Talia followed on Baruk’s heels, her eyes agog at the city of Darukar. Even from a distance, it had seemed magnificent, but her awe had overwhelmed her the closer she came to the majestic city of the dead. Up close, she could see that the black stone that comprised most of the buildings was awash with carved runes, and the bright red trim hummed with mana. To her, it felt welcoming, but with her ascension had come a new ability to sense the attunement of mana. Most of the time, that sense hovered in the back of her mind, easily ignored. But in Darukar, she felt like she was being bathed in deathly energy.

And it felt wonderful, if a little distracting.

Almost as if he could read her mind, Darukar glanced back, saying, “You’ll get used to it after a while. It took me almost a month to get my bearings.”

Talia nodded, still following closely behind the undead man. Still wearing his lusterless black armor and a huge greatsword across his back, Baruk stood out among the city’s other residents. Despite being an eclectic mix of zombies, vampires, and other, more unidentifiable races of undead, they seemed otherwise normal. It was a bit disconcerting, seeing a zombie manning a food cart or a vampire seamstress, but in the week since Talia had arrived in Darukar, she’d grown more accustomed to the sheer normality of the city and its population.

Over the past week since she’d arrived in the city of the dead, Talia had experienced something of an orientation as Baruk showed her around and helped her to get settled in. In that time, she’d managed to learn a bit more about the city’s history, and what she’d found was a testament to how durable people could be. Over the past thousand years, the various races of undead – from evolved zombies like Baruk to vampires like Adriel – had managed to carve out a place in the world. Doing so hadn’t been easy; they were beset on all sides by enemies. But still, they had persisted, creating a kingdom out of nothing. For Talia, it was inspiring.

Of course, the lands of the living saw it differently, but the Kingdom of El’Kireth was powerful enough to dissuade conflict. So long as undead kept to themselves, they were left mostly alone. There were plenty of border skirmishes, and there had also been dozens of wars in the past thousand years, but throughout it all, the undead had persisted. As a result, there was something approaching peace – or at least a pact of non-aggression – with their neighbors.

The same couldn’t be said for the dungeon at the center of the city.

Talia looked up at the looming pillar of green light. The land within five miles of that pillar remained abandoned. Once, well before the founding of El’Kireth, there had been a city of the living there. But now, it was home only to the abominations that were the result of the unchecked vital energy that flowed from the dungeon.

At first, Talia had found it odd that Darukar had been built so close to the pillar, but that confusion hadn’t lasted very long. Upon their approach to the city, the deathly mana that permeated the entire kingdom had grown more potent with each step, and Adriel had explained that there existed a line of demarcation between life and death. The closer one come to that line, the more powerful the deathly mana was. Thus, the city had been built to take advantage of that dense mana, which was further reinforced by the runes that covered every inch of the metropolis.

It was all very interesting, but the most valuable part of being in the city was how relaxing it had been. Ever since her transformation, Talia had been on her guard. Certainly, Zeke and Pudge had accepted her, but at the end of the day, she’d always felt like she’d been stranded behind enemy lines. If she had been exposed, it wouldn’t have taken long for the pitchforks to come out. Sure, she probably could have handled it, but that didn’t make it any less stressful.

But in Darukar, not only did she feel comforted by the death attuned mana, but she also reveled in the notion that she didn’t have to hide anymore. Just walking through the streets without having her hood pulled up had been more of a relief than she could have ever imagined.

Still, that pillar of green vital energy loomed over everything, reminding her that all was not perfect in the paradise of death. To that end, Baruk led her to a building close to the city’s center, only a mile from the demarcation between life and death. The death attuned mana hung thick in the air, mingling with the everpresent fog and soothing Talia’s nerves.

The building itself was, like was the case with the rest of the structures within the city, constructed of black stone trimmed in red. The architecture followed the same theme as well, with graceful arches, soaring towers, and sharp steeples. To call the building merely beautiful would have been a vast understatement. Even for Talia, who’d grown up in a palace, it was arrestingly, strikingly magnificent.

Baruk led her up a series of shallow steps and into the building. The moment Talia stepped through the arched double doors and beheld the entryway, she let out an appreciative gasp.

“Impressive, right?” said Baruk, stopping and turning to grin at her. “Welcome to the headquarters for the Deathguard. Let’s get you tested and registered.”

