at any moment.

The sun was just about to rise, behind them. With the coming of dawn, she realised that Rían would probably be waiting for her inside. She grimaced and stepped up with Ailith and the others.

“Thank God we got word before dawn,” she muttered.

Ailith grinned and nudged Faye. “I’m on your side, that brat can’t teach you anything you don’t already know.”

“Stop it,” Arran said. “Professional inside, please.”

Faye looked at Ailith out of the corner of her eye and smirked, eliciting a grin from the other woman.

They pushed open the heavy double doors and strode inside. Despite the early hour, the Hall was bustling with activity. Faye had never seen this many people at this time of day before.

“Oh, wow.”

“By the gods, this is serious,” Ailith muttered.

Faye grimaced. If Ailith said so, she was worried. The woman would not call many things serious.

“Arran, you’re here!” called an attendant. He nodded then waved the team forward. “Come, we have prepared kits for your journey. Have you eaten? Breakfast is available. No? Good, good. The Administrator is just dealing with something, she will be out momentarily.”

The attendant chivvied the team forward, and they filed into an area of the Hall that had been effectively marked out with various bags, boxes, and tables. There were people marching to and fro, carrying pieces of paper and shouting things out to one another.

“Adventurer team present,” the attendant called out. “What are we still waiting on?”

“Crafters are not yet ready!”

“Supplies ready!”

“Storage ready!”

“Transport ready!”

The attendant turned back to them. “Sounds like we’re close. Stay here, exactly in that spot. If you leave, I will personally hurt you. Please.”

The man looked desperate, more than serious, but Faye humoured him with a nod regardless.

“They’re a little… uptight,” Faye remarked. “Is that normal?”

“Not at all. This looks like a serious job.”

She hummed. Arran was simply standing still, looking at the preparations with his arms crossed over his chest. He wore his duellist’s coat, a form of brigandine that offered him protection and yet was comfortable enough to wear over long periods of time. He wore his duelling blade, a slightly curved single edged sword, on his left hip, and sported a thin, dangerous looking dagger on his right hip; a main-gauche that he could use as a parrying weapon due to its long quillons.

Gavan wore what Faye thought of as his combat robes. The top piece was long and came down to his knees but was cinched in tight at the belt. The collar opened up and rose up around his neck and ears, providing some protection there. His trousers were loose around the seat and wrapped tight below the knee to prevent tripping. He had straps across his chest that crossed in the centre, and each one had a sleeve for a pair of thin, carved wands that he could easily pull out with either hand. He also wore a dagger on the hip, but Faye knew he hated drawing it.

Ailith, on the other hand, wore her half plate. The breastplate, pauldrons, fauld, and tasset were all made from a dull silver coloured metal; Faye hadn’t asked, but she assumed it was steel that had been worked to make duller than usual. Ailith wore dark trousers, and they were tucked into heavy greaves and sabatons that covered leather boots. It wasn’t a full “knight in shining armour” look, but it was as close as Faye had ever seen on a real person, before. She carried her maul across her shoulders.

Faye was wearing something similar to Arran. It did not look as good as Arran’s armour, because his had been custom made for him. Hers was a collection of pieces from the adventurer’s stores of spares. Fortunately, the way it was made had allowed for enough change in the armour to allow her to wear it. When the payments from her Guild knowledge additions came in, she would pay for something custom. Out of the whole group, Faye felt a little overburdened with weapons. She had her wooden blade on the left hip, the loaned steel sword that Arran let her use on her right, and her new enchanted dagger was strapped securely to the small of her back. It was inaccessible by her right hand there, but it wasn’t in the way of drawing either of the other two blades.

She shifted her belt and scabbards again, adjusting the unfamiliar weight on her right hip.

Compared to the other people in the Hall, regular attendants and workers that could have fit right in at home if it were not for the occasional odd hairstyle or clothing choice, Faye felt that the four of them looked decidedly dangerous.

They did not have to wait long for the Administrator to arrive. She bowled into the preparation area with a small shoal of assistants around her.

“Excellent, you’re here. We have received word from a rather exhausted and terrified young farmhand that a charred forests beast corpse has appeared near his father’s steading. You are to escort the crafters to the downed beast, secure the site, protect the crafters as they harvest, and return with the materials. A high priority is the safety of the steading and Steader Bánn. We cannot afford to lose either resource. Questions?”

Faye was surprised at the Administrator’s rapid fire mission briefing, but Arran and the others seemed unfazed.

“What state is the boy in, if he is to accompany us back?”

“He’s currently sleeping off a rejuvenation spell, but we told him that he would be returning with you. There is space in the cart.”

“Did he report monster sightings?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Where is the steading?”

“The northwest foothills,” the Administrator said, and it was only here that her look faltered a fraction. Arran cursed quietly.

“Thank you, Administrator, we will do our best.”

“I know you will. Everything will be ready soon.” She nodded. “Faye, I’m afraid that your first job with the Guild is going to be longer and tougher than we expected. I hope you’re up to it.” The look she gave Faye was much more understanding than Faye ever expected from the woman.

She read the unasked question in the Administrator's posture and tone.

Faye shook her head. “No, thank you, I want to go. I want to help.”

“Excellent. Then, I shall leave you to it. May the Celestials watch over you.”

It did not take long for Rían to enter the Hall. Faye had expected him before then, if she was honest. He took one look at the activity and strode toward Faye and the adventurers in the centre of the maelstrom.

“What’s going on here?” he called out.

Arran turned and nodded, briefly. “Good morning. We’re leaving the town. I expect it shall be all anyone talks about, soon enough.”

Rían’s perpetually present scowl grew deeper. “You did not answer my question.”

“I don’t have to, little lordling.”

“Your insolence—”

“Oh, do shut up, won’t you?” Ailith interrupted. “Only, I’ve not fully awoken yet, and I would like to do it without a headache.”

“How dare—”

“If you have a headache,” Gavan spoke up, talking over Rían’s indignant exclamation, “I have a powder for that. I keep some in my belt pouch for road jobs. Remind me when we stop for a rest.”

Before Rían could say anything else, Faye stepped toward him. He stepped back, turning so that his left side was facing her — as if he were worried she would attack him.

“I’m afraid our training sessions will be put on hold for a while,” she said, with a rather exaggerated expression of sorrow. “It’s such a shame, because our first went so well. I really felt that I would have learnt something just really excellent from you, you know?”

“Crafters are all present and accounted for!” came a call over the Hall.

The adventurers each hoisted their prepared backpacks onto their shoulders and marched forward to follow the group of attendants that were streaming out of a wide but rather unobtrusive exit on the far side of the Hall Faye had never seen anyone use before.

She grabbed her own pack and swung it onto her back.

“You’re not seriously suggesting you’re going with them?”

She turned and gave Rían a look.

“Of course I am. Goodbye.”

“How ridiculous! You are… are at least, what, ten levels too low? You cannot possibly—”

Fortunately, the hubbub of the attendant crowd and the adventurers as they prepared for their journey drowned out the pathetic mewling of the little lordling, and Faye could not help but grin as she strode forward to catch up with the others.