Rica hadn’t noticed the momentary byplay, wrinkling her adorable nose as she peered intently at the wand the smiling proprietress had handed her. “What does it mean if you can’t, well, feel anything at all?”

The elf tilted her head. “Not even a tingle?”

“Not if you don’t count last night,” she said with a teasing smile for a blushing Eric, earning a rich throaty chuckle from the willowy elf who was definitely all woman.

“Then I’d say you’ve already found the greatest prize you could hope to capture, dear one. But I fear the mage’s path might not be the one for you.”

Rica sighed. “So, no Hoggleworts for me.”

Nelly grinned. “Guess you’ll just have to settle for being the deadliest Javelineer in all of Gilton who stumbled upon a badass primal class as old as mankind itself.”

Rica snorted. “I guess I will, at that.”

The elf blinked, gazing at Rica with a curious smile. “You have a primal class of Advanced tier or better?”

Rica slowly nodded. “I do.”

“Why that’s a wonderful thing, child!” The proprietress gushed. “I do hope you are taking notes of your growth, how precisely you achieved the feat, and the Node perks and class options available to you. You could forge an extremely valuable guide that could help Terran-based humanity as a whole.”

Rica’s surprised blink became a slow smile. “So I could be a published author, and be able to help people. Sounds pretty cool.”

The elf nodded. “And best of all, Blue Corp has a publishing division! Do keep us in the loop, because of course we’d be happy to publish for you, once you achieve a Bronze Tier class evolution.”

Rica blinked. “Bronze tier?”

The elf gazed at Rica for long moments, her warm smile turning sad. “I’m sorry, child. I’m not permitted to say anything more.”

Rica ground her teeth. “Because of goddamned newly subjugated world edicts. Keeping us all in the dark so we don’t get too high and mighty and take up too much of that sweet sweet power from our own crumbling world!”

The elf gazed solemnly at a suddenly shame-faced Rica for long moments before flashing a gently sympathetic smile. “Even if you lack the Arcane Resonance to properly trigger magical artifacts, you can still benefit from enchanted armor and weapons. You’ll find an exquisite selection right across the street, and I, for one, hope that they can assist you in a long, profitable, and safe adventuring career, for the sake of yourself, and your family.”

With a solemn bow of her head, she turned to Nelly. “Now, my budding future mage, what wands can we secure for you today?”

Nelly positively grinned. “One of each!”

This earned a gentle smile. “The basic Fire, Ice, and Lightning wands that harness your own Mana Pool are 3, 4, and 6 gold ounces respectively, dear. If you are interested in backup wands with their own separate charges, charges which can be refueled at any quality electromana outlet with our complimentary charger, that will be 6 gold for the fire, which holds 40 charges, 8 for the Ice which holds 20 charges, and 12 for the lightning, which holds 10 charges.”

Nelly froze, flashing a worried smile. “That is… um… yeah.”

Eric grinned. “Do the purchases come with lessons? And I’m guessing all the suites at the hotel have electromana charges, and is there any portable way to recharge them?”

“The proprietress's gaze turned apologetic once more. “Regretfully, we are not permitted to give any training or instruction.”

Eric snorted. “Of course not.”

“But! We do have… what do you call it? An adventuring board where people are free to list their skills as a mage, contact info, and availability for adventuring groups, in addition to groups looking for mages and, I’m happy to say, a number of humans who are also willing to tutor novices in the arcane arts. As to your earlier questions, yes. The Blue Palace most definitely has electromana charging stations in all of it’s guest rooms and suites. Additionally, we have universal personal chargers for five gold that will allow you to charge those wands yourself.”

Eric turned to the corkboard she was pointing at, bemused to find it covered in tacks and manila cards, very much like the cork-boards one could find in hobby shops and restaurants, back in the day. Though unlike the jumbled collage of scribbled notes he was expecting, it was lined out in three neat rows of those seeking adventurers or adventuring groups, and those offering lessons or instructions in everything from wand use to swordplay.

“Wait, let me make sure I got this right,” said a hard-eyed Morgan. “It would cost us 3 whole gold to buy a wand that shoots firebolts. But to get one that shoots it with its own battery is 6 gold. And if we want a charger so we can charge it with our own, what, Mana Reserves later? That will cost, in all, a whopping 11 gold eagles! That would be 22,000 USD half a year ago, when gold was at it’s peak, right before the world ended. And today that’s equivalent to 220,000 credits, because gold’s worth way more now, and credits themselves are worth several US dollars. Well, before the US Dollars got relegated to 2nd tier toilet paper, I mean.”

