Melina steps forward, her hands upraised. She pushes as hard as she can, slowing down the enormous bear with her temporal field. I’m still amazed that she figured out how to reverse the time flow of the crafting Skill and apply it to the battlefield, but I’ll have to ask her later how she does it.

The huge, slavering beast shoulders though the impediment with barely more than a grunt, sending her staggering with the sudden Skill backlash to her modified version of [In the Blink of an Eye]. She conjures a second, much smaller field in front of us, her body shaking with the strain of exertion, but Mikko catches her with one hand and holds her up before she collapses. He leans down and grabs a rock, tossing it into her mana-powered siege engine, but the rock-throwing only seems to aggravate the bear further.

“Need a bigger rock!” he hollers, but no one answers. He glares at the team. “What do we have that can stop that monster?”

After a brief moment, his angry expression fades away. He grows solemn, his face hardening into steely resolve. Mikko sets down Melina behind him, squares his shoulders, and storms forward with a war cry. His skin glints, reflective in the sunlight with the telltale Skill [Iron Skin]. Mikko’s reckless charge accelerates. He slams into the side of the flaming bear with a mighty shout as he activates [Strength of the Forge Gods], surging with power in my makeshift, home-brewed version of manasight.

Mikko rebounds with a heavy thud. He digs a groove in the dirt with his face. The bear misses a few steps, but otherwise seems barely fazed. The massive monster swings its head toward Mikko’s prone form, roaring in rage, but my brother flings himself away with a shove of his powerful arms.

Avelina balls up her hands into tight fists. She dashes past her twin sister and blasts the bear full in the face with her hottest burst of fire yet, perilously close to the range of its burning claws.

To my continued shock, I can still see the energy flows. They’re clearer than they’ve been in months, ever since I mangled my [Manasight]. She's forcing over-mana into her Skill to empower the fire beyond her normal range and temperature. What it loses in efficiency—her mana is plummeting precipitously—it makes up for in raw potency. It's a desperate act, and likely won't end well, because if we don't kill the bear right now then she’ll be out of mana and out of the fight.

“Run!” I shout, willing everyone to listen to me. We have to get out of here before it kills us all. A flurry of mana gathers around the enraged beast, rippling in patterns that I recognize all too well from my sessions with Scalpel deconstructing my [Heat Manipulation] Skill. “Incoming Skill! It's going to burn you back!”

Avelina lurches backward out of the way as the complex rune for fire surges out toward her. She turns away, her arms lifted up to protect her face. Waves of red-orange fire billow out from the bear, engulfing her in an inferno.

“Ava!” Melina screams, but I grab Melina’s shoulder before she rushes over to try to help and falls victim to the attack, too.

We stare in horror for a heart-rending moment. Then, through the shroud of smoke and fire, energy flares as the last of Avelina’s own fire-based mana fights back, overwhelming the heat and snuffing out the flames. Avelina rolls in the dirt away from the bear, slapping her hands against the smoldering embers on her cloak. The stench of burning hair permeates the air.

I sprint forward, forcing half of the mana contained within my glass pseudo cores to explode outward from my outstretched palm. The concept of sharpness infuses the burst, although I don't have time to properly build up resonance with the concept before unleashing the strongest attack I can.

The condensed blades of sharp mana quickly lose their coherence as they travel farther and farther from me, but it's enough to pierce the bear’s shoulder and finally draw blood. The impact sends it staggering back a step.

She scrambles away on her hands and knees, singed and angry looking, but otherwise all right. “Would have been nice to know it was immune before I tried to burn it!” Avelina shouts, now on her feet and staggering back toward the team.

I don't blame her for sounding upset. I wish her fire had burned hotter, too. I don't see a way out of this. The bear is blazing with fury, unharmed but even more menacing than before. It rears back, roaring, and charges my friends.

In desperation, I step forward, channeling mana from my glass cores. Relying half on memory and half on guess work, I try to crudely mimic the shield from the Crystal Badger, but the spell form fizzles as I mess up the runic matrix. My mana sputters, fizzling out, and I scream a curse in frustration. My fear at the incoming avatar of death transforms into anger.

