The child stood in the darkness of the cave and waited.

The teacher was here, somewhere, she knew. She could hear him moving in the shadows, but the echoes of the cave made narrowing down his location nearly impossible. That was the point of today's lesson, he'd said: To learn about the darkness. If she was going to be hunting giant rats...

She felt the rising surge of anger and promptly crushed it down ruthlessly. That had been the first lesson, conquering her anger. If she flew into a rage at even just the thought of giant rats and blindly attacked without thinking, she'd end up as rat shit. The enraged become rat shit. The foolish become rat shit. The overconfident become rat shit. The arrogant become rat shit. Hating the giant rats had no point to it: The rats didn't hate you, they didn't even know who you were, and more importantly, they didn't care. They'd eat your flesh whether they hated you or not. Rats eat, shit, and fuck, her teacher had taught her, and in that regard, they're just like humans. The real difference between man and rat is that rats don't bother with the trappings of civilization. That was why, one day, when the great empires of man fell, and the world fell into barbarism and chaos once more, nothing would change for the rats. They would gnaw the bones of saint and sinner, hero and villain, king and commoner alike. If you sought to kill the rat, then you must become the rat.

"A rat does not drop their guard, little worm," her mentor whispered, his gravelly voice coming from behind her. Immediately afterward, she felt his hand roughly slap her back, knocking her off balance and sending her to her knees. She was up again almost immediately, trying to turn and see where her teacher was. It was fruitless: The cave was utterly, absolutely dark, the kind that seemed to try and pull the eyes from their sockets. Yet, her teacher was able to move effortlessly in the pitch-black nothingness.

"The rat hides in the dark, little worm," her teacher said, his voice seeming to come from everywhere, "but it doesn't treat it as an ally. The rat has no ally, save for other rats, and sometimes not even then. All things are a potential threat. The rat does not trust the shadows, because it knows that other things stalk the dark that will kill it and eat it. So, no matter how well hidden, the rat never drops its guard. Be the rat."

The child stopped trying to search shadows with her eyes and tried to narrow down his location from the sound of his footsteps. However, it seemed equally futile, her master being impressively cat-footed. Her only reward for trying was another rough slap to her back.

"The rat does not rely on sight or hearing alone, little worm," her teacher said, his voice again betraying nothing of his location, "but instead uses all of its senses. It smells and tastes the air for any sign of danger. It feels the vibrations of movement through its feet. The rat is ever vigilant, and always ready to act at even the slightest hint of a threat. Be the rat."

The child stood still and listened, not with her ears, but with her entire body. She smelled and tasted the air, detecting the tang of her teacher's sweat. She felt the ground through her bare feet and the air on her skin, picking up the slight vibrations of movement and the stirring of the air as her teacher quietly moved around her. He had just stepped behind her and stopped.

Before her mind was conscious of it, she was already ducking, feeling his open palm push through the air above her head in what would have been another painful slap to her back. Instead of congratulating herself, she rolled forward to evade the follow-up kick she knew would follow, and was rewarded for her diligence by feeling the air stir just behind her. It was his way of teaching her not to be complacent and dropping her guard when she'd succeeded in anything. 'Just because you've evaded one threat doesn't mean that there's not another dozen coming to follow it,' he'd often tell her. She rolled into a fighting crouch, having twisted to face her master, in case more was to follow.

All was still and quiet for a moment, and then her master clapped his hands once. A torch at the back of the cave ignited, filling the cave with light.

"Excellent," the short, pot-bellied, undeniably ugly man who was her teacher said, his dark clothing doing little to hide the size of his paunch, "Most excellent. Perhaps there is hope that, after years of hard work and effort, a worm such as you could one day rise to the level of the rat." High praise, that. Her teacher was not one to give compliments.

She remained quiet and poised for immediate movement. Just because the lights were on didn't mean the lesson was over. If she lowered her guard, he could cross the distance between the two of them in an eyeblink and box her ears sharply to teach her another lesson about vigilance.

