“We have to wait,” Rowena said, nervous and frustrated. They crouched awkwardly behind a barrel that had been left outside the Cooper’s shop at the edge of the town square.

That was one advantage of the Cooper’s wares, Rowena mused– barrels and vats were difficult to steal items, so they could be left outside for the night with no problem. She considered for a moment whether they could be utilized to display other wares during the day and converted into lockboxes overnight, sparing her the need to bring tantalizing items for sale fully indoors at each sunset, and then shook herself.

The problems of a Merchant would not be her problems for much longer.

Their hiding place was also quite conveniently located far from the Three Sigil Inn, which even at this late hour still had a few patrons at the pub, but it still gave them a decent view of the fountain at the center, the Obelisk they were targeting— and Timo, Sorel’s hulking brother.

He didn’t seem all that bright (though, Rowena recalled with a sigh, she’d thought the same about Sorel until recently, when their shared experiences revealed that though the woman had few words to spare, the ones she shared were kind and thoughtful, if not particularly academic), but he was undeniably huge. Had he been that large two years ago, before his sixteenth year and his own Selection ceremony? And what was his Class, anyway? She supposed he might have grown this large naturally, but it was more likely that he was a WARRIOR - Guard or some such. That would be useful on a farm, isolated and away from the protection of the town. Not that much ever happened in Tunehlan’s corner of the world.

And so, they waited. The moon crept closer and closer to midnight, when the week that the Heartstone was activated would draw to a close. Of course, for all they knew the stone would stay permanently activated, corrupted and glowing as it was, but Rowena couldn’t take that chance. Now that she’d made up her mind, she was determined to see it through.

Kieran shifted uncomfortably. “Are we going to talk about–”

“Nope,” Rowena said simply, eyes narrowing as she peered at the Three Sigil Inn. The last light in the front pub area flickered and finally, went out. Thank the gods it wasn’t a weekend. Artemesia popped her head out of the front door for a quick look around, and then disappeared back inside the Inn. A shuddering of the door indicated that she’d locked up for the night.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Kieran could barely meet her eyes, which was just as well. Rowena could hardly stand to look at them, vibrant orange-red as they were. It reminded her of his power, how he’d used it on her (inadvertently or not), and made her wonder what was in store for her if– when– she herself touched the Heartstone.

“You’ve already used your power on me. Might as well add one more person to the list,” she said bitterly, knowing her words would wound him.

He turned away from her, and drew in a breath. Timo sat down at the fountain’s edge– tired, apparently, but still alert.

“Nothing’s happening,” Rowena said, heart beginning to pound. It was now or never, and the minutes were ticking by.

“Rowena, I don’t know how to do what I did, not yet. I’ve only been practicing for a few days. And anyway, I don’t even know what I can do, not really!” he hissed. “It’s not like it came with an instruction manual!”

Suddenly, Timo stood up, and Rowena’s breath caught. Had he seen them? Heard them?

No– it was someone else he turned towards.

Sorel and Mattie were approaching him from the opposite side of the square. From this distance, Rowena couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it seemed to be a low, heated argument.

“Damn!” Kieran said. “It doesn’t matter if I can knock him out or calm him down now. I can’t do that to Mattie or even the Farmhand, too!”

Rowena ignored him. With a swallow, she pushed down her fear. Clenching her fists, she stood up beside the barrel and began to run as fast as she could toward the Heartstone.

This wasn’t what she’d expected, she thought as she ran, feet hitting the cobblestones painfully. She figured she’d have time– they’d put Timo to sleep or send him away or something, and then she’d be able to meditate for at least a few minutes before the obelisk and have Kieran do some of the ceremonial rituals she’d watched with envy throughout her childhood.

Instead, here she was, running as if her life depended on it, praying that Timo didn’t turn back around and Sorel and Mattie didn’t betray her presence.

She didn’t bother with the simple but beautiful stepping stones that Martha had lovingly crafted to bring Tunehlan’s young to their futures in the center of the fountain. Instead, she clambered up to the top of the fountain’s stone edge and launched herself at the Heartstone in the center.

She hit it hard, but had only a brief moment to regret the additional bruising she’d be adding on top of her mostly-healed ones before suddenly everything around her seemed to disappear.

It felt as though time had slowed down completely, and she was suspended in a thick fog. The fog felt neither comforting, like a blanket, nor terrifying, like the dense mist that had prevented her from safely returning home one of the few times she’d left the safety of Tunehlan for the countryside. It simply was.

A moment later, she felt a distinct sense of being welcomed, like a foreign dignitary to a King’s hall, and then the words formed.

You are welcome.