Gritting my teeth, I stride forward and prep [Vitrification] once more, hoping against hope that I can take out this threat the same way I killed Scalpel. Maybe I can cast it down the length of my ash wood cane and into the bear, and I won't have to touch the flaming monster. I’m not sure if I can rely on the half-finished rebuild of my [Greater Heat Manipulation] to ward off the searing heat, but if I have to trade my life for the team, then so be it.

Implausible scenarios flash through my head like lightning as I try to think of a way to save us, but I discard them all. There's no way I can get us all out alive; someone will have to do the hard thing. This hunt is my fault, so it’s up to me now—I have to kill it with [Vitrification], or we all die.

Ember hurtles into view from the side of the path, her glass swords drawn. She pulses with dark, heavy mana that warps the air and makes me stumble. The force of her presence compels the bear to face her, drawing its attention away from us. Her twin translucent glass blades sing through the air, trailing faint grey-black smoke, and sever one of its smoldering claws with hardly any effort.

Her follow-up strike for the bear’s throat is deflected by a blinding surge of its own mana, but she wields the paired blades with confident grace, diving and twisting around the bear’s wild swings and weaving in her own attacks. The bear holds out for another minute, too stubborn to give up the ghost, but her violent assault ends in what feels like an inevitable conclusion: the monstrous bear’s head lying on the ground, its lips peeled back from its sharp teeth in the rictus smile of ferocious death.

“What! You soloed it? Just like that?” Lionel says, echoing the disbelief I feel at watching Ember make mincemeat of the monster. She barely seems winded by the fight.

“Took you long enough,” Avelina snaps, as she dusts herself off and climbs shakily to her feet. Her arms wrap around her torso to cover the burn marks on her stomach, where her red tunic burned through, and she hugs herself tight. A haunted look takes up residence in her eyes, which normally flash with arrogance and disdain.

“Show some respect, sister. She saved our lives,” Melina says, her voice coming out in a quiet wheeze. She shivers and moves to stand next to her twin, putting a comforting arm over her sister's shoulder. “Though the timing could have been less terrifying, I’ll admit.”

“Thought I was gonna die,” Lionel whimpers, his face haggard. He sniffs, wipes his nose with his sleeve, and lets out a shaky sigh. “Right. Who's ready to heal up?” He gathers up his mana, shuffling about to administer healing spells to each person on the team with injuries.

“Thank you, Master Ember,” Mikko croaks out. He groans and sits upright, clutching at his chest. “Can't remember the last time I got hit that hard. Feels like I just wrestled a mountain and lost.”

Ember pats him on the back. She turns to look at me. “No quip or wisecrack? Now's your chance.”

I shake my head, a dull throb of pain spiking through my temples. I'm too tired to make any jokes. Besides, I seem to be the only one who realizes just how close we all came to dying. I've been in this position too many times before. Instead of becoming accustomed to it, I’ve just grown numb.

She cracks a slight smile. “You really are growing up.”

“What was that hideous thing?” I ask quietly. “Never heard of anything like that around here.”

Ember’s smile slips. She crosses her arms and gives me a half shrug with one shoulder. “Dunno. Don’t like the smell.”

I nod. “Stinks to you, too?”

Melina shifts forward, sliding in beside me to join our conversation. “I don’t think that fiery bear is native to Silaraon,” she says. Her voice comes out slurred, like she spent all night at the tavern. Despite the seriousness of our situation, the mental image of a drunk Melina makes me smirk. I know she's not usually given to excess which means I'm not likely to see her in this state again anytime soon.

“Yeah. Looks more like a rift creature,” I admit, finally giving voice to the fear that's been gnawing at me ever since it came charging out of the cleft in the rocks. “I don’t think we’re ready to take on a Rift, not even if it’s a lesser variety. I hate to say it, but we should report this to the [General] on the chance it is not just a monster that we’ve never seen before. The Army will take care of it from there.”

Part of me hates to bring up our responsibility to report the attack. If a new Rift gives [Viceroy] Tapirs and [General] Tychicus one more possible vector to reaching the wraiths, then I’m right back in the position I want to avoid: accessory to potential genocide. Sure, the wraiths that Tem and I killed in the Labyrinth were our enemies, and I would have no compunctions at all about ending their lives once more if I had to do everything all over again. They were combatants, not civilians. I can’t shake the feeling that the same doesn’t hold true for the average wraith in their home world.