Her teacher looked her over, and after a few seconds, nodded. "Very good," he said, finally conceding, "Today's lesson is done, little worm." Without turning his back or taking his eye off of her, he moved with cat-like tread to the back of the cave, where his few possessions sat. "I went to town today to pick up supplies," he said, tickling the mechanisms of the locked chest that he kept his few valuables safe. He never used a key. Keys can be stolen. Worse, keys make you complacent. If he couldn't pick such a simple lock, he didn't deserve to keep its contents, he'd told her once. "I have news. The Adventurer's Guild has accepted your application. It took some convincing since you are only twelve, but since I am your sponsor, they conceded."

Technically, the Guild could accept anyone who was twelve or older if they applied, but the guildmaster reviewed any application from someone younger than sixteen years old and held the right to deny their application if it seemed that they were not fit for the role. Her teacher had some clout within the guild, she knew, but he never spoke about such things. All she knew was that he would sometimes be away for days at a time, then come back with a pouch of coins, a new ring or expensive new trinket to put in his chest, and a bottle of wine to enjoy. Whatever it was he did as an adventurer, it was dangerous but profitable.

"Because of that," he continued, opening the chest and effortlessly avoiding the spring-blade trap that would have claimed the fingers or hands of a lesser man, "I have decided that your training is ready to go to the next level." He pulled out a bulky pouch, along with a scroll, then set them on the ground before resetting the trap, then closing and locking the chest. "As it happens, a local tavern has encountered a rodent problem of the unusual size variety. The tavernkeeper's brother discovered them in the cellar while retrieving a cask, and nearly didn't survive the encounter. The healers have saved his life, but it will be several days before they can fully clear the diseases and infections from his body. Because of that, the tavernkeeper has closed the establishment for a week. That will give you plenty of time to take care of the problem in any way you see fit." He tossed her the scroll and said, "I have accepted the mission on your behalf, and informed the tavernkeeper that you're coming. The establishment is The Ringing Bell. As I recall, it was where you first sought me out, so I expect you can find it on your own." He kicked the bulky package over, sending it sliding over the floor in front of her. "Your equipment and supplies, plus a few silver to pay for proper lodging while you're in the city. As I said, the tavern is closed for a week, so you have plenty of time to deal with the rats. Deal with the vermin in whatever way you deem fit, then collect your reward from the guild. I have a new mission from the guild, so I will find you when I return. And on that note..." He paused, then collected three gold coins from the pouch at his belt and flipped them over to her. She caught them in midair and looked at the coins in shock, this being an uncharacteristic sign of generosity, then immediately flinched to avoid the expected strike...

...that did not come.

He looked at her sadly for a moment, then said, "This job will be more dangerous than most, so I can't say if I'll be back. We have covered the fundamentals of your training, and there's nothing I can truly teach you that doesn't build off of what you already know. If I do not return, continue your training. Learn, think, and grow. Be the rat."

After a moment, she nodded, and said, "Understood, teacher."

He smiled, then replied, "Good. Your path for exiting the tunnels will be left, left, right, left, right, center, then right. If I have not returned within three moons, you may return to collect my valuables. Consider it my investment in your future career. You can return here via going right, left, right, left, right, center, then left, in the event of my passing. Also, let the guildmaster know: He'll have a package for you that I've asked him to keep safe." He paused, then made a waving gesture and said, "You're dismissed, apprentice. Go, little worm, and rise to the level of the rat."

She bowed, collected the package, then without turning her back or taking her eyes off her master, she left. As she began navigating the maze of tunnels and traps that separated her master's lair from the outside world, she pondered, briefly, if he might be the slightest bit paranoid. Then, as she turned the corner and noted a fresh corpse that wasn't there when she'd passed this way a few hours ago, she reconsidered. The man had been well-armed and wearing medium armor, the mark of seven intertwined serpents tattooed upon his face proclaiming him to have been a hireling of the assassin's guild. This was the third one this moon and had gotten closer than most. She idly wondered if her master's mission might be somehow related to this, but that wasn't her concern. He had his secrets, and she had hers. If he'd wanted her involved with his worries and woes, he'd have shared them with her. As the child carefully searched the corpse for any valuables or useful equipment, she decided that her master wasn't paranoid, simply well-prepared to deal with all the dangers that life threw his way.