“What do you mean, no?!” the wolf exclaimed in outrage.

“I mean there’s no one to hunt,” Damien said, trying to calm the beast down. “I think your dad already took care of that.”

“I... okay, that makes sense,” the wolf acquiesced, sitting down on his haunches as he looked Damien up and down. “But if that’s the case, why’d you summon me in the first place? It seems a bit odd to summon a Familiar like me if you don’t need me in the near future.”

“Well... does the summoning have a time limit?”

“Not technically. If my body gets destroyed or I get dismissed you’ll need to re-summon me, but other than that, I can stay here for as long as I want.”

“... call it a preemptive measure,” Damien said. “Since I’m only a few hours out from somebody trying to kill me, I figured that having you here would mitigate the risk if somebody tried something like that again. Plus, it kinda just seemed like the thing to do, after your dad gave me the Spell.”

“... I’m still pissed that I don’t get to kill anyone,” the wolf said, shaking its body as it stood and padded over to Damien’s shadow.

“But I guess I can see your reasoning. Anyway, if anyone needs me, I’ll be in your shadow.”

“Wait!” Damien said, almost touching the wolf’s shadowy body before the beast began to glare at him in annoyance. “Um... do you have a name?”

“A name? No, never needed one,” the Shadow Wolf said, looking back to Damien’s shadow as though it were a cozy little cave he desperately wished to rest in.

“Then what am I supposed to call you? It can’t just be ‘Shadow Wolf.’ For one thing, it seems more like a title than a name. Plus, it’s a little... over the top.”

The wolf actually made a sound that seemed to be a sigh as it looked back to Damien, sitting down as it looked up at him. “Fine, if it’ll really put you at ease. Do you have any in mind?”

“... uh... well...”

“... by the Spirits, I hate this job already...” the Shadow Wolf muttered to himself. “Look, if this really needs to be a thing, we can do it when you’ve actually given some thought to a couple of names. That sound alright?”

“Yeah! Thanks,” Damien said, relieved that he was no longer on the spot.

“Don’t mention it. Anyway... see you fuckers later.”

And with that, the Shadow Wolf did as its description had implied, and fell into his shadow as though it were a gaping hole in the earth, disappearing within. Just to make sure he hadn’t hallucinated it, Damien prodded his own shadow with his foot, and found the ground beneath solid and sturdy as it had ever been.

“That might take some getting used to.”

“Trust me, kid, things are going to get even stranger from here,” Corbyn said, stepping over to his apprentice with a calm smile. “You ready to head home?”

“Yeah. After the day I just had, I could use some sleep,” Damien said with a yawn. “Wasn’t all bad, but it was definitely draining.”

“Well, be sure to get plenty of rest,” Corbyn said, a smile coming onto his face that gave the Traveler a sudden and overwhelming sense of dread. “Your proper training as a Shade Hunter begins tomorrow.”

Damien hit the padded floor of the sparring chamber for the fifth time that morning. At first, the landing had been a wake-up call, a warning to take this seriously. Now, it was getting a little old. He understood the principle behind learning how to fall properly, but this seemed slightly sadistic. Had all of those training scenes and montages from old kung-fu movies actually been accurate? If so, then hopefully this would all be worth the pain.

It had been three days since Damien’s Awakening, and they had been... hard. Corbyn was not a gentle teacher, but he was a good one. At first, he had started with the basic grips and motions of a sword, allowing him to get a feel for how it moved and how different makes of a sword could alter a style, both minutely and drastically. They had focused mostly on his blade of choice, the jian, but also took the time to look at a few other, similar weapons, like the arming sword and short sword before they had conducted their first sparring match. It had been a light thing for Corbyn, little more than stretching.

By the end of it, Damien had been panting on the ground, gasping in lungfuls of air, his arms aching from blocking the light taps of Corbyn’s blade. His ‘light taps’ had been enough to push Damien to his limits and nearly pound him into the ground. It was apparent that his Strength stat was far above Damien’s own. And, if the man was to be believed, it was also the lowest of all ten.