To her credit, the proprietress didn’t bat an eye, merely nodded her head. “Correct, young sir. And those 40 extra firebolts, or plasma blasts, might just be what saves your life, if you and your companions are being pushed to your absolute limits and your personal wand is glowing hot, or your own mana reserves are tapped. And seeing as how most of you are human, unless you already have an Advanced arcane class and all the necessary perks, you won’t be recharging without at least a good hour’s meditation or sleep, if not the whole night.” She flashed a pitying smile. “I will tell you this much for free, children. Of the handful of parties that have come through these past 3 months that have actually purchased backup wands with their own separate power source… not one of them have failed to return to thank me personally.”

Eric blinked, trading a significant look with the others. He didn’t need Social Perception to know that she was being dead honest, or to think she was faking the forlorn look in her eyes when Morgan asked about the adventuring groups that didn’t get backup wands.

“Just in the last three months, I know of two groups out of fifteen that lost members of their crew,” she softly said. “And one of them confessed that lack of resources was what had done them in.”

Eric blinked. On the one hand, two groups out of fifteen over a season might not seem that bad. But this wasn’t a novel where a 50% mortality rate in dungeons was somehow ‘normal,’ which would mean that not even one in four thousand adventurers would survive a year, if they just delved once a month. Adventuring would then be a death sentence. And according to the elf before him, 2 groups out of fifteen had fallen in just the last quarter of a year. Not fighting for their lives against orcs or other incursions...but doing controlled dungeon dives, where the variables were at least partially if not completely accounted for.

Eric felt a chill shivering up and down his spine. “So what you’re saying is, that over a year’s time, any one group only has a 57% chance of making it through intact, even if all they’re doing are controlled dungeon dives, no more than once a month.”

This earned a thoughtful nod. “Of course, one may assume that the odds are ever more in your favor with continuing experience. However, those groups belonging to the most powerful guilds who control predictive dungeons with known reset times most definitely skew the odds. So, if anything, you should assume your peril is all the greater, if you dare the pair of rifts open to everyone, no matter how desperate, or unprepared.” Her smile turned apologetic. “And I don’t think I need to tell you that there are countless groups, and former groups, of poorly prepared adventurers who never interacted with me at all. Only those with a certain degree of wealth, savvy, connections, or luck, ever crossed my doorstep in the first place.”

Rica paled. “Shit. That’s not exactly comforting to hear.”

“Yet the longer you adventure during this, the heyday of Earth’s blossoming, the more powerful you will become, savoring a rise of Potency unlike anything I have ever seen before,” the elf admitted with a certain breathless lilt to her voice. “I have seen near powerless children, newly fleshed Conscripts, evolve and improve themselves to the point they were able to achieve a respectable Standard Tier class, and ascend well past level 20… some even hitting 30, in as many months as should have taken years. If not decades. Truly, the opportunities, and peril, of this world verge on the limitless. May you be prudent in embracing the former and avoiding the latter, as much as you possibly can.”

Eric smirked. “Alright, at this point, I only have one question.”

He smiled into the elf’s inquiring eyes before solemnly plopping a 27 pound bar of gold into her trembling hands. “Can you make change?”

It wasn’t until a good hour later that they finally left the shop, up several sets of wands, several contacts, and with a shimmering blue card after the proprietress had all but rushed him into a neighboring building with a very large crystalline machine, a small handful of elite adventurers waiting politely in line before a smiling elven wizard who emphasized with everyone that this was in no ways to be construed as a banking operation, took a drop of blood, soul-linked it to an arcane chip in the card, and handed it back with its net worth discretely visible only if one peered closely.

There had been a dozen questions Eric had wanted to ask the elf, who had paled a bit, after extracting his blood, but fortunately, the card had no problem registering a net worth of 400 troy ounces of gold, or an 8 million credit balance.

So, with a number of adventurers looking at him a bit too intently, the mage had had time for only one question, telling Eric exactly what he had wanted to hear.

“Yes, my boy. You may indeed purchase absolutely everything in the Blue Quarter with your card, including property, and your balance never expires! There are neither fees nor interest, because, as I have already clearly stated, we are most definitely not a financial institution. Not on your world, at least. And,” he finished with a pointed look at the pair eagle-eyed adventurers behind Eric, waiting for their turn. “You can’t be robbed. This card is worthless to anyone save yourself or your designee when you pass on,” he said.

“What if it’s lost or stolen?” asked on of the pair waiting their turn.

