Faye and her entourage of guards, militia members, and civilians, those they had rescued from the eastern gate, had lost the daylight quickly. In Lóthaven, the light would fade rapidly because the sun set behind the massive peaks of the western mountain range.

They had stopped at the Barracks almost an hour ago, picking up some communications for the Guild. Faye had checked with Lower Administrator Gria. The Guilders were happy enough now that the Guard were listening.

In fact, Sergeant Thura, the brusque woman who had greeted Faye and the militia earlier, had insisted on attaching a pair of guards to her team. Faye had shrugged and said that the extra defences for the towns folk would be welcome.

Now, with half an hour of quick walking between her and the Guild, on a normal day, Faye grimaced as she contemplated their decision to push on this late in the day.

Moving this many people at once, safely, was a difficult and slow task. Admittedly, she was sure that it was quicker than it could be as there were no young children, Deorsa’s son notwithstanding. The boy was quite capable. He kept close to Faye at the head of the column easily.

He still did not want to talk.

On the way out to the eastern section of the town, Faye had led her militia in quietly. Now, however, Faye went into the barriers with aggressive tactics. The quicker she got in there and burned down, sometimes literally, the opposition the faster they would get these people to safety.

One of the guards approached her after the third such blitz attack. He looked uncomfortable in the fiery embers of the flaming bramble.

“Adventurer,” he began, but he hesitated to say anything else.

“Yes?” she said, giving him a nod.

“Whilst we appreciate your skill… we are concerned that we might be rushing into a fight we cannot control, with so many vulnerable here… what happens if we take on more than we can fight?”

Faye looked over the burning bramble, mentally tallying the kill notifications for the lesser briars. There were dozens hiding in the thorny walls, usually. Once this one had been mostly cleared, she reached out with her hand and drew in as much of the mana that floated around as she could.

[Mana Sense] told her that the majority of it had been reabsorbed. It was something she had tried on a whim after setting the first bramble barrier alight. It had not removed all the flames, but enough of the mana was reduced that the brambles’ natural resistances meant it would not rage out of control and burn the town down.

She was not sure she could live with that kind of destruction on her hands.

“I appreciate it’s a concern,” she said, eventually. “But personally, I am more concerned that we end up leaving these people outside in the middle of the night. Harder to protect someone when you can’t see what you are protecting them from, wouldn’t you agree?”

The guard nodded. “Aye, which is why if we go slow and steady, avoid the major routes, we can be sure to escape notice until we’re back at the Guild’s hall.”

Faye cocked her head to the side. “Have you travelled to the Guild since the Primalists came to visit, guardsman?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, I have,” she replied. “The brambles are placed strategically, but they’re not always defended. Those that are, well, we can burn through them easily enough. Going around them will take twice as long and we will still need to fight through the biggest ones. This way, we reduce the effectiveness of the enemy throughout the town and get our charges back to the Guild. A win-win.”

The guard did not have anything to say to that, but Faye could tell he was unhappy with the response. She did not care, though. There were anxieties crowding the back of her mind and she knew that these people were not truly safe until in that square in front of the Guild.

They needed the protection of numbers of Guilders and solid, defensible walls. None of the houses around here would be suitable for all of them, anyway. Waiting here for the rest of the night was not an option. Especially considering how this was approximately five o’clock, or so. Winter meant that the nights were long, cold, and dangerous.

Encouraging the others to keep up, she made sure that the dropping temperature did not affect them as much as it could be keeping their blood circulating quickly.

She was not oblivious to their complaints, of course. She overheard more than one person grumble about the pace.

You’ll thank me, later.

By the time Faye led the column of trudging civilians back into the Guild’s immediate territory, she was ready to sleep standing.

The Guilders that welcomed them back were as efficient as before at grabbing supplies and bringing them to the folks that needed them. The rescued folk were taken away in groups to whatever they needed the most.

Soon, only Faye, the guards, and the militia were standing in the square.

One of the Guilders arrived, smiling at the group.