Yesterday had been movement training. Or, as Damien had known it back on Earth, parkour. It had mostly been confined to the streets of Lamora, though Corbyn had also taken him outside the city to the woodlands and large evergreens therein. It had been a long day, but it did bring back a couple of fond childhood memories of climbing trees. He had still collapsed the moment they got home, though. And he hadn’t even gotten a Skill for it. Corbyn had explained that it was Rare, and had more difficult prerequisites given its tier, but Damien had still hoped for something out of the ordinary. But he’d had no such luck. It seemed that he would have to learn that Skill the hard way.

Today, they were exercising his Unarmed Combat Skill. Not in the traditional sense of exchanging pointers and having him go through the motions of the basics, like they had with Swordsmanship. Instead, Corbyn had taken this opportunity to teach Damien three of the most important, and painful, lessons that any warrior of any ilk could learn. How to take a hit, how to deal with pain, and how to get back on one’s feet.

Needless to say, it wasn’t going well. Damien hadn’t expected perfection from himself on the first day; both he and Corbyn knew that would be too much, but he hadn’t expected it to be this... infuriating.

“Again,” the Canis said, his expression unsympathetic to Damien’s plight for the last hour of practice.

“I hate getting thrown,” Damien muttered, getting to his feet with a slight groan.

“You should,” his mentor said. “It’s an easy way to get injured or potentially leave yourself open to a potentially fatal attack. That’s why you’re learning how to deal with a throw now. We’ll go through the motions a few more times, and then I’ll show you a few ways to get out of a grapple before someone follows through. Then we’ll work on the basic strikes: how to punch, kick and block without breaking your own bones. You’ll have the rest of the day to yourself after that.”

Damien nodded, shifting back into his stance as the Shadow Wolf spoke to him from within the darkness of his own silhouette. “C’mon, let me at ‘em! I can tear this guy apart in no time.”

No, Damien thought to the wolf, whom he still had yet to name. For one thing, I don’t think you’d survive anything close to his level of strength. For another, it’d be very rude. He’s my mentor, this is kinda expected. Besides, you can’t fight all my battles for me.

“I understand wanting to get stronger, but this seems – oh shit, here he comes!”

The Traveler had been so distracted by the Shadow Wolf that Corbyn managed to get into his space before he had time to properly prepare himself. The Canis took him by the arm, twisted him around, and threw him bodily to the other side of the room, causing Damien to roll on the floor before he came to an abrupt and sudden stop at the room’s other side.

“Well, you’re not dead, so that’s something,” the Shadow Wolf said, continuing on as though nothing had happened. “Anyway, like I was saying, this seems a bit counterproductive. Wouldn’t it be better to just start with what you need right away?”

I need this so I can implement the training from the Grandmaster Tome properly! You don’t need this kind of training because you literally have everything you need engraved into your soul.

“Yeah. Guess I was just born awesome, huh?”

Shut up, please.

It went like this for the next few hours, and by the end of it, Damien could swear that he had blacked out at least once. He soaked his sore muscles in his bath, groaning softly as the warm water wore away at his stinging injuries.

“So, are you ever gonna give me a proper name or what?” the shadowy beast said as it sat next to the tub, head tilted in confusion.

Although the Shadow Wolf had seemed anathema to the idea of a name at first, he seemed suddenly annoyed that Damien had yet to choose one for him. It wasn’t as though he’d been idle in the matter; he’d tried to think of a few, but they had been names that you would give to common dogs. The Shadow Wolf was not a common dog, and Damien thought he deserved an appropriate name. Even if he did think that the Shadow Wolf was rather annoying when it came to that subject.

“Give me a bit, alright? Most of my days have been nonstop training.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got some time this afternoon, right? Just take out some time to name me then.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” The Shadow Wolf looked confused for several seconds before he seemed to remember something that Damien had mentioned a while back. “Oh, right. Today’s the day you’re going to see that Seraphite girl.”

“Felicia,” Damien confirmed. “We’re meeting up at Regina’s today to clear up some of the gaps in my knowledge base. The books she gave me last time were great, but there’s some stuff that I still need clarified.”