She wasn’t sure if it was only in her head or booming all around her. Like the fog itself, it simply existed.

Precisely. It is. We are. You are.

Was someone specific speaking? Who was this we?

We are magic. But we are not we. Your mind creates a familiar sense of reality. You would not be able to stand this, otherwise.

Was this always what it was like? Or was this to do with the Heartstone’s corruption?

We are more intense, now. But we are fading. We have other places to go. But first, you.

At the word ‘you,’ the space began to shift rapidly, and four objects began to form in and of the fog. They were three dimensional depictions of the Sigils, and after a few moments, they were clear and pulsing with energy.

From the far left, they were WARRIOR, ROGUE, MAGIC USER, and OTHER.

As she looked at each, various scenes and feelings arose in her mind. Looking at WARRIOR, she felt she could hear the clash and clamor of battle, smell the scent of blood and the triumph of victory. ROGUE made her feel unexpectedly powerful– invisible and effective, the quiet joy of a private heist well executed. MAGIC USER frightened her: such power, such immense ability, things she had never wanted or needed.

And then, OTHER. Such an absurd and simple term for something that encompassed so much, so many lives and skills and purposes. As Rowena looked at it, she felt a sense of peace and calm. She felt like a wanted and needed member of a community– depended upon and dependent: a piece of a whole.

As she focused on OTHER, the Sigil itself dissipated and figures began to form in the fog. Tanner, Blacksmith, Carpenter, Innkeeper… the various subclasses she’d learned about flashed through her mind until she found the one she was looking for. She felt and saw what it would be to choose Merchant; she felt the joy of a deal well struck, bonds forged with customers, the satisfaction of closing up her shop for the day and returning to her family.

With great effort, she forced herself to look away. As she did, the feelings and images she was experiencing solidified back into the OTHER Sigil, and her eyes landed on MAGIC USER.

Her skin felt completely electrified as though lightning had struck her. The sheer power she could achieve! She’d not studied many MAGIC USER Subclasses as it wasn’t a Class that had ever interested her, but she thought about Manipulator, curious to know how it would feel to choose what Kieran had chosen.

You, too? the fog voice displayed its first hint of personality, something akin to amusement. It has been so long since anyone inquired that of us.

Suddenly, knowledge filled her mind and made her gasp: knowledge of the world around her, knowledge that magic suffused any and everything she’d ever known, even all of the mundane things she took for granted. It was there to be used, moved, changed. It was there, it was energy pulsing through even dead or inanimate objects– and suddenly she saw Tommie, and for a brief moment wondered if she could suffuse his body with enough magic to bring him back.

That is too much, too far, the fog voice said.

Forbidden? she wondered.

Forbidden is not a term we like. It replied and it was as though she felt it shrug.

She didn’t like this feeling, this suffusion of power and magic in her body. As she blinked and shook her head, her eyes caught the ROGUE Sigil, and she recoiled in distaste. Pickpocket, Assassin, Thief, even Pirate… all Subclasses she’d learned about: how to identify them and their Sigils to keep herself and her town safe.

And yet, there was something unbelievably seductive about the way that she felt now that she was in it. There was a quiet power, a sense of independence that settled right into her bones. Eagerly, the fog began flashing options at her that she’d hadn’t even known existed.

There was Mastermind, with plans and plots laid out before her like a feast. As a Mastermind, she would be able to work well with others, directing them like a puppetmaster to all their mutual glory. Arcane Trickster gave her a jolt like MAGIC USER had before and she shook her head in distaste. Then, something called Secretseeker swirled into being, and she stared as it grew in front of her. Knowledge and the ability to find it. Influence over others, insight. Quick movements, a light touch– not overwhelming power, but influence.

She was wasting her time here.

With a groan, Rowena tore her gaze over to WARRIOR. The clang of steel filled her ears once more and she felt her body tighten and swell, a physical strength unlike anything she’d ever felt. Here, like with OTHER, she could find community– Soldier, the strange voice/not voice whispered in her mind, and she felt the intensity of the bonds that only warriors who’d fought, bled, won, and lost together could experience. Other options flashed through her mind: Ranger, covering wide distances and uncovering mysteries untold; Barbarian, tapping into deeply held rage she hadn’t been aware that she was storing; Duelist, championing rights on behalf of those who could not help themselves.

Rowena made herself focus on Soldier. That was the class that her father had chosen… a different legacy, another birthright? The smell of blood started to become overpowering, and she knew she had to make her choice soon.

She looked at OTHER regretfully. It was what she was meant to be, to do; she was sure of that. But she tried her best to block Merchant from her mind as she considered the options she had been presented.

Rowena closed her eyes, and made her choice.