The mage flashed a hard smile. “Then we hunt down your card and you pay gold for the privilege. And whoever stole your card might just end up paying for their crimes with their head.”

“Sounds fair,” the man said, politely nodding at Eric as he left.

At least the man had sounded genuinely curious and not conniving, Eric had thought when returning to the wand shop, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the look on the proprietress's face when Eric casually paid for a full set of three for him and Nelly both. And the minute she offhandedly mentioned that novice mages find the charged wands far easier to learn to use and master, and that all those extra charges meant lots of opportunity to master the wands regardless of mana reserves, he hadn’t hesitated to drop the coin for a full set of three charged wands and 2 personal chargers as well, even if the total cost he was paying was now 62 gold eagles worth, or 1.24 million credits.

And Rica was still gazing at him with hard eyes. “You just spent more than the cost of one of the elite suites it’s every adventurer’s dream to own, but almost no one does… on a bunch of wands, lover.”

Eric grinned. “Yes, yes I did. Including a full set of three wands that are basically magic laser pistols with charges. Because as Quilie herself implied, without breaking her precious oath of silence, elite offspring are far more likely to figure out wand manipulation with fully charged wands that didn’t require a complete novice to balance mana withdrawal and arcane manipulation all at once. And if there’s any chance that we actually have a knack for using magic, any of us, wouldn’t you want to level up wand skills that might open countless arcane combat classes to us, shooting out the spells hundreds of times a day in the training rooms above our future condos, while we leave the other wands recharging before alternating one wand for another? Because I know for a fact that if you’re just relying on your mana reserves, you only got a small handful of lightning bolts, max, before you’re basically tapped for the day, unless you’re an elf, or you have some synergistic blood-magic trick up your sleeve.”

He couldn’t help thinking about Alice at that moment, hoping that she and the rest of the gang were okay. Come to think of it, they should be in town. He would definitely make an effort to see them. No one else was more likely than they to know the score with Freetown, and on the off chance that they weren’t aware about possible the hostility being sent the way of all unorthodox mages, Eric would damn well fill them in.

Even Morgan’s eyes lit up with that. “Hell, that’s brilliant! If humans need to sleep to fully recharge, and we can normally only shoot off a handful of spells a day, then these rechargable wands are our secrets to power leveling those skills so much faster, and pretty much blowing any other wanna-be mage away in terms of practice, if nothing else. Why sweat our racial limitations if we got the energizer blue palace at our beck and call? Hell, maybe that’s the secret to me unlocking arcane potential and not dying in the pod. If I can learn to channel, even without a mana pool...”

“That was sort of the plan,” Eric admitted as Morgan swept him up in a great big bear hug, or might have, if Eric hadn’t been so many times stronger and considerably more massive than Morgan’s slender but definitely enthusiastic build.

“My man, Eric! Flash with the cash, saving our arcane asses, and with Magic malodorousness so potent that chicken-shit gnomes and weaker artifacts can’t hope to stand against it!”

Eric winced. “I wasn’t that bad at breakfast.”

This earned a crooked eyebrow from Morgan and Nelly both.

“Um...sorry, Eric. But you need to eat more greens,” Nelly teased. “Never have I regretted the couple points I put into Perception, seeing as it helps out with all sorts of things,” she said with an arch smile for a hotly blushing Morgan.

“Hey! I am perfectly normal sized.”

Nelly affectionately patted his shoulder. “Of course you are, love.” She turned to Eric. “I never regretted it, that is, until breakfast today.”

Eric winced. “Humans were eating carnivore diets for hundreds of thousands of years, and were arguably as fit at 60 as we are in the modern era at 40, with only tribal medicine at their fingertips.”

Nelly grinned. “That might be, hero, but their shit definitely didn’t smell like roses. And neither, apparently, did their farts.”

And you’re hardly a carnivore,” Rica said with a teasing snort. “I saw how you were with that chocolate cake and ice cream last night, and those crème brûlées this morning. You just like to eat lots of meat along with your sweets.”

Eric nodded. “You got it. That’s why I don’t eat any bread or rice. Why fill up on empty carbs that don’t taste abso-fucking-lutely fantastic?”

Rica rolled her eyes. “If you didn’t have a Vitality absolutely off the charts...”

“Which I do,” Eric said with a wink. “So I can eat whatever I want.”

“Speaking of food and decadent treats, is that what I think it is, just up ahead?” asked Nelly in an oddly reverential voice.

Eric frowned, having felt eyes on him for just a second… and then it was gone.