“I’ll report,” Ember offers. She squeezes my shoulder.

“Thanks. I’d rather not talk with Tychicus again. But we can’t risk an incursion this close to Silaraon.”

Ember nods curtly. She sheathes my father’s swords, which I’ve taken to nicknaming Hellfire and Brimstone, and beckons us closer. “Harvest the big crystals from the badger if you can cut them out. I’ll take care of dressing the bear’s carcass. Claws and pelt should be worth decent money.”

We get to work, not shying away from the grisly task of butchering and cleaning. I shrug off my vest and draw my knife, eyeing the badger. The point of my hunting knife pierces its thick skin after some effort, but cutting along its spine is slow going. Before I know it, I’m elbow-deep into the badger, trying to cut away the bulky crystal protruding from its back, blood spattered across my face and chest.

“There’s gotta be an easier way to do that,” Mikko says, wrinkling his nose as he watches me cut and hack away at the hide with my knife. “You ever sharpen that thing, bro? It’s so dull it offends me.”

“I miss my glass knife,” I mutter, sawing a little harder at the tough flesh. “And I’m out of mana after that fight, so I can’t use sharpness to excise the crystal. Any ideas?”

“Yeah. Let a professional take over,” Mikko says with a snicker. He slides his belt knife out of its sheath, swaggers over, and stabs it through the carcass next to where I’ve been cutting. Without the badger’s natural vitality to resist his efforts, Mikko’s sharp blade and impressive strength slice through bone and muscle alike. He severs the last of the tough, ropy ligaments and hauls up his prize: a bloody lump of crystal twice as big as his head.

I hold out my hand. “Mind if I examine it?”

“It’s your kill. I’m just along for the fun.”

“You mean, you were envious you weren’t there the last time Ember slaughtered monsters, so you were afraid of missing out.”

Mikko dumps the crystal in my lap. “Yep.”

“And?” I prompt him. “Worth almost dying?”

He hesitates, scowling. “The show was pretty awesome.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes. ”

=+=

A few hours of hard labor later, we finally finish the butchering and make the long trek back to the glassworks. I slump down on the grass, groaning as I shrug off the strap digging into my shoulder. My clothes stick to my frame, damp and crusting over from sweat and salt. I don’t have the luxury of switching sides and using my off-hand to reduce the load, so my right forearm is burning from the exertion of managing the travois. We each dragged portions of our kills back home atop our makeshift carriers. I mostly wrangled with the crystal and the badger remains—as well as the valuable parts of the bear—but it pushed me to my limit.

We’re all dirt-stained, dragging our feet, and stinking of intense body odor. I’m itchy in my most unmentionable places, and thoroughly miserable. Worst of all, we haven’t even done the hardest part of the day: Ember’s review of our performance.

“Sure that was worth it?” Avelina grumbles, stretching her neck side to side. She’s more put out than I can ever remember, with her twisted locks coming free, slick and stuck to her face, and a fierce scowl for anyone who so much as looks in her direction.

Melina joins me on the grass, holding her head in her hands. Her voice comes out far more acerbic than usual. “Yes, oh sister of mine, it was worth it. Stop bellyaching. Selling off these monster parts to the local [Apothecary] should be extremely lucrative.”

“My master might want to look at the bear. I’ll bet he could find uses for the teeth,” Mikko cuts in, bouncing on his toes. He’s the only one of us who seems fresh after the long walk back. “Maybe the bones, too? I dunno. I’ve only worked with metal. Some masters can smith with monster parts, but I need more practice.”

Must be nice to have a strength Skill. I shrug off my jealousy and take a deep breath to reset my mood. “You know any master crafters? The only ones I know are [Glass Smiths], and they aren’t from around here.”

“Ezio’s cousin will source us buyers,” Ember announces as she ghosts into the yard. She claps her hands twice, and we all struggle to our feet.

She’d disappeared from our group at some point, but I barely noticed her. I must be tired; I can reliably track most people these days, out of sheer paranoia. Only Mbukhe reliably evades my detection. I sigh, making a mental note to work on my observational skills, especially when I’m fatigued.

