Margrethe stared at the comfortable confines of her room in the Ranar Guild Hall, letting her eyes rest on the Knife’s Banner she’d hung on the wall when she was first admitted to the Guild. It was good to be home, but she couldn’t just sit around; she needed to report to the Guildmaster.

That was always her first task after returning from a Tutorial, and it was more vital than ever. The Guildmaster would be very interested in this one; it was unique in her experience. Serenity alone had changed everything, but Margrethe had taken the time to talk to many of the other students, and she’d found that the world they described was in some ways like her own and in others very different. Knowing that was going to be key for dealing with them.

Margrethe’s thoughts were interrupted by the door to her room opening.

“Margrethe?” Guildmaster Oathbinder stood in the doorway. “I’ve been expecting you back any time now for a few days. How was the Tutorial? More importantly, what can you tell me about Serenity?”

How did the Guildmaster always do that?

Arkandaeon returned to where he left from for the Tutorial. For him, it was the inside of a well-run business he’d made a deal with before accepting the invitation to be an instructor.

Only the building no longer looked well run. It was completely dark, unlike before when it was well-lit.

It also no longer smelled well-run; there was a horrible sewer-like rotting smell everywhere and the once neat arrangement of cells looked partially smashed. Arkandaeon wasn’t at all confident he wanted to know why, but he wanted to step in whatever was causing the smell even less.

He pulled his firestarter out of the bag he always carried and blessed his foresight. He’d assumed it would be useful for something in the Tutorial and while he hadn’t actually needed it there, he needed it now. It wasn’t as good as a real light, but it could maintain a fire for a few minutes, at least.

There was an actual pile of rubble only a few feet in front of Arkandaeon. He held the firestarter out towards it to see what he could make out. Had the ceiling simply fallen in? Perhaps the World had decided to roll over and shook the foundations of the building?

No, that didn’t seem to be it. The damage to the ceiling was uneven and almost looked spherical? How could that be?

Arkandaeon took a step forward and the flickering light drew his attention to something red on the floor. He glanced down so he wouldn't step on it and suddenly realized he was looking at clothing.

An acolyte’s uniform on a dead acolyte.

“By Lykandeon, what happened here?”

[Quest Available: Scapegoat]

[You have arrived at the site of a battle where acolytes died and were not retrieved. Figure out what happened and who is responsible before someone tries to pin the blame on you.]

[Reward: A way to deflect blame, information that Lykandeon would desire if he knew it existed]

[Accept Quest?]

“Yes.” There was no question about accepting a Quest like that. Either reward would have been reason enough; deflecting blame would keep him alive and finding out something Lykandeon wanted to know could potentially elevate him an entire rank in the priesthood.

Where should he start?

Ekari glanced around her room. She’d left for the Tutorial from the chapel, but when she reappeared, she’d appeared in her room. She knew what that meant; a service for Lykandeon was happening, and the chapel was temporarily protected against teleportation. The Voice could almost certainly punch through it, but it wouldn’t.

The surprising thing was that she’d been placed in her quarters instead of outside the chapel. It was convenient for her, but surprising. It seemed to break the ‘closest safe location’ rule the Voice used for blocked teleports.

Unless … perhaps it didn’t consider the hallways safe for her? That was worrying, yet somehow reassuring. It meant that she was different enough that someone might notice something. She’d been trying and had advanced her Path quite a bit, but she knew she hadn’t completely cleansed Lykandeon’s influence. She doubted she ever would. Memories were a form of influence, after all, and despite the pain they sometimes brought she didn’t want to lose her memories.

She hurried around the room, grabbing the few things she could that were hers, including the small figurine hidden in the back of her dresser. It was the only thing she’d managed to save from the time before Lykandeon, a figure of ancestral power that had been in her family for generations.

It was broken and no longer held power, but that didn’t matter to Ekari. What mattered was that her mother had given it to her as a child. Her mother was no longer the kind, cheerful princess of Ekari’s youth; instead, she was a stern priestess of Lykandeon, insistent on praising Him.

As if Ekari’s thoughts had summoned her, Ekari’s door opened and her mother stood framed in the doorway. For a moment, Ekari saw a worried mother, relieved to see her daughter. The moment vanished like dew on a hot summer morning, leaving the stern face of a High Priestess. “Did the Tutorial go well, daughter? Have you finally received a Path forward into Lykandeon’s arms?”

Ekari had prepared for this. She hadn’t realized it would be so hard. That was still her mother, despite everything.

Ekari shook her head, trying to seem quietly sad. It was the same way she’d declared she didn’t have the Path available for years. Of course, it was truly gone now. “No, mother, I’m still Tier Three. I did find something, however. Someone, truly.”

The fine art of lying her ass off meant that she needed to stay to the truth as much as possible. She didn’t think her mother had a lie-detection Skill, but it could never be ruled out. More importantly, her mother had the very large advantage of knowing her daughter. Ekari had learned to lie, but she’d never learned to like lying. It was simply necessary.

“Someone?” High Priestess Karin grinned slightly. “Does that mean I should be expecting a wedding soon?”

“N-no!” That interpretation of her words hadn’t even occurred to Ekari and she flushed. At least it meant that her reaction of surprise was genuine; hopefully that would cover any faults in what she said next. “No, he’s not my type. I don’t think he even considered that I’m female. That’s not what’s important. What’s important is that he’s an anomaly. I couldn’t get his rankings, but he knows runes and he’s a mage; one that casts silently and motionlessly. I’m pretty sure he’s also a spell designer, but he didn’t say that. And he’s low Tier!”