“Hm. So, are you into her, or-”

“This really isn’t the time, dude,” Damien said, covering his suddenly reddening face. “I think she’s nice. And... I haven’t had a real friend in a really long time. I don’t want to ruin that because of some stupid impulse.”

“... oh.” The Shadow Wolf sounded suddenly ashamed, his head drooping down with the turn in his voice. “Sorry.”

“It’s... fine, I guess.”

Damien could admit to his infatuation with Felicia, at least in the privacy of his own mind. But it was skin deep, more to do with her looks than the person herself. He wanted to rectify that. He had never had many friends in his old life, and the ones he’d had inevitably left after a year or so. He had wanted to maintain those relationships, but in the end, the distance between them and his own fears of messing up had prevented him from trying.

He wanted to change that. And maybe he and Felicia would remain friends and nothing more. Or they could evolve into something entirely different. Damien didn’t know. And, at least for the moment, he was alright with that uncertainty. Even if the prospect did frighten him.

It didn’t take him long to dress for the day, his dark clothing quickly becoming as common to him as his now black hair. He strapped his jian to his waist at the left side, in easy drawing distance. Damien could wield it with some proficiency now, though it was more that of an apprentice than an adept. Still, he was at least more comfortable with the weapon than he had been when he’d first picked it up, and that made a world of difference.

“Be sure to let me know if anyone needs killin’,” the wolf said as he disappeared into Damien’s shadow.

“Are you ever going to stop asking me that?”

“Nope! It is what I was made for, y’know.”

“I... yeah, that’s fair. I’ll let you know.”

“Sweet!”

Before Damien left his room, he pulled up his Status, thoroughly satisfied with how his progress looked to be coming along.

[Status]

Name: Damien Sinclair

Race: Traveler of Umbra (Male)

Age: 18

Class: Shade Hunter

Level: 1

XP: 850/1,000

Profession: Not Selected

Affinity: Umbra

Stats:

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 27

Intelligence: 27

Constitution: 17

Endurance: 17

Wisdom: 18

Vitality: 14

Vigor: 17

Willpower: 18

Reaction: 30

Stat Points: 0

[Spells]

| Shadowbolt (Common) | Shadow of the Night Wolf (Ancient)

[Abilities]

| Shade Sense (Uncommon)

[Skills]

| Identify (Common) | Swordsmanship (Common) | Unarmed Combat (Common)

He had put a single point in Strength, just to make sure that it didn’t fall too far behind his other Stats, and another in Wisdom to bring it up to an even number. He had then placed three points each in Dexterity and Intelligence while putting the remaining four into Reaction, bringing it up to an even thirty. None of his Skills had advanced in quality, nor had he had a chance to try out any Spells other than the one that had summoned his Shadow Wolf, but he knew that Corbyn would likely be explaining more on that subject tomorrow. It would be his first day off from physical training, and the day they would be spending on the scholarly side of being a Hunter. Damien was looking forward to it.

Still, he hadn’t had much of a chance to use what seemed to be his most basic of Skills: Identify. It was another thing that Corbyn had told him not to do until he’d gone through a crash course with him. As Damien understood it, using Identify without proper focus, control, and intent could quickly lead to information overload and knock someone out from the sheer stress it could cause to their mind. He wisely saved himself from embarrassment by not using it, even if it was really, really tempting. And supposedly easy, too, according to the instinctual knowledge of the Skill itself.

It didn’t take him long to find his way to the same street where Regina’s was located, only taking him about half an hour now that he knew where he was going instead of simply wandering around aimlessly. It was the same slightly out-of-place bookshop that almost no one visited, the lack of ornamentation seemingly killing all potential for customers who weren’t regulars. The fact that the place managed to stay open despite the lack of traffic was something of a mystery to Damien, but it wasn’t like he knew how businesses ran here. Maybe she was less tied down by expenses than he thought she was. Either that, or Spells sold for ridiculously high prices. He wasn’t sure which, given his lack of information, both were equally as likely.