“Good work surviving,” Ember says. We share smiles, but she snorts and continues. “Unfortunately, it’s all downhill from there.”

We let out a collective groan, and she cracks a smile. Hands clasped behind her back, she paces back and forth while she speaks. “I threw you into the fire to see what you’re made of. I didn’t actually teach you anything, so expecting you to excel is unfair. I know that. Now that I know how you react under fire, though, I can help you shore up the problems. Remember: criticism here isn’t personal. It’s an honest assessment of your strengths and weaknesses, because I want you to keep surviving.”

I nod, but I’m having trouble not trembling as she levels her stern gaze at each one of us in turn before settling on me. Of course she’ll make an example out of me; I’m the ring-leader, the one with the most experience—and her favorite. She can’t appear to be biased if she wants us to take her seriously.

“Nuri, you need to fix your mana issues. Right now, you’re unreliable.” She holds up a hand to stop me from complaining. “No excuses. I know you need time to repair your core and channels. Regardless, you’re a liability if you can’t keep your glass cores topped off. In the meantime, you need to trust the fighting basics I taught you. Don’t rely on trying flashy new techniques in the middle of life and death combat. Even ‘novice’ enemies can cause problems if you lose focus.”

“Thank you, Master” I say, not too put out. She’s right. Honestly, she took it pretty easy on me. I’m relieved that she didn’t dig into each mistake in greater detail.

“Otherwise,” Ember continues, addressing the entire team now instead of just me, “he’s powerful and fearless. He could be a one-man wrecking crew once he’s healed. He needs a better attack vector to deliver sharpness, as I understand the delivery of concepts. And what’s that last Skill, transforming things to glass?”

“[Vitrification],” I say. At the last second, I bite my tongue and don’t tell them that it’s hand-crafted based on my research into complex runes. No one likes a braggart.

She nods, sounding out the odd word. “Good. Work on that Skill. When you rank it up, I could see some impressive applications. Beyond that, I don’t have much I can show you hands-on. You fight more like a [Mage] than a [Soldier] these days. I can only take you so far.”

I bow slightly. “Thank you, Master Ember. I’ll do whatever you say.”

She rewards me with a rare grin. “See that you do.”

Then she spins toward my brother. “Mikko! Don’t roll your eyes. You’re next—and don’t you dare groan at me. You’re brave and strong, and I admire your willingness to help out your friends. But you’re too loud, and you don’t take my instructions to heart. We wouldn’t have run into so much danger if you weren’t announcing our location to the entire world.”

He goes crimson, hanging his head at the criticism.

“Now, the good news is that everything I mentioned is fixable. We’ll work on drills to help you fix your tunnel vision when you get aggressive. Ideally, you are the team’s bulwark, not the main damage-dealer. Keep them clean so they can throw out Skills and whittle down targets from safety.”

“You got it, Master Ember,” Mikko says. He lifts his chin, his jaw clenched in conviction, and she nods back in approval. “Thanks. I’ll do my best. Promise.”

“Avelina!” Ember barks, turning toward the fiery twin.

With a start, Avelina jumps and summons a flame above her hand, ready to fight. She snuffs it out a second later, and tries to stand at attention, but her deep scowl ruins the image of the attentive cadet or [Soldier] she’s trying to project. Her cheek twitches below her right eye.

“Good news first: fire has the highest potential damage output of any Skills the team possesses. Bad news? You’re too weak to burn targets at a safe range. If you encounter another fire-aspected creature, then you’ll need a way to deal with inherent resistances.”

Avelina’s shoulders slump.

“Don’t fret. I have a few ideas in mind. We’ll also work on choosing targets and keeping your cool in the midst of battle. I know the flames call to you, but try to rein it in. Understood?”

“Thanks,” Avelina says. She nods grudgingly.

Ember returns a fractional nod, then points to the older twin. “Melina, you’re too reliant on the direct application of your Skills. Instead of the mana-intensive temporal fields, you would be better served laying traps and letting others shield you. Once you bully that poor [Researcher] Rakesh into joining the team, coordinate communication and planning with him. The two of you combined can control the flow of an entire battlefield. It’s essential you don’t get tied up in micro-fights; you’re missing the forest for the trees. Think bigger, got it? Set up the team for success.”