Tier Three currently. Ekari wasn’t about to admit that she’d seen him spellcasting at Tier Zero; that was nonsensical. Her mother would probably assume-

“Tier Four was the cap for your Tutorial, was it not? That’s quite impressive for a Tier Four.” Ekari’s mother didn’t waste any time in rubbing in the fact that her daughter was only Tier Three. “Were you able to learn where he got his knowledge from?”

Ekari shook her head. “He wouldn’t say. I got the impression that it was family secrets; he muttered about his father a few times.”

That definitely wasn’t completely accurate. Ekari was smart enough to put the pieces together, and she knew that they didn’t all belong to the same puzzle; there were simply too many pieces. In many ways, that was better here. She could pick and choose the pieces she wanted to reveal, hiding the things that made absolutely no sense.

Like the fact that not only was Serenity a Death mage, he was quite possibly one of the most powerful mages Ekari had ever met. He did things that her Tier Six mage father couldn’t, and he did it quickly, silently, and motionlessly other than a little bit of theatrics. She’d seen the “different Affinity” demonstration and she didn’t think her father could have made such a strong breeze start and stop so quickly.

She knew he couldn’t have done it with any of the esoteric Affinities; he used the real Affinities to do real things, and mostly considered the esoteric Affinities to be “of theoretical interest only”. He’d told her that more than once; unless you were a summoner, Void was useless because that’s where it went. It didn’t work in the physical world.

Serenity broke the rules.

“Can you send a message for him to come here? I am certain he will love to continue his teaching under the watchful eye of Lykandeon.” the High Priestess pulled her hands together at her chest and leaned forward slightly, symbolizing her deliberate invocation of her Deity’s Name.

As a Tier Three without a Path showing Lykandeon’s “favor”, Ekari was barely allowed to say his Name; she certainly wasn’t allowed to bow to her own words. She didn’t mind.

Ekari shook her head. “I don’t think a message would work. He has things waiting for him at home. His wife carries their first child.”

Ekari wasn’t certain if they were actually formally married or not, but from the way Serenity talked about Rissa, they might as well be. If nothing else, bearing his child would formally enshrine their connection. At least, it would have under the conventions Ekari grew up with; in Lykandeon’s church, you were only married if you did a formal wedding in front of a priest or priestess. If you didn’t marry formally, you were simply two individuals, not a married couple, and you didn’t get the married couple benefits.

It had never been relevant to Ekari, but it had lost her a friend more than once. Getting married in the Church was often enough to get a Path of Lykandeon to appear, and after that they were always more interested in Lykandeon than in remaining Ekari’s friend.

“And yet you bring him up.” High Priestess Karin frowned. “That means you think there is another way to turn him to our benefit. Perhaps something to do with his wife? Where are they, I can have someone sent.”

That wasn’t what Ekari meant at all! “I should go. I can talk to him, tell him what matters. Convince him to help.”

Of course, Ekari meant to try to convince him to help free her, not to help Lykandeon, but it was still true. She did want his help. If nothing else, he was an excellent excuse to leave Aeon.

“Will it help you achieve a Tier Four Path?” Her mother had long since restricted Ekari from doing anything that didn’t at least have a chance of getting her to a higher Tier.

Ekari nodded. “I think so. What little I was able to work with him in the Tutorial let me gain a new Tier Three Path, and you know how rare that is before the end of the Tutorial.” Working with Serenity might not be quite the right word, but it was definitely Serenity’s fault. What Ekari had actually done was to hint Echo into the correct direction.

High Priestess Karin did seem startled at that. “They normally appear after the Tutorial is over. Why did you not convince him to come to Aeon then?”

Ekari shook her head and carefully talked around the name of the God she no longer followed. “Speaking is forbidden, you know that. It’s not permitted to poach in a Tutorial, and also we are not supposed to speak of that which makes Aeon special.”

The High Priestess seemed puzzled, then her eyebrows lifted in realization. “Ah, the Rule of Concealment. For this, an exception would likely have applied, but I can find no fault in your decision. The Rules must be followed.” She bowed her head for a moment, paying respect to the God who gave the Rules.

She watched Ekari for a moment and Ekari knew better than to say anything. When her mother had that expression, she was making a decision and interrupting her would only make her decide not to follow your advice.

“Very well; the Rule is lifted for this purpose. You may leave Aeon and travel to convince this paragon of magic to either come to Aeon or teach you. You may speak of God to convince him that it is the correct and honorable decision. I do hope that you have at least pretended to become his friend already?” The High Priestess paused, her expression showing that she didn’t actually expect her hope to be borne out.

Ekari simply nodded. She thought she’d done quite well at becoming Serenity’s friend. It was even genuine on her part; there were so few who were willing to actually be friends with the head Administrator.

“Good. I will await your success.” Ekari’s mother left without another word. It was something she’d never have done before she accepted Lykandeon’s Path, but now the kind words she’d once spent on her family were reserved for her God.

Ekari felt bitter about her past, but at least she had a way out now. The permission of the High Priestess was going to make leaving a lot safer. She’d planned to sneak out, but this would be far easier; she’d even be able to take some obvious traveling supplies.