“Well done, everyone!” he called out, spreading his arms wide. “You’ve all earned a break, and… oh, who’s this?”

Faye looked down to where the man was speaking. She smiled as she realised that Duír had not moved from her side.

“Hey, you’re okay now,” she said, gesturing off to the others huddling together under tents that were serving food and hot drinks between warm and bright braziers. “You can go with the others to get something to eat or drink, you know.”

The boy shook his head.

“He’s called Duír,” Faye said to the Guilder, with a sad smile. “I, uh, brought him back.”

There was nothing else she wanted to say in the boy’s earshot, the memory of who must have been his older brother was harrowing enough for her, let alone Duír.

“Oh, my son!”

The shout came from the other side of the square. Faye looked up in surprise. Last she had spoken to him, this man had been siding with Rían over something… idiotic, in the market.

Now, though, he was rushing forward with his arms held out.

“Duír, my boy!”

The boy hesitated only a moment, as if he could not believe what he was hearing, but the moment his father was close enough for the boy to see his face in the light of the nearest brazier, the hard facade that he had adopted broke like a busted dam.

He bawled and ran forward to his dad.

Deorsa grabbed his son, hard, as he fell to his knees on the paved floor of the square. He sobbed as he held on to Duír’s shirt tightly.

Faye shuffled a little, not sure that she wanted to watch the man’s tearful reunion with his boy but certain that she must be the one to tell him of the older boy’s fate. She swallowed hard against the knot of emotion in her throat as she imagined his reaction.

The man was checking the boy over, crying as he smiled and looked into the boy’s eyes.

“You are safe now, safe. I’m so sorry you were alone.”

Faye stepped forward, slightly. Deorsa looked up at her with teary eyes.

“You are the one that brought my boy to me?”

She nodded.

Just one of them, she tried to say, but could not bring herself to.

“Wait… I recognise you,” the man said, standing awkwardly whilst still trying to hold onto his son. “You’re the girl. The, the uncrested girl? I don’t understand.”

Faye smiled. “Yes. Though, I’ve levelled since then.”

The smile faded. She tried again.

“Deorsa… I… I’m sorry, but…”

Duír, looking up at Faye from beneath his father’s arms, holding on for dear life, spoke into the stuttering gaps of Faye’s aborted speech.

“Dad, the bastards killed Lus.”

Faye fell silent, staring at the man and his son.

Deorsa looked down at Duír, the tears in his eyes overflowing once more. He took up Duír in a hug and pulled him up so that he stood at his full height.

“I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you both.”

Faye turned, she wanted to escape. The man’s raw grief was too much for her.

“Wait.”

She paused.

“Thank you,” Deorsa whispered over the pain in his voice. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have been left without either son.”

Faye shook her head. “Don’t thank me,” she whispered back. “Please don’t.”

The man let his son down, gently. He stepped forward and grasped Faye’s shoulders. She almost flinched. There was anger in his eyes.

“Did you kill them that did it?”

She nodded, firmly. “Yes. They’re dead.”

“Good.”

Deorsa let go of her shoulders and he turned back to his son. “Come on, son, let’s get you inside. You must be hungry, though, do you want something to eat? They made some excellent stew over here…”

His voice faded into the background hubbub as he walked away with his little boy. Duír was looking up at his father, tears still streaking his grubby face. But he looked back at Faye, catching her watching. He waved.

Faye lifted her hand and gave a half-hearted wave back.

The Guilder quietly cleared their throat.

“That was a very good thing you did, Adventurer Faye.”

Faye looked around, realising that she was staring after the boy with tears in her eyes.

“But I couldn’t save them both…”

The Guilder and a few of the militia around her shook their heads.

“You will never save them all. But everyone you do save is another man’s son, daughter, wife, husband, father, mother… they’re worth saving, even one life.”

Faye closed her eyes.

She knew it was true. But it did not feel like she had done a good thing. Why had Deorsa been so okay with her failure?