Talia nodded and followed Baruk inside, but she couldn’t help but goggle at her surroundings. The first thing she’d noticed were the detailed murals that adorned the walls, each scene depicting a horde of noble undead warriors battling against misshapen abominations. However, she also couldn’t ignore the spacious room’s occupants. Men and women, all undead, armed, and armored congregated within. Some were zombies, like Baruk. Others had the distinct pale complexions and sharp canines that marked them as vampires. But there were a number of other flavors of undead like specters, thin wights, and even a couple of shifty-looking ghouls.

If she’d seen such a sight during her time in the Radiant Isles, Talia would have run for the hills. Even after having seen what she’d seen within Darukar, she was still a little taken aback by the sheer variety. And the dangerous aura radiating from each person in the room. It wasn’t anything tangible or measurable – not like her sense of mana – but it was palpable all the same. It was in the way they moved. The way they seemed to watch everything at once. Even the way they stood. It all said one thing very, very clearly: each and every person in that room was dangerous.

Talia followed Baruk through the crowd, and though a few of the undead noted their passage, none seemed overly concerned. Why would they be? Talia could feel that most of them were more than capable of ripping her to pieces, if that’s what they wanted. It had been some time since she’d felt inadequate – not since she’d been reborn, really – but in that room, she could feel just how insignificant and weak she really was.

And she hated it.

She had never really let her resolve to grow stronger waver, but if it had, the short walk through that room would have been enough to bring it back with a vengeance. Talia had spent the first fifteen years of her life feeling weak and directionless, and she refused to ever go back to feeling like that again.

So, it was with renewed surety that she followed Baruk to a massive counter at the back of the room. It was made of the white wood of the blood oak, and its surface had been polished to a dull shine. Behind the hulking form of that counter was a thin wight wearing a formal suit. Like was the case with every other wight Talia had seen, he was completely hairless, with wide, angular shoulders and a body so thin as to be nearly skeletal.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice coming out in an ethereal breath.

Baruk answered, “Registration for the Deathguard. New arrival in the city. We need to get her tested and assigned.”

“Indeed,” said the wight. Then, he turned to Talia, fixing her with hollow eyes as he asked, “Are you here of your own free will?”

“I am,” she answered. Apparently, recruitment of a new member of the Deathguard was a big deal, and it brought with it some sort of benefits for the sponsor. In this case, that would be Baruk. However, some unsavory members were not above trying to exploit that system by dragging people in against their will. The Deathguard tried to keep that kind of thing to a minimum, but some still snuck through.

“Very well,” the Deathguard representative said. “Take the prospective member to room thirteen, where she will be tested. Your reward will be dependent on her evaluation.”

Soon enough, Talia found herself being led through the building and to a room in the back. Once there, Baruk stopped in front of the door and said, “Alright, head on in. There’s an evaluator in there. You remember what we said, right?”

Talia nodded, but she didn’t give voice to the answer. She didn’t need to. Instead, she headed inside, where she found a portly woman with the pale complexion of a vampire. She wore a black dress with elaborate lace trim and sat behind a table, upon which was a simple, unadorned blue plaque.

“Sit, sit,” she said, her wide smile revealing her sharp teeth. “A prospective member! So exciting!”

“Uh…thanks?” Talia said, sitting across from her.

“No – thank you! Not everyone is willing to work for the greater good,” the woman said. “I hope you get good results!”

“So…what do I do?”

“Just put your hand on the stone, dear,” the vampire said. “We’ll get you sorted out!”

While that answered Talia’s question, it didn’t really provide much information. Neither had Baruk or Adriel explained what was going to happen, save that she would be tested in some way. If she did well in this test, it would affect her placement within the Deathguard. In the unlikely even that she failed to meet the organization’s standards, she would be given the option of backing out or taking an administrative role. Even if that happened, it was still a route to greater strength, and there were plenty of stories of people who’d climbed from the very bottom to achieve true power.

Of course, Talia hoped she wouldn’t have to do that.

So, she put her hand on the blue stone, and it immediately lit up with white runes. In an instant, those runes began to swirl, then rose from into the air to hover only a few inches above the surface of the stone. A moment later, those swirling glyphs and symbols started to creep up Talia’s arm. She resisted the urge to flinch as an invasive cold enveloped her skin; that was one of the few bits of information she’d been given. Don’t move, Adriel had advised, and Talia had no intention of doing otherwise.

Still, it was uncomfortable, feeling those runes dance up her arm and spread across her chest. Before long, she was completely covered with the white symbols, but still, she didn’t move a single muscle. Not even when they sank beneath her skin and the cold turned into burning heat.

It only lasted for a few more seconds, but when those runes retreated and the vampire evaluator told her she could relax, Talia couldn’t stop herself from slumping in relief. Like that she remained until a sharp gasp jerked her attention toward the pudgy vampire woman.