He peeked into the shop, noting that Felicia wasn’t there yet. She seemed the punctual sort, and he was a tad early to their meeting. He opened the door and waved at Regina, who promptly said something about choosing to wait either outside or inside her shop. Damien chose the former, leaning next to the entrance as he waited. A few minutes passed, at which point he was starting to grow a bit numb from the sheer boredom. And then, as it often does in these kinds of situations, it happened.

“Insolent trash!” a man yelled as the echoing sound of a backhand against a soft cheek reverberated through the street, Immediately, Damien’s hand was at his jian, pulling it partway out of the sheath before he identified where the exclamation and noise had come from. A tall man barely older than Damien with white hair – a clear mark of Seraphite heritage – and a pale complexion stood over a young boy who looked to barely be entering his teens, his clothing worn, frayed and tattered compared to the resplendent garb of the man who stood over him. The Traveler assessed the situation as best he could, trying to figure out who was in the wrong without jumping to conclusions.

That was when he saw blood coating the back of the Seraphite’s hand. The strike had clearly been reactionary, but the sight of it, of the man striking out with such force at a child... something inside Damien’s heart hardened at the sight. He slowly slid his jian the rest of the way out of its sheath. The blade didn’t make so much as a rasp, his grip on the hilt tightening ever so slightly as he approached the man from behind with slow, almost silent steps. The rest of the people on the street simply watched in horrified fascination, under the full sway of the bystander effect.

Can you pin him down? I want to make sure he doesn’t make this worse, the Traveler asked his summoned familiar, his thoughts as cold and hard as his heart.

“Is the sky blue?” the Shadow Wolf replied, his own voice uncharacteristically serious. “He’s not that powerful. It’ll be a cinch.”

Do it.

When Damien was just behind the man, the wolf leaped from his shadow, taking the Seraphite noble by the throat and slamming him to the ground. The sharp fangs lining the beast’s maw hadn’t pierced his throat, or so much as scratched his skin. However, as the noble struggled to free himself from the wolf’s jaws, he quickly found that doing so was pointless.

Damien drove the tip of his jian downwards, inches away from the Seraphite’s face. The man’s silver eyes glanced at the blade in the ground, noting just how sharp the thing was, and stared back up at Damien with fear. The Traveler’s face was completely blank and emotionless as he spoke, his next words nothing more and nothing less than an ultimatum.

“What the hell gives you the right to strike a child?”

The man began to bluster, clearly trying to bluff his way out of the situation he had created for himself. “That peasant tried to pick my pocket! To rob me-”

Damien simply edged his jian a little closer, and the Seraphite quickly shut up. “That’s not what I asked. What gives you the right to strike a child of any kind?”

“Hey, kid? We have a problem,” the Shadow Wolf said telepathically. It seemed that he could choose exactly how he chose to communicate, so long as he and Damien were within a good distance of each other. “He’s Awoken. Only for about a month or two, but he’s got a Spell prepping.”

Shit. That wasn’t good. Can you stop it?

“Unlikely. I’ve got him pinned, but that’s not nearly the same thing as being able to stop someone’s Mana flow. If I wanted to do that… well, I could, but it’d involve physical harm, and that might make things worse for us.”

With this information in mind, Damien looked at the man on the ground with disgust before leaning away, jian in hand. “Stand up. I know you’re charging a Spell, and I would prefer this not get any more out of hand than it already has.”

The Seraphite did so, rising to his feet as he glared daggers into Damien’s face. The Traveler didn’t react as the Seraphite got all the way to his feet, giving his answer in a voice so snobbish and annoying that Damien already regretted granting the man the chance to get to his feet. “He is beneath me, and tried to reach above his station. That is nothing less than the act of either a fool or a madman! It doesn’t matter if the boy is young - what he did was wrong!”

“That’s not the point,” Damien said, walking over to the boy and checking his condition. Other than the clear line of blood and crooked nose, he seemed to be doing alright, for the moment. “Look at him. He’s clearly starving. You can practically see his bones through his clothes. I can’t tell if you’re blind or just that entitled.”