He turned to peer down the wide, tree-lined boulevard where Nelly was pointing, spotting what looked to be a certain high end coffee chain and ice cream shop, all rolled into one. Perhaps the only store he had seen so far that actually had a sizable crowd.

“So does this mean there’s actually a store that doesn’t just cater to the rich here?” Morgan half-jokingly said allowed, and a bemused Eric couldn’t help wondering the same thing, happy to wander over, never being one to stint from life’s culinary adventures, though not without gently passing Ria to her mom as his roving gaze took in everyone and everything to the best of his ability. And what a relief it was to find that in the shop, at least, everyone seemed far more interested in savoring their coffee, ice cream, milkshakes, and what looked to be classic diner fare in the company of friends and, yes, in at least a couple cases their families than they were about a couple fresh oddball adventurers wandering in.

Only then did Eric note that everyone, whether seated at well polished hardwood counters or the spacious tables in back were dressed in that collage of renaissance fair and post apocalyptic sheik that had become street casual. The only armor being worn by anyone were discreet shirts of silvered steel links under what was otherwise tasteful attire by the handful of serious adventurers radiating intense potency, and not one of them wore weaponry more significant than a saber, dirk, or a discretely sheathed wand.

Of course, Eric wasn’t above flashing his most apologetic smile when a pair of strikingly handsome adventurers, husband and wife, Eric was almost certain, turned to glare his way. The two perfectly beautiful blond haired blue eyed children behind them, licking their ice-cream cones and enjoying the free show, looked just like their parents.

“In case no one told you, it’s considered bad manners to go about armed and armored in the better parts of the city, if you’re not looking for trouble,” the woman said rather sharply.

The man by her side nodded in accord, looking for all the world like a Hollywood lead with his chiseled jaw, straw blond hair, and perfect Hollywood tanned features, his hand near, but not actually on, the hilt of his sword.

And Eric was at least diplomatic enough to bow, murmuring, “Apologies. It’s been a very hectic couple of days,” before turning to face the waitress ready to seat them who, to her credit, didn’t even blink at his request for two ice cream sundaes with the works.

“And two? Yes, let’s make that two root-beer floats, and a banana split.”

Eric then smiled at his bemused-looking friends. “So, what would you guys like to order?”

This earned good-natured chuckles, until they saw he was serious. Because if one couldn’t enjoy a little excess, then what was the point of superhuman stats?

“Sure, my adorable carnivore of a man, you go ahead and eat all the nom noms you need to be happy,” Rica said, before whispering into his ear. “I’ll make sure you burn it all off later.”

A comment that absolutely made Eric’s day, as they sat around enjoying good company and surprisingly delicious ice cream that, according to Nelly, tasted as farm fresh as farm fresh got.

It was chance to feel, for a few hours at least, like they were back home enjoying a nice day out with friends and family, and that, save for them all chilling at the renaissance fair, maybe nothing had changed. Even the well-to-do Professionals, Classers, and families that had decided to make the parlor one of their stops for the day warmed up to their presence soon enough, with only a few quips about primitive spears and tribal wear that Nelly, good-natured soul that she was, laughed off with a warm chuckle that made her instantly likable, patrons looking their way now with the bemused gazes of patrons eyeing favorite performers, not violent savages too clueless or wild to understand the rules of etiquette that kept a population of extremely powerful people now far too used to violence from tearing apart the last vestiges of society.

It was only when it came time to pay the bill, and Eric found himself down almost 200 credits, thought to be fair it had been a feast of dairy delights he had almost singlehandedly consumed, and he didn’t regret a single chocolate dipped cone of it. But it did bring back home the reality that the average mortal citizen, hell, the average starting adventurer, couldn’t afford to make this a daily thing.

Nelly grinned his way. “Do I even want to know how much our treats cost?”

Eric smirked, looking around, seeing that most of the patrons had already left. They seemed to have caught the tail end of the lunch rush hour, and Eric had both appreciated the convivial energy when temperaments had thawed, and the growing privacy as time had gone on. “And let you in on just how much ice-cream I consumed in one sitting? Hell no. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He gazed fondly at Ria then, happily giggling and playing with the soothing cold icecream she enjoyed mashing between her fingers until her mother gave an exasperated sigh, quickly cleaning her with the same harried look of love and exasperation worn by mothers everywhere, whether or not they were deadly spear warriors who had almost stolen his life, in addition to his heart.

Nelly gave Eric a knowing grin. “I think you’ll make an excellent daddy, Eric.”