Melina doesn’t respond. She’s sitting down on the grass again, hunched over her notebook, busy writing down every word. The sight makes Ember rub her forehead, and then snort out a laugh.

“All right. Let’s wrap this up. Lionel, you did a good job triaging and healing, but you got in the way during the actual fight. We need to equip you with a better weapon, at minimum. More experience will help you stay back and pick your moments to assist.”

“With respect,” Lionel says, his voice even as he meets Ember’s eyes, “my job is to heal. If that takes me to the thick of things, so be it.”

“Then I suggest you find some armor,” Ember snaps. “Bravery is admirable, but it’s a thin line before you cross over into foolishness. If you die, the rest of the team follows. Saving yourself is saving them.”

“Yes, Master,” Lionel says, managing to look somewhat abashed. I can’t wait to finish my glass armor project from last year. I’ll make sure he’s well-protected in a fight. Keep Lio alive, and he can keep the rest of us alive.

She breathes in deeply, then unexpectedly smiles. “Overall, a good first run. I’m pleased with your grit.”

We swell with pride. It might not sound like much, but it’s high praise coming from Ember. She believes in us. I know it. My fist clenches tight at the thought. We won’t let her down.

Ember wipes her brow. “Now. I’ve got paperwork to catch up on. Scram, kids.”

We chuckle and wave goodbye as she jogs to the glassworks. The mood is subdued after our debrief, but everyone seems determined to improve. Time for me to add some fuel to the fire.

“Before you all go home, gather round,” I call out. My friends turn back to me. Lionel shoots a questioning look my way, and Avelina’s scowl is reaching epic proportions, but I just motion them all over. This is gonna be fun. “I have some mana-Skill pointers to go over with you.”

Mikko groans. “Who made you the teacher, brother?”

“Shush. I’m not talking to you, little brother.” I laugh when he rolls his eyes at my teasing. “Now, listen up. Ava, the way the bear used flames could be instructive. Watching him gave me insight into the complex runes behind fire. It will take some time, but I think we can improve the heat and coherence of your [Flame Jet]. You’re going to be a force to reckon with by the time we’re done.”

She brightens a bit at that, but still regards me suspiciously. “I’m not used to you talking like that. It’s weird.” She laughs and claps my shoulder. “Keep it up!”

I scowl right back at her. “Uh, thanks. I think. But I can’t believe you’ve all forgotten the best part of hunting.”

I’m disappointed when blank stares meet my announcement. I smack my forehead. “C’mon! The loot. It’s time for our hard-won gains.”

“We already know about that. But we won’t have any money until the sales go through,” Melina starts to explain to me patiently, but I shake my head, and she breaks off in confusion.

“Not talking about selling off the monster parts. What did I bring back with us? Any guesses why finding a Crystal Badger was so important to Ember?”

Lionel’s eyes widen. “You’re making us gear with the badger’s shield Skill?”

“I can always count on you, Lio,” I say with a huge grin. “Did the rest of you seriously forget that I’ve become a recognized master?”

Cheers break out, and Mikko and Lionel bump fists. Melina simply regards me in slack-jawed silence. It’s fun to see her speechless for once.

Avelina hugs me. “Thank you, Nuri. We owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” I insist. “We take care of each other. That’s what friends do, remember? Now, help me drag this bloody crystal inside. It’s time to make armor for you all, my fragile friends. I can’t have you dying on me.”

“Hey! I’m not fragile,” Mikko says, flexing.

“Fine. Armor for everyone except Mikko,” I amend with a laugh, handing him the strap to the travois with the crystal on it. “His hard head can protect him better than I ever could, anyway.”

Mikko just flexes his admittedly-impressive muscles again, posing while Ava pretends to fan herself in awe. “Got that right, bro!”

The team dissolves into laughter, and the tension and exhaustion from the day’s hard work melts away as we walk into the glass studio. My brother laughs loudest of all, always a good sport when I tease him, and I resolve to make him the most resplendent armor in the world. He’s loud, goofy, and brash, but I’ll always love him.

I smile softly at my friends. I couldn’t ask for a better team. I’ll do anything to keep them alive. Anything.