“You dare-”

“Yes, I dare,” Damien said. “Now you can either make up for your mistake… or you can kindly fuck off. At this point, I really don’t care which.”

The Seraphite looked furious, pale face reddening as he looked ready to explode. A sheen of something began to coalesce in his palm, likely prepping a Spell. Well, shit. It looked like this was going to escalate after all. True, Damien hadn’t exactly helped the situation with his comments or his swearing, but he was sick and tired of watching bullies get away with so many cruel things. He wouldn’t stand for it. Not anymore. His hand gripped his jian as he prepared to launch himself forward. Though he had so little combat training to the point that it was almost nonexistent, he did at least know how to swing his sword properly.

Then, before this could devolve any further than it already had, Regina stepped in. Her spectacles shone with glare from the morning sun, blocking her dark eyes from sight as she stared down the pompous Seraphite on the street. Then, she spoke, her words cold. “You know better than to darken my doorstep with your prejudices, brat. So, let me be clear this time. If I see you doing something like that again, I’ll beat you black and blue without hesitation. Understood?”

Unable to reply to the woman with his words, the Sreaphite simply nodded, and began to quickly walk away. It was a controlled, practiced thing, and he jutted his chin out as though the exchange meant nothing to him. But the fact that his eyes held his genuine fear… Damien decided then and there to never, ever get on Regina’s bad side.

“Sorry about that, Damien,” the bookstore owner said as she knelt down. “After that wolf of yours jumped out of your shadow, I thought you had the situation handled. I should’ve remembered that you’re just a kid, and that most of the nobility are fucking morons who’ve lived in a social bubble most of their lives.”

“It’s fine,” Damien replied as the aforementioned familiar was subsumed by his shadow and a tone of concern reentered his voice. “Is he going to be okay?”

“The boy? He just needs food, and maybe some new clothes, but I can handle that just fine.” Regina looked at Damien then, giving him a sly wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you tell Felicia about this little incident yourself. I think that’d be more comfortable for the both of you, yes?”

“Definitely,” the Traveler said, unable to keep the relief from his voice. “Thanks. It’s already going to be weird enough explaining the Shadow Wolf.”

“Well, people have already seen him. No use in hiding him now.”

“... yeah. I guess you’re right."

“You did what?!”

As it turned out, Felicia was very interested in the whispered story that allegedly involved him. Damien had been explaining it as best he could, until he directly insulted the noble’s honor. That was grounds for a duel, a formalized form of combat for which Damien was not prepared. Regina stepping in when she had saved him from a lot pain.

“It’s not like the guy was going to just leave it alone. Besides, he just… who the hell hits a kid like that?! He broke his nose! There was blood everywhere! It… I just couldn’t stand by and let something like that happen. Not… not again. Not when I can actually do something about it.”

There was a silence between the two as the conversation suddenly began to grow awkward. Felicia seemed slightly flustered, smoothing out her clean, deceptively expensive tunic to try and regain her bearings. Unfortunately, the motion had the unintentional effect of drawing attention to her attractive figure, causing Damien to close his eyes briefly before he refocused on her face. Her face was no less distracting, given how pretty she was, but he found it easier to focus on the conversation at hand when he looked her in the eye. She eventually turned back, sighing as she shrugged.

“I won’t say what you did was wrong, because it wasn’t,” Felicia answered. “It was clearly what you felt was right in the moment, and you saved a child further pain by stepping in. But you must understand that your actions have consequences. You might be the hero to everyone else out there, but to that noble? You’re an enemy. And he likely has friends who share his prejudices. Be careful where you walk from now on, alright?”

Damien nodded. In truth, this wasn’t something he’d wanted to consider, but it did make sense. The noble would be back, and he’d have backup next time. Even if he was only a month out from his own Awakening, the noble clearly understood the principles of magic and how it worked, and likely had since sometime in his childhood. That was part of the inherent disadvantage of being an outsider to Xaunis. He’d have to spend weeks, months, or maybe even years playing catchup on things that would seem normal to most people. But he was willing to put in the effort, if that was what it took to survive.