Eric snorted. “Yeah, I can barely get my head on straight, and am juggling so many balls you can’t even see that it’s only a matter of time before they all fall on my head. And I still have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my class, let alone my life.” He flashed a fond smile for Ria. “I’m just surprised she actually lets me hold her. Kinda like I’m a big puppy, I guess.” He looked down at his crimson scaled armor. “Only… a well armored one?”

“I’ll say,” Morgan snorted. “Dude, you didn’t even take off your helmet!”

Eric shrugged. “It’s a well-designed open face helm that doesn’t impede my senses or my appetite. And this is our first day in brand-spanking new territory. And we might hope for the best, but that doesn’t do us shit if we miss what will be obvious to us three months from now, assuming we live that long.”

“Like polite high-level society taking issue with anyone wearing anything more than a mail shirt and a side-sword?” Nelly archly noted. “Like we’re violating a fucking peace treaty or something?”

“Exactly!” Eric said with a bright smile. “We never know when we’ll inadvertently piss the powers that be off, so best we’re fully armed and armored at all times.”

Rica snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s the message were supposed to take from our little encounter with Lady Grey. But we can always eat at the Blue Palace dining room until things cool down for us.”

Eric had to hold back his sigh. Somehow, he didn’t see his situation with either the CSA or the goblin assholes who were both pissed as hell that he had slipped through their trap and had let slip just how much they despised humans while doing so, was going to cool down any time soon.

Not with a million credit bounty on his head, anyway.

Just one more thing he’d have to get around to handling.

One way, or another.

“Alright!” Rica said brightly. “Speaking of armor etiquette, I think it’s high time we upgraded our adventuring gear. Eni pointed to a Dwarf-run Blue Corp armory, just a block away.” She chuckled ruefully. “If it’s anything like the wand store, the quality will be excellent and the prices will be absolutely absurd. So, let’s say we do a little shopping, as long as my boyfriend’s buying.”

She flashed a teasing smile and Eric couldn’t help but chuckle and kiss her soft, inviting lips. “You’re damn right it’s my treat.” His gaze was both gentle and heartfelt. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Rica Lightfoot.” He turned to a blushing Nelly, who was gazing at the pair of them a bit too intently. “You too, Nelly. Since you’re going to be watching my girl’s back, let’s make sure you can stay in one piece while doing so.”

“Damn straight!” she said with an enthusiastic fist pump. “And I owe you so much I’ll never be able to repay, but you’re now officially my absolute best friend, next to Rica and, of course, this goofball.” She said, giving a flushing Morgan a squeeze. She then cleared her throat, looking just a touch embarrassed. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask this, but would it be at all possible to get my boo at least one of those fancy-looking chain mail shirts? I mean, I know you’ve already gone way beyond the call of duty,” she said in a hurried rush, as if fearing Eric’s displeasure. “But, um, I know he was dead serious about doing all he can to unlock any potential for adventuring so we can make sure him daring the pod isn’t a death sentence.”

Eric was touched by the tender look she flashed an embarrassed-looking Morgan, conveying so much with those soft green eyes of hers. Her fierce hopes and anxious worries, her acceptance, even admiration, that the boy who had fallen so low while still holding fast to her heart was now willing to risk it all to better himself, to truly be a man worthy of her heart.

Even if it cost him his life.

And this, more than anything else, redeemed him in Nelly’s eyes, and Eric’s as well.

“Sure,” Eric said, clapping Morgan on the shoulder. “I think he’d look dashing in a nice shirt of fine silvered mail. A real renaissance man, if you will.”

Morgan smirked. “Yeah. Definitely. And Eric?”

“Yeah?”

The boy swallowed. “Thanks,” he said, intent eyes no longer flinching from Eric’s own. “If you hadn’t been willing to help me, to help me believe that there was a point to going on, to seeing our arrival here as a new chapter of my life, a fresh start… if you hadn’t been willing to spring for high end wands I’ll do absolutely everything I can to master, I promise you that , I doubt I’d be hear at all. Just another bitter broken man like Nils, and maybe just as dead.”

“But you’re not,” Eric said with a smile. “You’re very much alive. And with the right armor, let’s see if we can keep you that way. Whether your destined to be an adventurer or not.”

“My man Eric!” This earned him an unexpected hug, the boy then clearing his throat with a smirk, and racing out the door. “Last one there foots the bill!” he said, dashing across the street to the bemused smiles of his friends, and it was only when Eric was finally out the door, reaching for the free hand of his girl, now holding her daughter close, that he sensed icy death just a single flickering heartbeat away.