“Ascender,” she breathed, her own hand touching the blue plaque in the center of the table. She looked up, asking, “You came from the Mortal Plane?”

“Yes.”

Blunt honesty seemed the best policy.

“That’s remarkable! And these readings…”

“What do they say?” Talia asked.

“That you are going to be a very valuable member of the Deathguard,” the woman stated. “I’ve never seen vital resistance like this…it’s almost as if you’re one of the living. But clearly, you’re not…”

“The circumstances of my…transformation were peculiar,” Talia provided, though she didn’t intend to get any more specific than that, so long as she could help it.

“I should say so!” the vampire exclaimed.

“May I ask what, exactly, this evaluation is for?” Talia asked. “What can you see?”

“Oh – yes, you wouldn’t know, would you?” the evaluator responded. “It really doesn’t reveal all that much. Basic information like your race, level, and class. Yours seem unique, by the by. A blessing and a curse, but you seem to be doing just fine. Those are just for identification purposes, though. The real evaluation concerns your resistance to vital energy. Most of us can barely stand the stuff until we’ve progressed to at least D-Grade race. But you’re different. You don’t seem affected by it at all!”

“What does that mean?” Talia asked.

“As I said, it means you’re going to be a very valuable member of the Deathguard,” she said. “You’ll be able to go where most can’t, and you’ll be almost entirely unaffected. You could even go beyond our borders without much issue. When I saw you were an Ascender, I assumed you would simply be a more powerful version of typical undead. But you seem unique. Or new, at the very least. Truly exciting!”

“Why would my unique class and race be a curse?” Talia asked next.

The woman narrowed her eyes, then said, “That is something your mentor will need to discuss with you, but I believe I can tell you a little. How much do you know about how skills work?”

“I…I do not know,” she said. “I just push mana through the runes and release when I want to activate.”

“Indeed. That is the most rudimentary way to use skills,” the evaluator said. “But it is also only scratching the surface of what those skills can do. Watch.”

With a simple gesture, the woman summoned a green ball of liquid that rested above the palm of her hand. Then, she tossed it toward the wall, where it sizzled but did no damage.

“That is the base version of my skill, [Acid Shot],” she said. “Even at E-Grade, it’s pretty unimpressive.”

Then, she repeated the same gesture, and a huge ball of roiling green liquid erupted into being. It was at least five times as big as the last, but that wasn’t the biggest change. Instead of the placid surface Talia had seen before, this globule of green acid spun and undulated, almost as if it were alive. When the evaluator tossed it at the wall, it sizzled and ate through the black stone, leaving a crater in its wake.

“Same skill. Same grade. I’ve just spent years pushing it to its limit,” the woman explained. “One of the fundamental things you need to understand is that skills are not static. Once you reach a certain grade, you can change them with each cast. And eventually, if you learn to control them well enough, you can upgrade them to the next grade.

“There are three pillars of strength in this world,” she went on. “First, you have your stats. That’s your raw power, but it functions more as a sliding scale. A range, if you will. Next, you have your skills. Learning to get the most out of them will put you on the higher end of that scale. Even if you can’t upgrade them, there’s a lot of improvement to be had by simply mastering what you do have. And finally, you have your path. This can allow you to exceed your potential, should you gain enough insight.”

“Interesting,” said Talia.

“Indeed! If only I had the talent to take things a little further…”

“Uh…so, what happens next?” asked Talia, uncomfortable with the expression of regret on the woman’s face.

“Right. Now, we finish up your registration, and your sponsor can take it from there,” said the evaluator.

After that, she retrieved the plaque from the center of the table, and escorted Talia from the room. Just outside, she saw a grinning Baruk. His ashen grey skin and cadaverous face made the smile a bit horrifying, but Talia chose to overlook it.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Apparently, I am special,” Talia answered, giving him a shy smile of her own. “I have a very high resistance to vital energy.”

“Unprecedentedly high!” said the pudgy vampire evaluator, thrusting her finger in the air. “Oh. Sorry. I get excited. Off I go!”

With that, the woman hurried down the hall, leaving a stunned Talia in her wake. It was then that she realized that she’d never even learned the woman’s name.

“Well, I suppose it’s time to get you started,” said a still grinning Baruk. “No more lollygagging around. No more sightseeing. It’s time we got you trained up. But one question – how’s your pain tolerance?”

“My pain tolerance? Why?”

“Oh, no reason at all,” he answered innocently. However, his widening grin sent a shiver up Talia’s spine.