“Well, on to a tangentially related topic,” the Seraphite woman said as she glanced down at Damien’s shadow. “I heard about your familiar, but I’ve never really seen one myself. Shadow Wolves are rare, especially given their generally reclusive natures, and the fact that they’re so close to their progenitor. Could you… um…”

Felicia seemed embarrassed as she looked for a polite way to ask Damien how to show her the Shadow Wolf like a child shyly asking to hold a new puppy. The Traveler smiled at the young woman, tapping his foot on the ground to get his familiar’s attention. In an instant, he was there, sitting back on his haunches as he stared at the young Seraphite woman with patience and a nod of his head.

“… this seems unusual,” Damien said, noting the wolf’s sudden change in attitude. “I thought you were going to do something cold.”

“I’m sassy, not rude,” the Shadow Wolf replied before turning back to Felicia. “Greetings. I’d give you my name, but I don’t exactly… have one. Never needed one before. Dad wasn’t exactly vague with who he needed to do what, so the concept seemed kinda pointless. Now that I’ve had a few days, I’ve come around to the idea of it.”

“…” Felicia just looked at the Shadow Wolf in awed silence. Damien was pretty sure her jaw had gone slack as the Familiar had spoken to her. He tried to hold back a chuckle at the sight, and failed. She flinched at the noise, looking over at Damien with a flush of embarrassment spreading through her cheeks. “S-sorry. Not a lot of familiars can speak aloud, and most are restricted to speaking only with their Summoner. And he does look awfully… unusual.”

“Hey, I’m just glad I’m not the only one who got surprised by him,” Damien reassured her. “So… do you have any suggestions for names? I’ve been trying to find one for a while now, but it’s been something of a challenge to find something that doesn’t sound completely pretentious or insanely overdramatic.”

“I… uh… huh,” Felicia said, going from surprised to confused to contemplative in the span of a few seconds. The expressions she made were awfully cute, and Damien had to briefly fight his brain so that he stayed focused on the task at hand. Eventually, she responded. “That’s usually a pretty personal process. I can probably help you out, but you’ll still have to choose the name yourselves. It’s best if both Summoner and familiar are satisfied with the name, although the opinion of the latter is more important than the former in this case.”

Damien nodded. “Sure. So… how should we do this?”

Forty-five minutes later, the two were still brainstorming ideas for names, with the Shadow Wolf himself chiming in every now and then to shoot down ideas or voice his approval for others. It was a pretty boring process, and both the Traveler and the Seraphite were thoroughly tired of it, and they were about to table the discussion for later. That was when Damien noticed something on the shoulder of Felicia’s tunic.

“I think you’ve, uh…” the Traveler made a sweeping motion over his own shoulder with one of his hands, drawing attention to the discoloration. Felicia looked down and caught the mild speck of dark soot, brushing it off quickly after.

“Surprised I didn’t notice it,” she said, looking back to Damien with a smile. “It’s fine. Just a bit of ash from earlier today.”

Something she’d just said struck a cord with Damien. Not like something profound or enlightening, but something that just sounded… right. He looked at her intensely, for once not noticing her beauty as he asked his question. “Sorry, but could you repeat what you just said?”

“… just a bit of ash from earlier today,” Felicia repeated, noting the look of concentration as she replied. Damien noted the word that he’d subconsciously recognized seconds before, and thought it fitting. It was technically a name, after all. It was simple, and rolled easy off the tongue, but was could still be quite intimidating.

“Ash,” he said, looking to his Shadow Wolf with a grin on his face. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“Like it? It’s literally perfect!” the Familiar replied, wagging his tail as he leaped into the air. It was a bit strange to see a wolf made of shadows jumping around with excitement, but at this point Damien wasn’t surprised by it. “Yes! From now on, my name is Ash.”

“… well, that’s one way to name a familiar,” Felicia said after a few moments. “But I’ve definitely seen stranger things. Though not by much.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, things are probably going to start getting stranger and stranger for me. All I can really do at this point is roll with whatever decides to come at me next.”