Her limbs felt heavy, but she lifted a hand and angrily pushed away the tears. She sniffed and opened her eyes.

“Is the Administrator available?” she asked.

“Yes, Adventurer. She is in her office; shall I take you there?”

Faye shook her head. “No, I remember the way.”

Activating [Mana Sense], Faye looked at the Adventurer’s Guild hall, the massive building dominating an entire side of this square’s boundary.

It, too, shone in her sight magnificently. The hall and the Barracks were the two most magical buildings in the town. It made sense.

She shut off the power before she reached the door, which was open, and she slipped inside. As usual, the lobby of the Guild felt something akin to a library, that speaking too loudly was forbidden. The place was filled with people, though. They were going about their roles with as much fervour as she expected. These people were nothing if not determined.

A few nodded at her as she passed. She was not sure what she saw in their eyes, but it made her a little uncomfortable.

Soon enough, she found herself at the Administrator’s office. She knocked.

“Enter.”

“Evening, Administrator,” Faye said. “Do you have a minute?”

The Administrator looked up from whatever she had been doing and smiled tiredly.

“Adventurer Faye, welcome back. I am sorry I was not there to greet you.”

“Don’t be, it’s late,” she responded. “I wanted to let you know that the Guilders were delivered safely to the Barracks. I also scouted the eastern gate… and, uh, well, drove off the Primalists that were quartered there.”

The Administrator blinked. She then rubbed her face a little.

“You… drove off? The Primalists?”

“Yes, ma’am, though you might say ‘eliminated’ is a better word.”

The Administrator noted Faye’s note of disgust, she saw.

“Good, so the eastern gate is currently free of enemy forces.”

“So far as we know,” she said. “I did let the Guard know. They might be able to spare a team to secure it. There are many Primalist barriers left in the town. But I get the impression that they are no longer blockading the main streets as much as they once were.”

“Why do you say that?” the Administrator asked, she sat back in her chair and rested a hand thoughtfully on her chin.

“Because for the most part, they have been allowing us to pass unchallenged. There are lesser briars in the bramble still, but nothing worse than that, really.”

The Administrator nodded. “That’s good to hear but begs the question of where they have all gone.”

“Exactly. There is also the, uh, kidnapping.”

“Go on.”

“Adults, children, they’re being rounded up by the Primalists, ma’am. I wish I could tell you it was only to deprive us of fighters, or to weaken morale. It isn’t though.”

The Administrator’s eyes grew hooded as she realised what Faye was saying.

“I was afraid of that,” she admitted, quietly. “You hear stories, sometimes, of groups that use sacrifices to power greater magic… or some other ritualistic nonsense.”

“It isn’t complete nonsense, though,” Faye interrupted. “They summoned a stone golem that was different than anything else they had used before. It took a lot to take that down.”

“Did you manage that with your militia escorts?”

Faye shook her head. “No, it took the intervention of Rían to take it out.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, the young scion is doing his part. Either way, that’s good news, Faye. Well done. Now, you must be exhausted.”

Faye’s energy levels were dropping precipitously, and the Administrator pointing it out made her flag further.

“A little, yes.”

“The room you used previously is still available for you. Private, safe. Use it as much as you need.”

Faye nodded but leaned forward. “First… I have some questions.”

The Administrator gestured for her to continue.

“I can tell that I’ve been getting stronger, I can wield a sword in one hand when before I would have needed two for the same control…”

The Administrator nodded. “That’s natural to go along with your growth, yes.”

“Going purely by the numbers, though, should I not be… two and half times stronger than I was? I don’t think I am quite that much stronger.”

The other woman smiled, not unkindly. “Ah, there’s a slight misconception there. The number you see in your attributes does not directly correlate to the power or strength of your arm at all times. Think of it more as a relative indicator. Remember that there are those out there who never see a number for their attributes. Instead, they use a feeling. Those that do see their system often report the same issue you’re describing here, however. They feel that they should be stronger because the number is higher. Whilst the system is recognising that you have gained that Strength, for example, it does not mean that everything you do is exactly 15 points higher than what you started as.”

“Why use the numbers at all, then?” Faye asked. “If they don’t represent concrete increases in power.”

The Administrator shook her head. “Because it is an abstraction, a… lens through which you can view the world. In this case, it is telling you multiple things at once. You have a greater capacity for Strength than you did before when it increases. It is not always represented by an immediate increase in actual muscle.”

Faye looked down at her arms, which looked leaner and more toned, but not necessarily larger than what she had started out with.

“Okay, that does make sense. Otherwise, everyone would be a beefcake.”

“I am not sure what a ‘beefcake’ might be, but it sounds strange.”

“Ignore that for now. So, if the numbers don’t matter—”

“I’m sorry Faye, I feel that the discussion is turning away from us both. I did not mean to say the numbers do not matter. In fact, the numbers are important, as they are your way of visualising the way the system is assisting you. You have not long since crested. Your system and your body are not fully synced, yet. Until you have grown used to the changes of the system, you will not see the type of increase in raw power that you mentioned just now.”

“Ahh,” Faye said, nodding. “Okay, now that makes sense. The system is giving me greater potential, but my body hasn’t fully grown into it.”

“Essentially, yes. However, things are complicated from your entry to the system. That may change some of what we know, here in Lóthaven at least.”

Faye rubbed her face. It was all a little much.

“Okay, one more quick one before my headache gets worse.”

“If you insist,” the Administrator said with a grin.

“One of my skills says it is locked. What does that mean?”

The Administrator frowned, then took a tablet of stone up from her desk. She waved a hand over it for a moment.

“Do I have your permission to examine your skills, temporarily?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes of quiet passed as the Administrator read through the skills and whatever else she was looking at.

“It seems to be a case of your class switch redistribution having unlocked a class-specific skill, without being able to utilise the effects of your old class skill.”

“Hmm,” Faye mumbled. “So, what, I can get [Swordfighter’s Sense] back again? It was a good skill. When it’s locked, it doesn’t do anything.”

“The system locks skills that are damaged, or unduly dangerous, until such a time as the person can safely wield it again. In this case, it seems more likely that the system tried to integrate it with your [Mana Sense], which is a standard Mage skill, but ran out of skill points to do so properly.”

Faye grimaced, reminded that her skill points had been used up in the class switch.

“So, I get more skill points and I can merge the skills?”

“Once the old skill is unlocked again, yes. I’m not sure what would unlock it, however.”

Faye tried not to let her disappointment be too evident. “Alright, thank you for taking me through that. Also, how do I level skills?”

“It seems to me you have levelled skills adequately before now,” the Administrator said, slight confusion marring her tone. “Has there been a problem?”

“Mainly that I don’t know how I’m doing that. Fire dart is at level four, but scorching lance is still one. Yet, my newest spell is level two. I managed to get swordfighter’s sense to fifth level, but spellcasting is still one. The problem is that I use all my skills and spells. I’m not sure what makes them level and what doesn’t, and it’s been bugging me.”

“It is usually not the rote repetition of a skill or spell that enables it to grow, but the studied use and practice of it,” she said, with the air of something said many times. “What this means in practise is that often skills or spells used in high danger situations, or in new ways, are more likely to level than those used regularly but without inspiration.”

The pain in Faye’s head had grown to a full-blown headache, now, and she just nodded. “Okay, that… does make some sense. But I am now desperately in need of a dark room. I’m going to take my leave.”

“Very well, Adventurer. Remember, you are growing incredibly fast. Faster than anyone I have had the pleasure to speak to before. You must consolidate your gains at some point.”

Faye grimaced. “Not much chance of that when there are kids to rescue, is there?”

“Quite,” the older woman matched Faye’s expression. “Well, good night. Sleep well. Don’t get out of bed for at least eight hours.”

Faye had no problem accepting that mission.

She barely remembered getting to the room that she had already used. But, true enough, it was empty of other people, so she flopped into the bed and was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.